#Kind of personal. His face is modeled off my current father’s face…

[medicalunprofessional]

i Wasn’t a monster.

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming - Prolouge

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge in of itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 1090

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, no knowledge of how football works? First person. Minimal y/n use. Based on an OC fic I'm currently posting on AO3 so

A/N: Am I joining tumblr again to write Jamie Tartt fanfiction? Now that's an interesing question. Hope you enjoy.

I didn’t know quite what to expect when I started at Richmond. I was coming on as the first female assistant coach in the league. Something of a prodigy myself, I graduated from university early after leading our women’s football team to the championship three times. I worked as a kitman (or kit woman) for some teams in the Championship league until I saw the opening at Richmond and decided to throw my hat in the ring. Never in a million years did I actually think I would get an interview, much less a job offer.

But somehow, I ended up walking up the stairs to Rebecca Welton’s office, bright and early for my first day. I stood outside the closed door and too a breath, centering myself, before reaching for the handle. To my surprise, the door opened before I could touch it. The door opened to reveal Ted Lasso, the head manager of Richmond.

            “Oh! Hello there!” He greeted with an inviting smile.

            “Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry, I’m here to see- “

            “Rebecca Welton,” the woman emerged from behind Ted, bearing her own polite smile. “And you must be (Y/N), our new Assistant Coach.”

I gave her my own polite smile and reached out to shake her hand. “That’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Welton.”

            “Well! What a surprise, it’s great to meet my new partner in crime, I’m Ted Lasso, nice to meet you.” He took my outstretched hand in a firm handshake.

I had read up on Ted Lasso. The American Football coach who was flying in all the way from Kansas to teach football in the Premiere League. Yet somehow, all that research could not have prepared me for what I was meeting.

            “Coach Lasso! Yes, it’s great to meet you. I look forward to working with you.” I maintained my level of professionalism, but he waved me off.

            “Please, call me Ted. My father was Coach Lasso,” he told me.

            “Was he really?” I asked, surprised.

            “No, but that would have been a great coincidence if he was,” he joked, with a smile.

I stared at him, not quite sure how to respond.

            “We were just heading on a tour,” Rebecca broke the silence, “would you like to join us?”

And that was how I ended up on a tour of the facility with Ted and Rebecca. She took us through the halls of history of the club, passing the faces of the team. Including, one, Jamie Tartt. Jamie Tartt was all the football industry could talk about of late. The young star who couldn’t seem to miss, and who stole the hearts of all those who watched him. Yeah, he was fit. And as much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but let him steal mine as well.

I wanted to hate him. I really did. He was everything I was. Young, talented, eager. But because he was a man, he was able to get fame and fortune because of it. That kind of thing just didn’t happen for women. The women’s league didn’t get nearly the same notoriety as the men’s did and even if I scored twice as many goals as Jamie Tartt, I would never leave the same legacy he did.

So yeah, I wanted to hate him just because he was famous. But I couldn’t. Something about his stupid cocky smirk, and the way he seemed to understand the balls every move before he could even touch the ball. It was impressive. Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed to me that he was dating Keely Jones. A gorgeous model, just like all the other women he’d been seen with. He wouldn’t look twice at me. You were staring at his face for so long you didn’t realize that Ted and Rebecca were staring at you, expectantly.

“Oh, sorry, what?”

Ted’s eyes danced quickly between Jamie’s photo and you. But if he suspected anything, he didn’t dare to comment as he brought you back into the conversation.

            “Do you believe in ghosts?”

The rest of the day went by rather quickly. After the tour, Rebecca led you and Ted to a disastrous press conference that ended early, much to my own gratitude. I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to press yet. I wasn’t ready to be a poster woman for my gender across the league. I just wanted to coach football. But luckily, after the press conference we were allowed to go watch practice.

That was what I was excited for. To watch the lads, play football. I had watched football for as long as I could remember. I grew up in Richmond. My family could never afford to go to games, but we watched every single match, good or bad. Now here I was, going to coach the team that I grew up loving. It was almost unreal.

            “So! Where are you from?” Ted asked as we made our way to the pitch.

            “I actually grew up here,” I told him with a smile. “I’ve been a greyhound’s fan since I was a girl. My dad loved the game.”

            “Well, I’ll be!” Ted exclaimed. “He must be mighty proud of you then.”

“Yeah, he was!” I responded, my smile fading slightly.

We made it onto the pitch just as the boys were scrimmaging. My eyes were immediately drawn to the legendary, Roy Kent. He was a legend for sure, and the way he commanded the field certainly lived up to said legend. But eventually my eyes landed on Jamie Tartt just as he was doing a trick shot to hit the ball off the top of the goal. God, he was amazing.

As Ted and Coach Beard headed back inside, I decided to greet the boys as they came back inside. As Jamie approached, I stepped forward, wanting to introduce myself. He was good, very good, but I knew that he could be even better. With a bit of teamwork, I was certain that he could become the best in the league.

            “Hi, Jamie. I’m (Y/N) and I just wanted to say that-"

He brushed right past me, shoving his water bottle into my hands.

            “Thanks,” he dismissed, not even turning around.

I stood there, water bottle in my hands, mouth agape. Maybe hating him would be easier than I thought.

[pupphe-additions]

✬Evie's Idol Profile✬

✬Basics✬

Group: Stray Kids Stage Name: Evie English Name: Evelyn Kim Korean Name: Kim Nari (김나리) Nicknames: Eve, Lyn, Evie, Evs, Nani, Bear, Bug, Nini, Lovey, Vi and Ari Position: Dancer, Rapper, and Vocalist Birthday: July 6th, 1998 Zodiacs: Cancer/Tiger Birth Place: Sydney, Australia Ethnicity: Korean Nationality: Australian Languages:

English (native/fluent) Korean (fluent) Auslan (fluent) Auslan is Australian Sign Language Spanish (fluent) Japanese (learning/conversational)

Family: Grandma (Deceased), Grandfather (Deceased), Mother, Father, Older Brother, Younger Sister, a niece, and a nephew Instagram: skz.eve98

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Physical✬

Height: 152.4cm (5’0) Weight: 44.9kg (99 lbs) Blood Type: A Body Modifications: belly button piercing, triple helix (left ear), lobe and upper lobe (both ears) | two tattoos Face Claim: Soyeon (G)I-DLE Dance Model:  1M Dance Studio Yoojung Lee [x] [x] [x] Rap and Vocal Model: Dreamcatcher Dami [x] [x]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Personality✬

MBTI: INTP Positive Traits: Caring, open minded, loving, logical, empathic, intuitive, protective, and ambitious Negative Traits: Extreme stubbornness, perfectionist, jealous, can be rather moody and impatient Strengths: Open mindedness, curious, creative, talented, and passionate Weaknesses: Impatient, perfectionist, disconnected often, standoffish, low self esteem and self worth, and overthinks everything 3 Words She Would Use to Describe Herself: Hard working, loving, and open minded 3 Words STAY Would Use to Describe Her: Brave, caring, and understanding 3 Words Stray Kids Would Use to Describe Her: Rebellious, kind, and crazy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Statics✬

Visual: ★★★★★★★★☆☆ (8.5/10) Vocals: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (5.5/10) Rap: ★★★★★★★★★☆ (9/10) Dance:  ★★★★★★★★★★ (10/10) Choreographing: ★★★★★★★★★★ (10/10) Stage Presence: ★★★★★★★★★★ (10/10) Acting: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ (4/10) Producing/Song Writing: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (6/10) Public Speaking: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ (5.5/10) Other Variety: ★★★★★★★★☆☆ (8/10) Total: 76.5/100 Special Stat (Flexibility): ★★★★★★★★★★ (10/10) Special Stat (Video Gaming): ★★★★★★★★★★ (10/10)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Career Information✬

Stage Name: Evie Agency(s): SM Entertainment (former trainee) JYP Entertainment (current) Training Period: 2010-2019  (almost 9 years) Group: Stray Kids Debut Date: 01-24-2019 Position(s): Dancer, Rapper, and Vocalist Individual Fandom: Lily Pads Representative Emoji/Animal: Koala 🐨 Unit: Dance Racha

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Romance, Simplified✬

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Ideal Type: “Someone understanding and someone I can connect with. Someone who will love and care for me, but also someone who will call me out on my bullshit. I think that would be my ideal type.” Commenter: What about gender? Do you have a preference? Evie: As long as they love me that’s all that matters no? Gender doesn’t stop love! 

Relationship Status: Single

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

✬Trivia✬

Evie has two dogs named Aurora and Luna and a macaw named Comet.

Evie's sister is named Chloe (2001) and a brother named Hudson (1996)

Evie was originally on the show with the other members of Stray Kids but she got eliminated very early on and didn’t get a second chance as JYP didn’t think she was ready enough at the time. Evie mentioned on vLive how that made her feel like she would never be good enough to debut.

She has a serious case of RBF.

She enjoys being alone after a long day.

She is a masters overwatch 2 support player, she is also in diamond as DPS, and plat as tank.

She really enjoys playing games competitively.

She is very close with her older brother and his kids and calls him everyday for at least an hour.

She can come off as cold and intimidating when you first meet but she's actually just a massive softy.

She is allergic to shellfish and also has seasonal allergies.

She likes to assign people in her life with colors.

She has a group of idol friends that she talks to regularly and she doesn’t like making new friends unless she is with the other members of SKZ.

[karlrose]

Why I still obsess over hyperfixations gone by...

I still love Xena The Warrior Princess and still watch the DVDs from time to time because all of the good memories I have with my mother involve watching Xena together. Xena and The Facts of Life. (My mother was incredibly physically and emotionally abusive to me so I cherish the times when she was kind)

I still love Danny Phantom because it premiered on Nickelodeon the same day my nephew was born. It's also the first show I wrote fanfic for. I related to Danny a lot and liked that he wasn't a perfect role model. He was a normal kid with anger issues and could be vindictive at times, but tried to keep good in him. (I broke my foot tripping on a pair of boots my father had told me to pick up several times before while running to watch Fanning the Flames. That was when I learned that Dad tells me to do things for my own good, not because he just didn't like the mess)

I still play Kingdom Hearts all the time because I met my husband through our shared interest in it. When we got married, we had to decide who's copy of which game we were keeping and which we were giving away to others. His first birthday after our marriage, I bought him his own keyblade and I loved seeing his face light up and how he excitedly swung it around like a child on christmas. I've gotten him something Kingdom Hearts themed every birthday ever since. (The happiest he's ever been with any of my gifts is the christmas I got him new undershirts, underwear, and socks though. He cried. I thought he'd be disappointed that I got him something so practical, but I've never seen anyone so happy from something so simple)

I still love Team Rocket because my siblings and I would bond over Pokemon. We traded cards, we played the games together, we watched the movies over and over.

I still love Super Metroid because it was the first game I ever finished. I was 4 years old the first time I got to the ending. I fell in absolute love with the metroid and had such an emotional response to the experience. I still think Super Metroid is one of the best games ever made.

I still love Sailor Moon because I've been watching Sailor Moon since I was 3. So much of my life is wrapped up in it. A lot of the lessons I still carry to this day and try to impart on my kids, I learned from Sailor Moon. If a friend is in trouble, it's more important to help your friend than to keep a secret. Friends aren't just people you hang out with or talk to, friends are people you look out for and who look out for you. If you don't have the other person's best interests in mind, you're not friends. My entire blueprint on how to treat people comes from watching Sailor Moon. I have a moon sceptre, a collection of lockets, and I still have the Sailor Moon plush I got for christmas as a child. Her pigtails are missing and her head is crocked (her head got ripped off in a sibling fight and my friend who had just learned how to sew from her grandma sewed her head back on for me making the plushie itself a symbol of friendship.)

My current obsession, Miraculous Ladybug, I love because I see myself in Marinette. She has anxiety, I have anxiety. I see the relationship between my husband and I in Marinette and Adrien. They're both oblivious dorks and so are we. But the biggest reason I love Miraculous is because I feel the way I felt the first time I watched Sailor Moon.

[circusclownsam]

Avatar: the way of water OC

•

○

“I see you”

○

•

general

Name :: Min-Ya Choi

Nickname :: Minnie, prefers that nickname

Age :: 18

Race :: Na’vi

Birthdate :: 3 / 9 / 2155

Birthplace :: She was born in a lab via her mothers avatar (similar to Kiri)

Languages spoken: Na’vi, English and Korean (taught by her mother)

Voice :: mid pitch, noticeable australian accent

•

○

“I’m not sure where my loyalty lies”

○

•

clans

Former Clan :: Omatikaya

Current clan :: Metkayina

Position in clan :: villager (current), training to be a hunter (former, undecided for new clan)

•

○

“Wow, you’re sooo kind”

○

•

personality

Personality :: often described as cold, secluded and untrusting of others, tends to keep to herself most of the time; especially when it comes to her personal life- not wanting others to know how horrid her parents were in the lab, despite also having a sarcastic attitude; Minnie is quite gentle and kind behind closed doors, volunteering to help others with hunts or helping her adoptive grandmother take care of the villagers. When upset, she’d often ‘shut down’ and not answer anyone, if annoyed- she’ll curse in English before going off to vent to Kiri or Rotxo. when truly comfortable with someone, she’ll open up more about what she had experienced in the lab at the hands of her parents.

Likes :: being left alone, when others do not pry into her personal life, hanging out with Kiri, swimming with Rotxo, annoying Neteyam and Lo’ak, walking around in the forest with spider, learning about humans and where they come from, studying the Flora and Fauna around her, weaving nets for the Omatikaya, styling her hair and making clothes for herself and others, singing ‘human’ music to tuk (mostly lullabies), napping with her ikran

Dislikes :: when her more “human” features are pointed out, being picked on by Ao’nung and his friends, getting into arguments with Neytiri and Jake, not being allowed out after dark, having to stay behind to help aid others, not being allowed to explore by herself when wanted, Quaritch and his team, when her parents are brought up.

Fears :: Quaritch and his team, being left behind and forgotten, her parents coming back from earth.

•

○

“My parents are..human”

○

•

relations

Mother :: Lin Choi, 38, Human / Avatar, currently alive on earth, scientist

Father :: Robert Choi, 39, Human, currently alive on earth, scientist

Guardian :: an elder women named bobo, 50, Na’vi, currently alive on pandora, healer

Friends[s] :: Kiri, Tuk, Tsireya, Rotxo, Neteyam, Lo’ak, Spider

Closer to :: Tuk, Lo’ak, Kiri and Rotxo

Enemies[s] :: Quaritch and his team

Role model(s) :: Neytiri, Jake

Pet :: an ikran named mars, an ilu named neptune

•

○

“What’s wrong with how I look?”

○

•

physical appearance

Face Claim :: https://pin.it/23nAoe64Y

Body shape :: hourglass, small waist, average thickness, d cup

Eye colour :: dark blue

Skin colour :: a nice, light blue

Hair colour :: chocolate brown

Hair length :: hip length

Hair texture :: 2C

Height :: 7’2 (same height as Tsireya)

Weight :: N/A

scarring :: centred on her arms, inner thighs and chest. doesn’t care enough to hide them, tho doesn’t dwell on how she got them.

Other details :: Minnie has five(?) fingers and five toes, dark brown eyebrows, freckled cheeks and nose, dimpled smile, her queue rests at the base of her skull rather than the top (similar to avatars), normal na’vi tail. Her feline-like ears rest on the sides of her head rather than the top.

Outfit ;; while not ‘traditionally’ na’vi, she finds it most comfortable

necklace 1 :: https://pin.it/57HRZY9fZ

necklace 2 :: https://pin.it/7bsqeHnPJ

top :: https://pin.it/1CJQlSmNa

bottoms :: https://pin.it/6EksddS3P

left bicep accessory :: https://pin.it/3DSUNZEuW

right bicep accessory :: https://pin.it/7CKW6ttX7

nails :: https://pin.it/7FaGS7PKe

hairstyle :: https://pin.it/Ug61nK4GG

•

○

“My life is interesting”

○

•

backstory / timeline

born in the year 2155, to robert and lin choi, minnie was conceived and raised in a secret lab hidden deep within the forests of pandora.

after enduring years of physical and verbal abuse, her parents left pandora shortly before her 15th birthday. met the sully’s when she was 16.

has grown close to the family over the three years she’s known them, was adopted by an elder na’vi named bobo to help her settle into the clan better.

began training to be a hunter just after her 17th birthday.

(will add more, if i feel like it)

[graphictees102]

Infants Deserve Custom T-Shirts and Apparel Too!

Here is a conspicuous assertion: guardians love their youngsters. Ask any parent and they will let you know their kid is one of a kind, unique, wonderful, astounding, etc. A mother's face illuminates at the opportunity to brag about her child, and nothing makes a dad more joyful than sharing his youngster's accomplishments. An extraordinary way for guardians to show their pride is to make custom clothing for their babies, little children and small kids. No one realizes their child as they do, so rather than purchasing one more plain one-piece from the retail chain, why not make a custom outfit that shows off infants' distinction.

Utilizing an internet based custom shirt printing organization, guardians, grandparents, companions and even kin can customize bodysuits, hoodies, shirts, napkins, covers and the sky is the limit from there. Many destinations currently include embellishments like sparkle or running to improve individual plans. When a custom shirt or frill has been requested, it tends to be additionally tweaked at home utilizing weaving string, sequins, and various additional items effortlessly found in create stores. The following are a couple of good thoughts I've assembled for tweaking child garments.

FOR THE PROUD PARENTS

Guardians trust their kids will mirror their most desirable characteristics, characteristics why not feature child's elements with a clever shirt or another chin-wiper? In the event that the child is a carbon copy of their daddy, why not make a charming shirt that expresses "similar in many ways to the old man" in a tomfoolery, blocky text style. Make it a stride further by requesting father a shirt that basically says "old block" - this thought makes an incredible present for fathers day or Christmas. One more of my top choices is "charming like mama, slobbers like daddy" which would be wonderful on a tucker or a cover. Pleased guardians likewise appreciate making shirts that show the amount they love their child; making a custom "mother's number one young lady" or a "daddy's little monkey" shirt is so natural."" First time guardians can likewise play around with shirts like "my mother is insane and she has me to thank" or "I made daddy uncovered like me."

FOR THE BABY WITH THE BIG PERSONALITY

Back to one of my unique places: each kid is special! Whether a child is smiley and cheerful, a squirm worm, creeping before his companions, snatching everything in sight, continually eating, or and so on - custom shirts can assist them with communicating their character before they gain proficiency with the words to communicate it themselves. With such countless tones and styles of attire accessible, making custom items for babies and little children can be fun and flexible. Click over here Graphic tees

An ideal model is placing child in a shirt that has an image of a jug and says "I drink until I drop." If planning for a charming child kid, perhaps a shirt that says "chicks dig my rotund thighs" or "lock up your girls" would fit. Another disappointing, yet amusing thing infants do is shed their garments. In the event that this conduct sounds natural, perhaps an "I'd prefer be bare" shirt would get a grin from other grasping guardians. Assuming that you end up continually entertained by the things your child does, follow the parody world and make a sweeping or shirt with a receiver that says "thank you, I'm here throughout the evening!"

FOR THOSE SPECIAL OCCASIONS

One of the most straightforward ways of altering child shirts is by recollecting all of infants' "firsts" - first Christmas, first birthday celebration, and so forth. A coordinated parent can make custom clothing as little as seven days ahead of time and have it prepared for the event. Not exclusively will it be a good time for the child to have now, it will likewise make a fabulous remembrance. At the point when it's the ideal opportunity for child to go through their most memorable night from home, many guardians will ask grandparents to look after children. This is a major move toward nurturing and a distinction for grandparents, so why not celebrate the event with a custom shirt. A shirt that says "most loved excellent child" or "grandmother's darling" would be a sweet shock and an extraordinary method for showing your appreciation.

One more earth shattering event for guardians and small kids is the expansion of another child. An incredible method for astounding relatives is by making a shirt for your kid that says "I will be an elder sibling/sibling." This will cause your more seasoned youngster to feel exceptional and assist with getting them amped up for having a kin. At the point when you are prepared to make your pregnancy declaration, have your kid wear the shirt for a tomfoolery and remarkable uncover.

I trust these thoughts will start inventiveness and act as a leaping off point for custom clothing plans. Children and small kids are such a lot of tomfoolery, and making custom shirts to dress them up in can be an extraordinary method for showing the amount you appreciate having them in your day to day existence! Cheerful making!

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[burnedbyshoto]

bakugou leaving reader for the unknown, for his dream, because where they were wasn’t good enough, it was a hindrance on his future. it wasn’t so much that he hated his hometown, the people, or even you — he loved you, after all — but he just could never keep himself tied down to the place he was trying to outgrow.

he leaves for university, in the big city, a campus that is known for making the best, creating trailblazers in every field imaginable, and when he leaves at the age of eighteen, he doesn’t come back. all he remembers is the shocked look on your face and the helpless tears streaming down your face when he broke up with you.

it’s been twelve years, and he’s thirty now. he changed his number when he got to the new city, only keeping touch with his parents out of obligation than anything else. it’s short phone calls, three minute conversations of mitsuki scolding him for not calling enough, for never visiting, masaru trying to gently express their concerns for their only son, and of course, bakugou saying he needs to leave.

his parents are strangers to him, practically, and whenever they try to speak of his past life, the one he exchanged away for the current CEO position he’s found himself in, he hangs up. he doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want the bitter pit in his stomach when they even begin to speak your name.

but they haven’t mentioned you in years.

but the thing about katsuki is, unfortunately, his attitude.

thirty years old and a prominent CEO of a company no older than four years old and yet already a billionaire? practically unheard of. sure, people, normal people, praise him for it, but the board? men who used to people like katsuki don’t praise him.

they hate his harsh attitude, his ridiculous will power, and necessity to do everything, and somehow… katsuki gets put on a leave of absence for a minimum of a year.

at first, it’s fine. bakugou spends the newfound free time traveling, seeing the world, doing things he never was able to because he was building his empire. but three months of nothing leads him to grow restless, bored, and the worst feeling in the world crawls into the pit of his stomach and he realizes in month number five what it is.

for the first time in his life, bakugou katsuki is: homesick.

so he goes home, trading the concrete jungle and modern technology for dirt roads and rusting machines. it’s just for a moment, he says as he sees the life he left behind ages ago.

it’s much slower in his hometown, people much more open and conversing with one another instead of cellphones like he’s grown used to. he isn’t quite ready to knock on his mother’s front door so he goes to the general store and walks straight to where he just knows his past time favorite snacks are.

to his total surprise (notice the sarcasm?) it’s right where he remembered it was through the cobwebs of his memory. there’s one bag of spicy corn chips left and as he reached for it, another hand goes for it too.

he freezes for a bit, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at the person who’s hand is connected to the bag of chips he wants.

but he stops breathing for just a moment.

it’s a young girl, most definitely no older than twelve, with your face. it’s exactly the same. but unlike you, the girl had ash blonde hair and deep red eyes.

the girl blinks eyes looking taken back and slightly lost, as does bakugou, and then as if finally caught up on the situation of things, she scowls.

“hands off the chips, old man! I got here first!”

the magic is gone and bakugou feels his eye twitch as he reels backward.

“what the hell did you just say to—?!”

“I said hands off! arent you too old to be eating chips anyways?! you’re practically a million years old, eat the lame corn nuts or something,” she scoffs rolling her eyes as she tucks the bag of chips under her arm.

“aren’t you some shitty little brat!” bakugou hisses, his hand twitching with irritation. “don’t you know to respect your fucking elders.”

“ain’t nothing to respect from what I can tell!”

“aiko, hurry up,” a voice bemoans from behind the aisle and bakugou feels his chest constrict in the weirdest, most heart aching way as you walk around the corner with an armful of party supplies. “we have to get to your grand—”

bakugou stares at you, and you at him. the tension and silence so thick and heavy on the both of your shoulders and tongues.

in the twelve years he’s been away, bakugou has had other relationships. most of them due mostly to friends insistence, and others mostly just because he wanted a warm body nearby. but no one could ever match what you meant to him, not that he could have realized that because he could never think back to you. you were his past, not his present, not his future.

and bakugou was suddenly feeling a lot of things, thinking a lot of things as he looked between you and well… aiko.

“y/n,” bakugou’s voice is hollow, almost unbelievable. “i-is she — are we—?”

“this is my daughter, y/l/n aiko,” you say, steely calm and dangerous. the warm smile you were wearing moments ago clean off your face and your eyes were like glass — shiny, unemotional. “she was born after you left, so you never got a chance to meet her, did you?”

“y/n—“

“y/l/n!” you snap, face still void of emotions. “you don’t have that right anymore.”

bakugou stiffens for a moment, but he knows that you’re right. “y/l/n,” he tries again, your last name a word he’s never had to use in his entire life to address you. “how old is she?”

“mama,” aiko whispers, eyes glaring at bakugou as she stand protectively in front of you, fingers digging into your blouse. “I wanna go now.”

your eyes drop from bakugou, and he watches as a strained but kind smile is expressed to aiko as you press a kiss to her forehead. “okay, go pay for these things for me, will ya? tell tayo-sama we’ll pay him back tomorrow. i’m going to finish this conversation with… with my old classmate.”

aiko looks between you and bakugou, eyebrows furrowed with unsaid questions but she nods, grabbing the things from your arms and going to the cash register. bakugou keeps his gaze on the young girl until your fingers dig into his bicep and your pulling him into a corner that he had definitely made out with you in ages, lifetimes ago.

“what are you doing here?!” you hiss in a near terrible whisper, face frazzled and overwhelmed. “you’ve never been back home! what’s different?!”

“is she mine?!”

“no!” you shriek, fist hitting his chest. “she’s not yours! she’s mine! she’s not some claimable object you get to collect years later!”

bakugou stiffens but also feels like he melts with guilt under those words… youre right. he has no claim to her. all he did was give her life but it was a life where he was probably nothing more than an empty space in. but he looks at you, millions of emotions swimming through your watery eyes, and the snarl on your lips as you stand before him as if you could do anything.

“i’m… i’m sorry, you’re right,” bakugou says, lips pressing into a thin line.

“you shouldn’t have come back,” you laugh miserably, fingers massaging your temples. your tone is weak, defeated, as if for the first time in your life you felt the bottom of the pit. “why did you come back home?”

“mama!!!! let’s go already!!!” aiko whines by the entrance and you tremble in front of him before shaking your head.

“coming!” you call back to her.

bakugou steals another look at what is his daughter. a girl he never knew existed.

“do me a favor, bakugou,” you say passing him with small but domineering steps. “don’t do anything to make her suspect youre her father.”

it took a few hours, probably more, maybe less, but bakugou finally finds himself at his childhood home. he’s heart feeling like it was being swallowed as the front door opened and he saw his older mother and father standing at the entrance. bakugou couldn’t understand what they were saying as they welcomed him in, he could only notice how their home looked exactly the same… well except that the walls that were decorated with photos of him and only him were also covered with pictures of aiko.

“did you know?” bakugou asks before he can even say hello.

mitsuki stopped mid rant, her face moving from irritated mother to exasperated but pitiful silence.

“since she found out.”

“why didn’t you… why didn’t I know?”

“she tried telling you, called you multiple times only to be blocked,” masaru gently explains. “you always shut us down when we so much as mentioned her.”

“she even flew out there at one point but caught you making out with some dumb model too.” mitsuki inserts with a huff. “we tried, brat. you just…”

bakugou is silent, his heartbeat roaring in his ears at the thought of his initial monstrous attempt of deleting his past life. mitsuki sighs, sad and sullen.

“there was no point in telling you when you won’t listen.”

or the story of a one sided bitter ex as bakugou and reader are challenged at creating some semblance of a relationship because aiko pieces it together the moment they looked at each other. including a lot of angst, a six month time limit to rekindle a once in a lifetime love story because choosing between family and work is damn hard.

[moodymelanist]

I beg I beg I beg for part 2 of Nessian pregnancy🧎‍♀️ never seen or read anything more adorable

hell yeah I can do this, nonnie. I had so much fun writing the first part that who am I to say no to a second 🧎🏽‍♀️

also as a general PSA: please note I am not currently accepting drabble/prompt requests! i have a whole bunch to get through and I have zero problem deleting even the cutest requests if people can’t respect that. thank you!

now onto the story 😌

Nesta had discovered that one of the worst symptoms of her third trimester was how often she had to go use the bathroom. Especially in combination with how often the baby would sit on her bladder, she seemed to spend more time on the toilet these days than off it.

Her poor husband never complained about her new bathroom habits once, not even when she’d wake him up from getting in and out of the bed so much. They’d even switched sides so she didn’t have to walk so far, something that made her love him even more than she already did — he was selfless and compassionate and just kind.

After her latest midnight trip to the bathroom, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was practically ready to pop with how rounded her stomach was, but there was a rather large part of her that was absolutely terrified that she wouldn’t be a good mom.

She hadn’t said anything to Cassian about it; he was so good with kids that to think he’d be anything but an amazing dad would be ludicrous. But her? She didn’t know the slightest about how to make a kid happy, and she didn’t exactly have the best role models. Her mother had only paid attention to her daughters when it benefitted her, and her father wasn’t exactly winning any number one dad awards anytime soon.

Nesta didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a warm hand rubbing her back. She turned to see her husband standing in the doorframe, his hazel eyes wide with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her softly. She let him pull her into as close of a hug as she could manage with her stomach.

“I…” she began. Even after all this time she had to battle the urge to not say anything, even though she knew good and well he would never judge her. “I can’t help but worry that I won’t be a good mom.”

“Why?” he responded, sounding genuinely confused. That was another thing she appreciated about him — he would never tell her she was wrong for feeling the way she did, even if they both knew she was being ridiculous and irrational.

“I have no idea what being a good mom looks like,” she said. She sniffled and he reached out to wipe her tears away. “I’m so scared that I’ll end up just like my mother and ruin our baby.”

“You won’t ruin our baby, sweetheart,” Cassian said immediately. “There’s no universe where that’s even a possibility.”

“But you don’t know that,” Nesta said.

He gently started guiding her back to their bed as he responded. “I do know that, though. Your mom may have been shitty, but at the bare minimum that taught you what not to do, right?”

“I guess,” she replied warily. He helped her sit down on the bed before walking around to the other side and sitting down to face her. “But just because I know what not to do doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at this.”

“I know you’ll be a good mom because you’re an amazing person, Nes,” he said, reaching out to cup her face. “You have so much love to give that it’s impossible for you to fuck this up. Will we be perfect parents? Probably not, but that’s okay, because we have each other.”

Nesta was fighting tears again, but this time they were because of how much she loved her husband. He always knew exactly what to say to her to reassure her.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve worried about this too,” he added. “You’re so good at all this parenting class stuff and I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” she said, turning her face to press a kiss to his hand on her cheek. She couldn’t believe he was worrying about this when he was…. well, him. “I really can’t believe you’ve worried about this.”

“Why?” he asked, amused.

“You’re just so warm and fuzzy. Babies love warm and fuzzy.”

“Babies also love having fresh diapers and being swaddled, but I’m nowhere near as good as you at that stuff.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh softly as she came to the same conclusion he’d offered her earlier. They might struggle — no, they’d definitely struggle — but everything would work out in the end because they were a team.

“I can teach you how to swaddle better tomorrow,” she promised. “But even if you can’t figure it out, you have so much love to give, too. I think our daughter will care much more about that in the long run.”

Cassian nodded, and she couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little teary-eyed. She leaned forward as best as she could to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Besides,” Nesta said, smiling, “If we could survive ten years of each other, I think a baby will be a piece of cake.”

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Two

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone who has read part 1 and has sent back such kind feedback. It really means a lot! 

Part 1

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, angsty as hell 

Just open the fucking door.

You hesitated as your right hand hovered over the familiar front door. Over the last five years you’ve always just walked in. This home was like your home. But now, he wasn’t just his.  

“Just walk in. It’s not rocket science.” You muttered to yourself. Sighing you tapped your fist against the wood. 

Your body relaxed a smile fell on your face as you heard Dodger’s familiar bark ring through the house as he approached the door. 

“Alright, bubba. Relax.” The butterflies flurried in your stomach as Chris’s voice carried past the door. You gave a small smile as the door flung open to reveal a shirtless Chris. “Why did you knock, you meatball.” 

You just shrugged and quickly gave him a hug. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” You asked as you both made your way to the kitchen, his arm slung loosely over your shoulder. 

“I was supposed to go watch the game with Scott but he wasn’t feeling too hot, so I’m actually just going to stay in. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of your girls night.” He laughed, ruffling your hair as you turned the corner and caught view of Carissa. 

“Yeah no boys allowed. Right, Y/N?” Carissa dried off her hands and rushed over to you, pulling you into a full body hug. You bit back the frustration when you realized that she was wearing the shirt that you always wore whenever you would spend the night at Chris’s, the familiar fabric like sandpaper under your fingertips now as you gently hugged her back. 

“Yeah. No boys.” You said meekly as you took another good look at her. The shirt looked way better on her than it ever did on you. It fell just below her hips, the way it did on you but she somehow made it look so stylish. She just had on a pair of workout leggings underneath and fluffy socks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail and you noticed how she managed to not look like a founding father with her hair pulled back. 

Subconsciously you twisted the bottom of your oversized college crewneck in your fingers. You were practically wearing the same thing as her but you felt like a middle school girl in gym class while she just screamed model off duty. 

Add that to the reasons he noticed her and not me. 

You needed to stop comparing yourself to her. But it was hard when the stark contrasts were so evident. 

“So,” Carissa clapped her hands together. “Chris told me about your love for tequila so I made some of my famous spicy margaritas! And I just put on some popcorn and I may have gone a little overboard at Ulta today.” 

You followed her gaze and it landed on an array of face masks and nail polish. 

“Sounds like my que to leave. Have fun, ladies.” Chris pecked you on the cheek before pulling Carissa into a passionate kiss. You turned away, your face reddening. 

“Thanks, baby.” You heard Carissa sigh. You heard the sound of them kissing again and you looked for any welcome distraction. 

As if he could feel your pain, a wet nose booped your hand and you smiled down at your favorite little pup. 

“Hi buddy.” You bent down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “I’ve missed you so much. Yes I have.” You ruffled his fur and smiled a genuine smile as he started licking your face. 

“Oh boy, Bubba found his girlfriend.” Chris laughed as he bent down next to you. “I think he missed you more than I did when we were in Canada. Every time we would FaceTime his ears would perk up.” 

“That’s cause he’s my best bud.” You kept talking to Dodger. 

“Ouch.” Chris gently pushed you. You winked in his direction and for a moment everything felt normal. Chris’s eyes sparkled as if he was appreciating the normalcy too. 

“Chris, please.” You were snapped out of it when Carissa let out a playful whine. 

Chris blinked and then slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Alright, baby. I’m gone.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“He did not!” Carissa burst out laughing as you finished telling the story of when Chris singlehandedly knocked down an entire aisle in CVS. 

“I’ve never seen him turn so red in my life. I think he went back to that CVS every day for the next year to apologize. And of course he stayed afterwards to help clean up.” You wiped your eyes, tears falling from laughter. 

“Sounds just like him.”  

You took another sip of your margarita. You were surprised at how much fun you were actually having. You guys had just finished your second sheet mask of the night and were currently working on demolishing the stuffed crust pizza you ordered. Manis and Pedis to follow. 

“Have I walked in on an evil plan being hatched?” You both turned as Chris emerged from the basement, Dodger in tow. Thankfully he had put a shirt on because his tattoos always did something to you. 

“Had to share the CVS Incident of ‘17.” You replied as Carissa hid her face as she giggled again. 

“Oh god,” Chris groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Please. Let that story die.” You watched as he positioned himself behind Carissa, caging her in with his arms. You always knew Chris was an affectionate person. If it was a year ago, you would have been the one trapped between him. He had a lot of love to give and wasn’t afraid to show it. He placed a kiss on the top of her head before his blue eyes met yours. 

You knew that he was silently asking you if you were having a good time. You could see the sense of hope that was behind the question. 

“You came up just in time for a manicure.” Carissa turned around on the stool and smiled up at her boyfriend. “I’m thinking hot pink would look amazing on you.” 

“I don’t know, I think he’s more of an aquamarine kind of guy.” You lifted up the shade of blue that was in front of you. “Compliments his eyes.” 

“Ooh, you are so right, Y/N/N.” 

“Wow, would you look at that? Looks like the game is back on.” Chris jokingly started moving away from Carissa.

“Oh come on, baby. One hand.” Carissa pulled at his hand, her lips coming out in a pout.

Chris gave her a look of fake annoyance but you could see the smile forming on his lips before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“One hand.” 

“Yay!” 

You watched as Chris sat down and Carissa got to work painting his nails. 

“Okay, Y/N. Tell me about the men in your life.” Carissa looked away from Chris’s hand and turned to you.

“Well, I guess you’ve already met them. Chris, Scott and Dodger are it.” You shrugged, half kidding and half not. Chris gave you a look of what you could only call pity and you chose to ignore him. You could feel your face become hot at your lack of a love life. 

“Oh that can’t be the case. You’re absolutely gorgeous, there’s no way that men aren’t all over you. Right, Chris? Tell her she’s beautiful.” 

“She knows I think she’s beautiful.” Chris said, his tone seriously as his eyes never left yours. “It’s more of getting her to know that.”  

“We’re not going to talk about it.” 

You and Chris stared each other down before Carissa cleared her throat. 

“Well one day you are going to find something like what we have.  The hopeless romantic in me truly believes that there is someone for everyone; and I know that if we can find happiness like this, so can you. You’re an amazing person, Y/N.” 

You looked down and bit your lip. You wanted so badly not to like her, to have her be some terrible person so you could justify the feelings that you had for her boyfriend. And yet, here she was, being the kindest person and caring truly for your feelings and your happiness. 

“Thank you, Carissa.” 

She smiled a toothy grin before turning her attention back to Chris. Chris kept his eyes on you a moment longer but when you didn’t look back he sighed and focused on his girlfriend. 

- - - - - - - 

“You don’t have to do that.” Carissa came up behind you as you finished washing the plates from before. 

“It’s really no problem.” You shrugged. “You did all of this, the least I can do is clean up.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my guest. A host should never have her guest clean up.” You knew she meant it without malice but the words stung. She was right. That’s all you were in this house, a guest. You were their guest. They lived here, together. 

You just nodded and finished the plate you were cleaning before stepping away from the sink so Carissa could finish. You mumbled that you were headed to the bathroom and quickly made your departure from the kitchen. 

You rounded the familiar corner and bit your lip as you were five steps away from the bathroom, where you could finally take a deep breath. 

“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped as Chris stepped out of his bedroom, a grin plastered on his face. “I think you made a good call on the nail polish color.” He waved his fingers in your face, jokingly. 

You let out a soft laugh but refused to meet his eyes, instead eying the bathroom door that was so close and yet so far. 

“Okay, come on.” Chris’s voice got serious. “Is there something going on at work? Are you sick? Why are you so…” Chris motioned his hands up and down your body. 

“So what, Chris?” 

“So sad?” His eyebrows creased in concern. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

Not everything. 

“I told you at the restaurant, I’m fine.” 

“Yeah and I barely believed you then.” You bit your lip and once again looked away from him. You should have known that he knew you were lying out of your ass. 

“Chris, it doesn’t matter. It’s not your problem.” You huffed. 

“Of course it’s my problem.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“But it’s not.” You snapped. Chris took a step back at your sudden change in attitude. “Just back off. You’re not my boyfriend.” 

“And?” He snapped back, but he did move closer to you. He reached out and grabbed your forearms, pulling you into him.  “I may not be your boyfriend but I am your best friend.” 

“Chris, just let it go. It doesn’t even concern you.” You lied as you pushed him away.  

“Well clearly this one thing as something to do with me. Since you’ve been acting like a mega bitch since I got home.” He crossed his arms. 

You took a step back. Chris had never called you that before. Yes, you two had gotten into some heated discussions in the past and maybe have gone a couple times without talking to each other for maybe a day. But never once has he called you a bitch. 

“Chris!” Carissa’s scolding voice came from behind. “Apologize to her right now, there is no reason to call any woman that word.” 

Chris’s gaze held yours before it softened. 

He sighed and dropped his arms. “Fuck...sweetheart. I’m-” 

“Thank you for having me over, Carissa. I really did have a great time.” You turned away from him before he could finish. “I think I’m going to head out though.” 

“Of course.” Carissa glared at Chris over your shoulder. “Please let us-or me, know when you get home. We can plan another one soon.” 

“Sure.” You smiled weakly at her before casting one last look at Chris. He opened his mouth to say something but you just shook your head and made your way out of the house. 

Tags

@stopbeingcurious 

@lharrietg​

@thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

@username23345​

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x6 thoughts

I felt like the physical embodiment of a series of iconic reaction GIFs while watching this episode. I felt like Higgins gagging on air and right and wrong choices. As an invested, non-casual Ted Lasso viewer, I feel quite absorbed in the experience of every episode, but I’m not usually a LOUD non-casual Ted Lasso viewer. At one point last night, I shouted “This is the wackiest show ever made!” at @bristler, and that doesn’t even sound like something I would say. And by “wacky” I just meant “all the emotions are happening at once.”

This episode was absolutely great and I knew that every single Rebecca Welton feeling I have would intensify because of this episode and that is exactly what happened.

This is me bravely writing down my episode thoughts after only one viewing (just like last week) and a bad night of sleep! Copious spoilers and emotions ahead...

This show goes all in on hats! A lot of bad hats for giving bad relationship advice and making bad decisions! Feel like you’re gonna do something correctly? Just put on a bad hat, that’ll snap you right out of it. Just had a revelation that you are almost certainly in an abusive relationship? Your girlfriend is hiding in the parking lot with a terrible hat for you! (I love this show.)

Dark forest dark forest dark forest dark forest.

I truly, truly, truly do not mean this to sound judgmental of any other fan, but it’s taking everything in my power not to just type “dark forest” in the comments of every person who is outraged that LDN152 is not Ted.

Gonna get my initial thoughts on the Sam=LDN152 reveal out of the way. I honestly like this choice.

First, I like this choice because of who LDN152 isn’t. I think about how awful it would be if she’d matched with Rupert and realized she’d been manipulated by him and charmed by him all over again, and how, when she gets the same reveal the audience already has, she would end up retraumatized by having been charmed and taken in by Rupert all over again. I think about her matching with Nate (if he’d redownloaded the app) and the inadequacy of her assertiveness advice and how Nate is one of the only non-Rupert characters who’s used sexist language against her and how Nate’s insecurities would be like water trying to co-exist with the oil of Rebecca’s insecurities. Nate and Rebecca are fond of each other and seem to want to be in each other’s lives, but a romantic squishing together via dating app would set them both back lightyears. I think about her matching with Ted, a man currently on a parallel-to-Rebecca trek through a very painfully dark forest, a man swinging wildly between performative attempted wit and utter panic. A man she trusts with her professional and personal challenges. [Her challenging mother comes to town and Keeley and Ted are the people she wants with her at lunch.] Ted and Rebecca, with all their current limitations, and with all the ways the forest obscures the view, are trying to be there for each other in their real, non-romantic comedy versions of their lives, and the discomfort of matching on an app seems like the kind of thing that would make them rear back from each other instead of bringing them even closer together. It is not time. It is so profoundly not time that I would have been furious if the writers had continued the “maybe it’s Ted?” line of thought for another second longer than they did.

Second, I like this choice because of who Sam is. I know. He’s not an appropriate match for her. The power dynamics are all messed up and their ages are all wrong. But this does introduce a potentially interesting parallel between Rupert and his younger women and the scrutiny Rebecca would risk herself and Sam experiencing if she goes for it. Rebecca seems to have tried to put away her Rupert-related trauma, but the specter of Rupert is lurking, and I do see that being a good person making an ethically complicated decision with another good person is very different from being an abuser setting out to take advantage of multiple people...but there are parallels she might have to reckon with. Also, Sam is a kind person with a strong ethical center and a well-documented interest in Rebecca. He and Ted helped each other feel more at home in London during a time of deeply missing other homes, and Sam has internalized a lot of Ted’s ways of living in a way that might genuinely appeal to Rebecca even if she doesn’t fully realize why. The writers on this show don’t write messes for the sake of drama. They write messes because life is painful and complicated and also very funny. I’d be shocked if, however this Bantr thing plays out, it isn’t painful and complicated and also funny.

(I am already a little worried that whatever happens next is going to activate some very ironic fan reactions given this is a show whose thesis statement is about withholding judgment. This fear is based not on Ted Lasso-specific knowledge but on unfortunate patterns of fandom, but...you can fear the impact of racist, sexist, and ageist tropes on two beloved characters without embodying those tropes as a viewer. You can watch characters make decisions that could subject them to harmful scrutiny without performing that harm yourself.)

Ted Lasso is a fictional character who tweeted about the joy of eating out (you know...at the Crown and Anchor) the day before 2x6 launched and during 2x6 Rebecca invited him to eat out at the Crown and Anchor. (I love this show.) I am so, so, so fond of all the little lunch-y things in this episode. Ted can’t bring Henry his lunch because he’s “at work” aka living in London. Ted and Beard surprise each other with secret sandwiches on Fridays. Rebecca is overwhelmed by her mother’s visit (her mother’s performance of a harmful pattern) and wants Keeley and Ted there. The scene at the Crown and Anchor, as painful as all the divorce/separation feelings were, was also so homey and lovely in terms of these characters being friends, being at home in a place despite the very not-at-home feelings emanating from Deborah. The Bake-Off viewing! Ted being the designated driver (probably a good thing on this particular day)! Rebecca feeling discomfort but not shutting down! Also cute British pub feelings. Evidence that Rebecca has talked to her mom about Ted! About personal things about Ted!

Naaaaaaate. His bursts of confidence and insight. The pain and insecurity and anger almost literally bubbling under the surface.

I cannot say enough good things about Higgins. He’s grown so much, and his decision to be honest with Beard regarding his concerns about Jane was absolutely impeccably done. Many, many trusted people in Higgins’ life told him not to do it. They are all good people, and they were all wrong. Sometimes one human being’s honesty makes the difference for someone who is struggling, and that’s exactly what happened here. Beard truly heard Higgins. And of course he didn’t immediately break things off with Jane. But he heard Higgins, and when Jane showed up Beard’s face looked different than it ever has, and Higgins words are with him as he walks off into the night with Jane and that might save him. And Rebecca witnessed it.

And I’m so glad she witnessed Higgins’ choice in the midst of this very difficult experience of a) trying to find Ted because she knows he’s in pain and being unable to and b) watching her mother repeat a pattern that Rebecca herself was able to break. It taught me so much about Rebecca. The way she was punished (and described the experience using the language of punishment) for having an honest reaction to her mother’s decision to leave her father the first time. The way she was taught that love is conditional, that love and reconciliation are things you can purchase with gifts. The way her mother uses the language of self-help without internalizing what it would take to heal, and probably has little use for actual therapy. The way her mother drinks alcohol as a way to feel free.

I don’t even know how to think, much less write, about everything with Roy’s coaching and his image and how Ted feels about it and all the fatherhood things Jamie brings up and all the fatherhood things Ted is missing w/r/t Nate and everyone except for Rebecca taking at face value (or willfully deciding to take at face value) the idea that Ted’s panic attack is actually just him needing to go barf up a fish pie. Ted hugging his backpack in Sharon’s office. Rebecca trying to find him, and Sharon being the one who does. The words “I wanna make an appointment” being the words that conclude the episode at the exact midpoint of the planned-for show. Halfway through the middle season. The moment Ted realizes he’s never going to be okay if he doesn’t give therapy a try.

I also can’t say enough good things about the moment with the team and Sharon, the way she agrees to one drink, the way it’s clear that she adores them all. Sharon is exacting and professional without being cold and calculating, and everything she does in this episode is such a gorgeous model of assertiveness, patience, and moderation...three things Ted struggles with the most.

What a dark forest. What an excellent group of humans.

[letarasstuff]

A touchy Subject

(A/N): This is requested by an anon. It is based on this post.

Summary: Some people don’t like to be touched, which can interpreted into the wrong thing.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, but it’s only a false accusation

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“That’s why I’ll write to the NYPD they are looking for a-” Hotch wants to explain, but is cut off by a phone ringing. Everyone at the round table looks at the source aka their resident genius.

With his face turning red Spencer looks at the caller ID, immediately recognizing the number. “Uh, it’s (Y/N)’s school. I have to take this?” It’s more a question directed to Aaron, who gives him a nod. Quickly the lanky man scrambles out of the conference room while accepting the call.

“Hello, Dr. Spencer Reid speaking.” “Hello Dr. Reid, this is Miss Pickett from your daughter’s elementary school. There is something I want to speak with you regarding (Y/N)’s behavior. Would it be ok, if you come in in half an hour, so we can talk?”

At that he is taken aback. His daughter’s behavior? Spencer always tried to raise a friendly and sweet girl, who is ready to help if needed. What could be possibly wrong with her? Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have a mother in her life?

A few months after (Y/N)’s birth her mother decided to move herself out of the picture, deeming herself unable to fulfill the role of a mother. Since then Spencer tries to be both a mother and a father to her, but this works not always. That’s why he is so happy she gets along with the women of the BAU, accepting them as her Aunts and female role models. (Y/N) knows she is able to go to them if there is an issue Spencer would not understand. He told her several times to not be afraid to go to them, that he won’t be mad at her.

“I’m sorry, the school wants me there to talk about (Y/N). I’m not sure what the issue is, but I think I will take her with me back, if it is ok?” The doctor looks at his boss for permission.

“It’s fine, Reid. You don’t have to come back in, your daughter is your first priority, we can manage to write the profile without you. Though I think Garcia would be happy to see her, the last case was pretty intense for her. It’s best if you decide depending on the problem.” He understands Spencer’s problem, being a single father himself.

“Will do, thank you Hotch!” With encouraging words echoing out of the room he grabs his satchel and makes his way to his daughter’s school. On his path worries about his child plague his thoughts, leaving him unable to think about something, anything, different.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I have an appointment with Miss Pickett, my daughter’s teacher?” The agent tells the secretary. The friendly looking man points him to the teacher’s classroom, which is where she wanted to meet the father.

Nervously Spencer waits for the “Come in” after he knocks on the door. “Ah, Dr. Reid, thank you so much for coming on short notice. I know you have a pretty tight schedule with your work and I’m really sorry for pulling you away, but there is something important I have to talk with you about.” The more Miss Pickett, a nice woman in her mid thirties with long brown hair, talks, the worse the father feels.

“I don’t want to rush anything, Miss Pickett, but what are you talking about? What is wrong with my daughter’s behavior?”

“Dr. Reid, is there any possibility (Y/N) gets abused?” She looks him dead in the eye. Her whole demeanor tells the profiler that she takes the whole situation seriously, otherwise he would have laughed out loud. This is the most absurd thing he heard all day long and Garcia ranted to him about a fantasy video game earlier.

“With all due respect, but do you really think I would hit my daughter? No, there is no way. You know that it’s only the two of us and there is nobody else, who could do anything to her without my knowledge. What are you thinking? On which proof do you make these accusations?” There is nothing for Spencer that could indicate his daughter is being hit at home. She is a naturally curious girl, friendly, smart and sweet.

“Whenever her classmates try to give her a high five, she ducks away. When I pat her shoulder as a way to show my appreciation for her comments or work she flinches. Dr. Reid, I’m by far not a profiler, but I know as good as you that an apprehension towards touching is one of the major signs for abuse. So I need you to be honest with me: Do you abuse her?”

There is no way this is real, is the only thought Spencer can form right now. Being directly accused is something different than the underlying implication.

“Miss Pickett, I’m honest with you: Let the profilers do the profiling.” While talking he leans towards her in a threatening manner. “My daughter was never hit, is never hit and will never be hit by me or anyone else as long as I breathe. (Y/N) is apprehensive to touch like many other people, introverts for example. Just because she and her behavior doesn’t fit into your extroverted world doesn’t mean I lay a hand on her. And for your information: She loves to cuddle with me and anyone she has a deep bond with. You are only her teacher, not a person she trusts or knows well enough. I appreciate your concern, but making an accusation like that has to be funded by more than only one indicator. Now excuse me, I will sign my daughter out and take her to people, who don't pressure her into doing something she isn’t comfortable with.”

Angrily Spencer stomps out of the colorful classroom, which is the whole opposite of his current mood.

“Me again, I want to sign out (Y/N) Reid, she has math in room 23 with Mrs Muller. Should I go get her or how do you do it here?” He asks the receptionist.

“I call her teacher, she sends your daughter here, Dr. Reid. Just a moment.” Not long after this an excited “DADDY” echoes through the long hallway. A sudden force throws itself against the father’s leg.

“I didn’t know you would pick me up early!” (Y/N) tells him joyfully, happy to see her dad again. As soon as he crouches down, she throws herself into his arms. “I missed you.” It’s still hard for a second grader to grasp the concept of time.

“I missed you, too, Sweetheart. What do you think, do you want to come with me to the berau? Auntie Penelope is kind of sad and there’s nobody better at cheering her up than you!” At that she nods vehemently.

The father picks his daughter up, carrying her out of the building. On his way out he spots Miss Pickett out of the corner of his eye, who watches them closely. While (Y/N) tells her father about her day, she plays with his hair, unknowingly defeating anything her teacher said earlier.

“Daddy, do you think Auntie Penny needs a normal hug or a bear hug?”

“I think she needs two bear hugs, just to be safe.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Just to be safe.”

[parvulous-writings]

Jesse McCree // SFW  alphabet

​Summary: A sfw A-Z for Jesse McCree, from Overwatch! 

Warnings: use of tobacco/smoking, brief mention of death.

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! 

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

Jesse is pretty affectionate, especially when the pair of you are alone. One armed hugs, hair ruffles and head pats are his absolute favourite way to show you affection. On occasion giving you a kiss on the cheek when in public, and his kisses goodbye are always on the lips. Always. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?) 

McCree is quite often the sassy joker of a friend group, always pitching in a one-liner or two during even the most casual of conversations. He’s also quite the charmer, shamelessly flirting with you and occasionally others when the moment suits it. Though he will not hesitate to jump to your defense should someone else get too snarky with you. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) 

Though he would never blurt out the fact, he loves cuddles. Curling up with you in a cosy corner, whether it be a bed or a cushioned seat, it’s one of his favourite things, he can’t deny it. He cuddles you by drawing you as close as he can so he can warm your body with his own, wrapping his arms firmly around you like a child with their favourite stuffie. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?) 

He isn’t all that fussed on settling down in any one place, so long as he can stay by you, I’d wager he’d be pretty content. He’s an alright cook, not the best but not the worst either. Cleaning, the man is far from mastering that skill (he leaves his clothes everywhere unless they’re going in the wash). 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

He’d be straightforward about it. Something along the lines of;  “Look, I care for ya, sugar, really I do... But I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?) 

If you asked him, he’d probably just brush it all off with a smile. If he was honest though- commitment like engagement or marriage intimidated him a little bit. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, it was more that he’s the kind of man to live more in the moment than to plan ahead. 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

He’s fairly gentle, when he knows he needs to be. Other than that, he’s average on that kind of thing- a life in Deadlock Grange will do that to a man. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Jesse is usually indifferent to hugs. Except goodbye hugs, he’ll never miss out on those, not in a million years. He knows how sporadic and random Death can be in life. 

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

He doesn’t say it particularly quickly, but once he actually acknowledges his feelings for you, he’ll say it pretty often. Before you both go to sleep, before you go on a mission, etc. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

McCree does tend to get jealous- usually he tries to hide it, figuring it’s an undesirable trait of his that you wouldn’t be too fond of. There are other times, however, when it does manage to get past his filter. He gets pretty agitated when jealous, and kind of possessive as well. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

It depends on the situation. If you’re out in public, it’s usually a quick peck, on the cheek or chastely on the lips. If you’re alone, they last for a lot longer, and are much, much warmer, full of the love he often restrains from showing in front of others. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

He’s more like an uncle figure than a father figure. He’s fun, and is relatively good with kids, but shouldn’t really be a prolonged role model for them. His role seems admirable, but it’s very morally grey, and should really only be tackled when the children are mature. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Slow, and sweet. Jesse usually lays in, even when he has things to do. He especially likes cuddling up to you when he’s still half asleep. “Best damn feelin’ in the world.” 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Kind of like the mornings spent with him. Slow, quiet, and endearing. He likes just appreciating time with you, basking in your presence and showing you all the adoration you deserve. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

Often late at night, when he’s tired and you’re both alone. It’s when his walls fall down, his exhaustion making them crumble. He also thinks that because you’re also probably tired, you’ll hardly remember his low, quiet voice spilling stories about his demons. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This depends on how much sleep he’s gotten, or how stressed he’s been recently. If he’s gotten enough sleep and life has been easy on him, he’s like a lazy river- but then if he’s deprived of sleep and work has piled onto him, he’s more like the blazing fires of hell. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers a fair amount. Not everything- he’d say that’s impossible. But a reasonable amount. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

When the two of you went to the Diner along Route 66. Though he personally doesn’t always like the place, the jokes you made that day still make him chuckle. You also fed him some apple pie and that’s something he’ll never let go of. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Rather protective. He gives you all the info and training you need- should you not know anything already- to defend yourself, but he is very much aware that he shouldn’t be too overbearing or try to fight every battle for you. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

Considering Jesse is more often than not a very laid back man, he puts in a good amount of effort. He remembers almost every important date for the pair of you- which is a little unusual in every other aspect of his life- and often makes time specifically for you. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. A lot. As in a lot a lot. He’s tried once or twice to give up, but he just can’t seem to.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

McCree isn’t vain per se, but he is certainly conscious of his appearance. He keeps as well groomed as he can between missions, but he knows he doesn’t always look the most pristine of men. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel lonely. Really lonely. The same feeling he feels on solo scouting missions. He doesn’t like being away from you for too long. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man shares every poncho/scarf he owns with you. Every single one. His favourite is the red one, he loves seeing you in it, but he thinks that the royal blue one he has looks best on you. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

McCree is a lot of things, but a fussy man is not one of them.  Except when it comes to the coffee in Deadlock Grange. He hates it. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

This man sleeps like a rock. Almost nothing wakes him. Period. You could scream at him, flash a bright light in his face, this man isn’t waking from external stimuli. The only thing that wakes him is some of the nightmares he gets. 

[zv5x]

Oh? 👀👀👀

~🌸

The moment we have all been waiting for, a part two to the angst haven yan!spirit fic !

I'm also going to tag @fizzy-popp as well since they wanted this too and I modeled this part two off of their request since I liked it a lot !!!!

(A/N) - I left the method (Y/N) used to get Spirit out of the Hating Simulator ambiguous considering it wasn't confirmed how he was trapped in there and my brain is too fried to think of a method that makes genuine sense , I feel like it might be just some chant or something like that but I'm not sure so we're all gonna have to use our imaginations on this one tehee

Stay safe you all and remember my inbox is always open!

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

How long's it been? At least a few years. Most definitely, but you were too absorbed in finally being independent again that you were too euphoric to worry about counting your days. It wasn't like your freedom had a deadline, after all.

It was just another day, a day which you spent happily around the presence of other people. One of them asked you to borrow something at the cafe, and being the kind person you always tried to be, was absolutely willing to help out. You were sure you had what they wanted (hell, you had everything a human could ever need no matter the situation) in a room you haven't touched in lord knows how long. Your brain wanted you to remember what the reason for that was, but your guilty conscience begged you to remain ignorant. At least for as long as you could.

The item they desired laid near a far corner, and you found it with great ease. However, your main objective was pushed to the side as you looked to your side and fixed your gaze on a certain jet black console. Your heart sunk as your eyes focused in on it, your brain throwing all the memories attached to it front in center. You knelt down, scooting up to it by your knees and wiping a line of dust off it with a single swipe of your trembling finger.

He was still in there. Spirit was in there.

Tears pricked your eyes as you felt yourself raising the console up and settling it down inside your lap.

Was he even conscious at this point? You weren't sure. Though, with all the memories flooding back to you, it was easier said than done, letting yourself stay with those questions. Still trembling, you picked the console up and held it close to your chest. Walking to your own room, with a TV set up all ready for him, you pondered about what you were to say to Spirit.

A "did you learn your lesson", while appropriate considering the circumstances, would sound quite insensitive to any outside viewer, and especially to Spirit himself. An "I'm sorry" would more than likely imply Spirit was without fault, and you couldn't have him falling back into his own delusions the moment you were considering freeing him once more.

Settling the console down in your room, you finally were able to get a good look at the state it was left in. Dusty, tangled cables, cold to the touch. Still, it looked hauntingly comforting. Like a parasitical nostalgia with sickening undertones. You could barely focus on reality as you turned the console on and plugged the cords in all their respective places. You were only snapped back to the present moment as that oh-so familiar title music filled your ears and almost caused you to jump. You sat and listened to it for a moment, staring longingly at the sprite of Senpai that lingered on the screen. It reminded you of a much easier time, and though he was a robot, you hoped he was doing a lot better than you were at the present moment.

Pressing a button meant to pass the title screen, you weren't half surprised as instead of a save file screen, you were greeted with complete blackness.

"(Y/N)...is-is that you...?"

You lip quivering, you could only let out a weak hum in response to who you knew was at the other side of the screen. Immediately after hearing your response, you saw him pop up on the screen, gentle sobs just barely audible from where you were positioned and from the current volume of the television.

"I missed you...so much..." His voice was weak, he sounded absolutely defeated. Not that you blamed him, though. That place just be hell to spend so long in, along with the anxiety of wondering if today was the day the code would break completely, leaving you to rot in your own digital corruption. Thinking back on it, you didn't know what you were thinking. There were better ways you could have approached this, you didn't know why your last resort had to so quickly become your first.

"I'm-I'm here to let you out, Spirit. I'm so, so sorry..." Breaking your promise to yourself to not apologize, you wiped tears from your eyes with your sleeve and quickly thought of how you got him out last time.

Taking a deep breath, you repeated the exact steps you took the last time you wanted him out. However, this time, you harbored the guilt of being the one who trapped him in there in the first place. You wonder if he, the father of the girl who originally gave you the game, felt any guilt for being the original trapper. You wondered if he thought about Spirit after he trapped him even half as much as you did.

Soon, in no time at all, you allowed yourself to take a breath you failed to realize you were depriving yourself of, and your eyes locked on him. There he stood, right there back in the middle of your room. He stood silently for a moment, before looking down and staring at his hands. He was full again, free again. You gave him another chance.

Slowly, he looked up at you, just as you got up from the floor and met him at his height, swallowing hard before giving him a sympathetic smile. "Welcome back, Spirit..." He blinked, looking as if he could barely believe he was finally standing in front of you once more. Like you were the most rarest occurrence showing itself right before his eyes. But still, he seemed still disillusioned by the whole situation. Maybe he just needed some time to adjust.

And so, you gave him that time. All while giving the real affectionate attention you know he's missed for so very long. You spoke to him, clueing him in on every major human event he's missed, giving him yet another tour of your house, smiling at him and pointing in the direction of every new belonging the two of you passed. He seemed silent, still. Closed off. That was, until, you paused right in the middle of the room, cooing words of encouragement and gently patting his head. Feeling your touch, his eyes widened instantly, tears welling up from the feeling.

Bursting into sobs upon feeling your touch, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder, holding back purrs as he felt you rub smooth circles on his back. He feared the two drastically different emotions being expressed physically at the same time would do more harm than good, so he focused on expressing his bittersweet grief first.

"I still love you, (Y/N)..."

Smiling and giving a gentle peck on his cheek, you shushed him ever so gently.

"I know you do, Spirit. I know you do." Your voice was so calm, so welcoming, he truly wasn't able to comprehend how he lived so long without being able to hear it.

You let him out, and now, he was sure you expected a change in behavior from him. Lucky for the both of you, Spirit was planning on staying true to what he promised you before you left him all those years ago.

That he'd be good. And he'd do it all for you.

Now that you're here with him once more, he'll be (quite literally) damned if he'll ever let the two of you be torn apart again.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Cut You Down to Size

AYO its Day 1 of the MGI Trope Tussle! I’m representing Team Enemies-to-Lovers! Lets Get It!

Fics Masterlist

Damigami 5.5K words Oneshot, no warnings apply

Summary:

Alfred signs Damian up for his school's fencing club. There he meets a red clad demon with a sabre.

Day 1 prompt: My name is unimportant— you, tyrant, will die today by my blade.

without further ado:

This was stupid. Damian could not understand Pennyworth’s logic behind signing him up for his school’s fencing club. He was a trained assassin, studying under the world’s greatest swordsmen, and no one at his school would be able to keep up with him. He was miles ahead in terms of technique and experience. So why on earth would he subject himself to this asinine, idle waste of time on a Saturday?

“Remember, young master, it is important to your father that you enjoy hobbies more suitable for others your age. All your other siblings have activities to distract them from the eccentricities of their nighttime activities.” Right, that’s why. Pennyworth spoke as if he were reminding an imbecile how to not walk into oncoming traffic and his tone grated on Damian’s nerves. “Don’t pout, Master Damian, it is unbecoming. Besides, it would make your father proud if you were able to blend in with other teens.”

He most definitely was not pouting but he could agree that making his father proud and not compromising their identities were important. His weary sigh was the only answer he gave to Pennyworth before stepping out of the car and entering the school gym. He squared his shoulders and adjusted the gym bag before striding to the gathering of other students on the mats. They were all in varying degrees of proper white fencing gear, a sharp contrast to Damian’s black uniform. He stood off the side, waiting for the instructor and pointedly ignoring the stares of the other students. Their attention was meaningless and Damian hoped they wouldn’t turn his presence into some spectacle.

The minutes ticked by, and his patience withering away with it, before the gym’s double doors were booming open. In walked the club’s instructor followed by what looked like another school’s club and instructor trailing behind her. Damian counted at least ten students, white uniforms perfectly in place with their array of masks tucked under their arms. However, one of those students caught his eye. The striking red uniform stood out against everyone else’s and the square to their shoulders spoke of confidence not unlike his own. A small part of Damian wonders if any of that confidence was well earned but the larger part of him knew that regardless of how good they thought they were, they were still no match for him.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” The crisp voice of his instructor echoed in the now silent gym as she commanded everyone’s attention. She looked rather pleased with herself and continued to speak, addressing the Gotham students. “As you can see here, I have a visiting school’s club with me, so please join me in welcoming Francois Dupont’s fencing club, who have come all the way from Paris to practice with us.”

A half hearted applause was all the reaction she got and it was at that point that Damian tuned out the rest of her introduction. His mind had wandered to less menial things, waiting for his time to show his more than impressive skills.

He was brought out of his musings by the shrill of a whistle and was staring face to face to a rather short girl from the French club. She was looking up at him with wide blue eyes before darting away to look over the other students pairing up. Her eyes had focused on a tall blond and his Gotham partner and Damian swore he saw her swoon. Great, a scatter-brained lovesick fool was his first partner. Clearly the universe was punishing him for transgressions he was not privy to. Before he could pass further judgment on his partner, she peered back to him and spoke in soft English.

“Hi, my name is Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She tried to sound confident but her awkwardness betrayed her and the hunch in her shoulders were telling. Alfred had taught him some manners, however, so rather than ignore her as he was wont to do, he greeted her with his name and ended the conversation there. She looked ready to speak again but was cut off by another harsh blow from the whistle.

“Alright, everyone. This is just a warm-up match. Nothing too fancy and remember the rules.” The French instructor’s accent was thick and he spoke with equal robustness to match the Gotham instructor. The two made quite the pair.

He faced his partner again and put enough space between them. They both put on their masks and were poised at the ready. Her pose was amateurish but definitely better than the others he’s caught in his periphery. The cry of ‘en garde’ sounded and Damian did not hesitate to try and score a point. Emphasis on ‘try.’ While if this were a real duel Damian would have won with no hesitation, he found that he didn’t need to hold back as much as he would if she were some of his classmates. Her technique was still sloppy but at least she showed potential.

The warm-up ended with Damian scoring three points in succession but there were, admittedly, some close calls. Next, they were rotating partners and Damian was partnered off with the blond from earlier. This close, Damian faintly recognized his face and verbalized as such. The sheepish scratch behind the blond’s neck was unexpected as was the declaration that he was a fashion model back in Paris. Adrien Agreste the boy had said. Damian then chalked up his previous partner’s behaviour to nothing more than to a silly celebrity crush. No further thought was put into their dynamics as the call for positions was announced.

This duel went slightly differently than Damian had expected. Like his previous partner, Agreste was much better than first impressions would suggest. While his previous partner had poor technique with intuition to back her up, Agreste had acceptable technique with his own personal twist. Agreste backed each strike with an edge that spoke of more roguish practice. It was almost entertaining but still no match for Damian superior skills. Perhaps he could convince his father to send him to Paris for the summer if this was the kind of students the city produced. This duel ended in three points in Damian’s favour as well but he conceded a point to Agreste who got a lucky strike in. Both boys took off their masks and shook hands as a five minute break was called. As Damian turned to reach for his water bottle on the bench, Agreste approached him with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I saw your match with Marinette,” he spoke with nothing short of excitement and slight wonder. “She’s new to the club but she’s a quick learner. I’m glad she joined and she seemed to enjoy warming up with you! What do you think?”

Huh.

Maybe Agreste was the adoring fan in their dynamic. Any more brightly, and the boy’s green eyes would be sparkling like fireworks as he continued to wax poetics about the short girl. That of which got annoying pretty quickly.

Another whistle, that French coach was rather annoying with the damn thing, was blown and the students made their way back to the mats. A new rotation was called and Damian was finally paired with the red fencer who caught his eye earlier. In contrast to his previous partners, this one stared at him with poorly hidden, yet unprovoked, contempt. The furrow in her brows and slight downturn in her lips was a mirror to Damian’s own expression. The air between them was charged as they both assessed each other. Neither spoke but neither was paying detailed attention to the instructors. Issuing a silent challenge, Damian tilted his head back to stare the shorter girl down by the tip of his nose, smirking at her increasingly furrowed expression. He scoffed at her as the call for putting on their masks was issued.

“Damian,” he said at last, getting into the starting position.

“My name is unimportant— you, tyrant, will die today by my blade.”

Not even Damian’s brothers were that theatrical; his sister? Maybe. And perhaps Todd, but that’s irrelevant. Was she for real or was this a taunt that got lost in translation? Just who was she? From an outsider’s perspective, the two of them painted quite an interesting picture, posed in their black and red uniforms, a vision against the whites of their clubmates. The air was rich with their slowly growing disdain for each other. The instructor’s voice of ‘en garde’ was drowned out by their hurried movements.

It didn’t take long for Damian to deduce that his opponent was undoubtedly the best of the French group. Her moves were punctuated with needle-like precision and each attack was laced with slowly growing malice at the challenge. Damian didn’t have to hold back nearly as much as he had, once again, underestimated his opponent. There’s a lesson to be learned here but he would never give Pennyworth that satisfaction. The butler’s smug grin and echoed voice of ‘you are not nearly as infallible as you believe, Master Damian’ arose in his mind and the irritation at the notion was channelled directly into his current duel. He struck out with more aggression than he initially had intended to but, as it had put his opponent on the defensive, he wasn’t going to rear his anger in. Instead, he let it fuel his movements more, pushing his opponent off the mat as they danced across the floor.

This only spurred his nameless opponent on more as she matched him strike for strike in equal aggression. Damian wasn’t sure if it was due to his sudden tunnel vision but he could have sworn that the world narrowed to only the two of them, the clash of their weapons being the only sound he could hear. Time faded into nothing and all his focus was on parrying and attacking and lunging and parrying again in a vicious cycle. Points were earned back and forth but no time was called in between to award either of them. This wasn’t a match for points. This was war. A battle to the death issued by the red demon before him. She was no longer just a practice partner or an aggravating opponent. This was his enemy now. Damian would not fail. Damian Wayne doesn’t lose after all.

The shrill of a whistle had the two freezing in place. Giving himself a few seconds to collect himself, Damian felt as if he was coming out of a haze. He watched as the red fencer before him relaxed her posture and turned to face the French coach. Taking off his mask and catching his breath, he noticed that the two of them held the collective attention of the two clubs.

“Now THAT is fencing!” The French coach’s boisterous voice echoed in the gym and was accompanied by his harsh clapping. His two previous practice partners were equally as enthusiastic but subdued in their applause, sporting matching grins at the red fencer. Damian could only glare at the students, refusing to acknowledge his opponent.

The rest of practice went on as such for the next hour but none of the other French fencers captivated him like the first three. They must have had private tutors as they were obviously a cut above the rest. Practice ended without much fanfare and Damian found himself waiting for Pennyworth outside the school gates as the French class were loading their bus. He only caught the tail end of the slight murmurs of conversation but Damian caught the Agreste boy referring to the red fencer as Kagami. Hmm.

Pennyworth pulled up shortly after and once he was inside the vehicle, Pennyworth didn’t hesitate to question him about the experience.

“There was a visiting French club. They were lackluster and struggled to keep up with me even with me holding back.” He refused to look the old man in the eye, glancing a knowing smirk on his aged face. “Three of them showed promise. But I was still superior in every way.”

“Well then, I hope they didn’t tire you out completely. I believe we are expecting some of those same French students over for dinner this afternoon.”

“Pardon?” Damian could not be bothered to compose his irritation at Pennyworth’s brazen declaration. Why was he just learning about this now? “Any idea who exactly will be joining us?”

“I believe Madame Dupain-Cheng, Madame Tsurugi and Mister Agreste all agreed.” Agreste? The model boy. Damian was willing to bet that Dupain-Cheng was the short girl from the warm-up as the two seemed fond of each other. That would probably make Tsurugi his red opponent, Kagami. But that begs the question why they were invited to dinner. Schooling his expression and gaining some more composure, Damian addressed the butler again.

“Any reason why those students in particular?” Aiming for an aura of nonchalance, he continued. “It’s quite the coincidence as those were the three French students I mentioned showing promise. Why were they invited?”

Pennyworth saw right through him and casted a humoured glance at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Oh, I would say that Madame Tsurugi shows more than just promise, Master Damian. She is an Olympic hopeful after all.” That… That makes sense Damian supposes. It would definitely explain her confidence and skill. But she still irritated him.

“And what of the other two?”

“Those two would be Madame Tsurugi’s closest friends. Their club is here on a Wayne Foundation sponsorship and your father personally invited Madame Tsurugi to dinner.” Pennyworth paused as he turned into the manor gates. “She and her mother agreed to the invitation on the condition that the young lady’s friends be invited as well. I see they have left quite the impression on you.”

“They require further judgement,” and the conversation died there.

Ignoring the crowd of his siblings upon entering the manor, Damian went straight for his room to research more on his new rival and company.

After two hours of constant research, he was reluctant to admit that the three were rather accomplished in their own rights, and that he had completely misjudged them. Dupain-Cheng was a talented baker and designer and was indeed a fast learner, only officially being in the fencing club for two months. She was also in a new relationship with Agreste. That explains the sappiness and nauseating shower of compliments. Agreste himself was a budding pianist on top of his modelling and fencing prowess. He even featured in some gigs by a local popular band. Tsurugi was more than just an Olympic hopeful, coming from a famous line of fencers and kendo masters back in Japan. She has a roster of competitions won and is currently holding three world titles for her age group. He supposes that that’s quite impressive. But it still doesn’t supersede his training. Would it be improper to challenge her to another duel when she arrives? Probably.

Checking the time, he realized there was forty minutes until dinner and only ten until the three guests arrived. He freshened up his appearance and changed out of his fencing gear into more appropriate attire. He headed down to the foyer to wait with his siblings in greeting their guests. Cain stood next to him and gave him a quick once-over glance. She didn’t say anything but her giggles did not bode well for Damian.

The door was being held open as their three guests walked in and they all wore matching expressions of surprise as their gaze landed on Damian. They greeted his father and each of his siblings, exchanging quick hello’s before the Agreste boy regarded Damian.

“Hey! You’re that guy from the fencing club.” All eyes were on Damian in an instant, his siblings wearing various ranges of delight.

“Yes, he is that guy from the fencing club. Tell us everything,” Todd interjected. He swung a casual arm around Agreste and began herding them further into the manor towards the drawing room. Before Damian can begin to preserve his reputation, Todd and Agreste were already in deep conversation with random input from Dupain-Cheng and Grayson. Tsurugi hung back from the herd and was thanking his father for the invitation. Her calm, withdrawn voice was very different from the scorn she was showering him with during their duel. She caught him staring at her and just ignored him, brushing past him to follow quickly behind the others. He caught his father’s eye and regarded the man silently. Even when maintaining public appearances, his father never did anything without reason. So what was the value in inviting some French kids his company was sponsoring? Olympic grade or not, it was still uncharacteristically more involved than other other company sponsorships in the past.

What was his father’s angle here?

He hoped it didn’t involve playing nice with Tsurugi because her frigid disposition is more trouble than it’s worth. The karma is not lost on him.

Entering the drawing room, he walks into the middle of Agreste illustrating the nature of his duel against Tsurugi. He added unnecessary flourish, making the match seem more grandiose than it really was. He would deny any and all effort exerted as that was a sign of weakness. Damian was not weak.

“I’ll have you know,” he began, collecting their undivided attention, again. “The match with Tsurugi was child’s play. I only entertained her for so long because I thought she could provide some real competition. Clearly, I was mistaken,” he said, like a liar.

“I am more than just competition.” Tsurugi had stood from her place on the sofa to try and face him on even ground. She was still shorter than him but the intimidation was rolling off her in waves. “I will prove to you that I am a worthy opponent.”

That was an invitation for a rematch if Damian’s ever heard one. As he was about to accept the challenge, Pennyworth entered with an announcement of dinner, guiding everyone into the appropriate dining room. His siblings rushed for various seats, splitting up their guests and mixing them in with their chaos. The seating arrangement his siblings had orchestrated had him sitting directly across from the current bane of his existence. The two regarded each other silently, trapped in their own quiet bubble separate from the ruckus of the table.

The dinner was wonderful, as usual, and conversation was as normal as this family was capable of. Except for the intense staring contest he was engaged in with his enemy. She was civil, cordial even, with the rest of the family, sharing jokes with Cain and Thomas with no issue and handled Todd’s annoyance with grace but she couldn’t get a reign on her disdain for Damian. He faintly noticed her two friends exchange curious glances with each other. He paid them no mind; his attention lying elsewhere.

“So, Kagami,” Drake’s voice cut through the loud atmosphere, silencing the table. “You mentioned earlier that you will prove to Damian that you’re a worthy opponent. How do you plan to go about that?” He tried to go for casual but he failed and Damian knew he was doing it just to get a reaction out of him.

“A battle to the death of course,” she was quick with her reply and her tone had no hints of humor. She means every word of that statement. Equal expressions of shock were on his family’s faces, no one knowing what to say. A distasteful snort from the blond cut through the air.

“Kagami,” her friend, Dupain-Cheng, had cut in with a slight chuckle, “I don’t think they know you’re joking.”

“My apologies, then.” Her lips were curled in a faint smirk and then she said, “While I initially had all intentions to contest his false assessment, over the course of the dinner, I have concluded that he is someone not worth the effort.” She took a sip of her drink, completely ignoring the uproar of taunts and jeers his siblings threw his way.

Damian was not going to take that insult sitting down.

“That’s it, Tsurugi,” he rose from his seat, the scrape of the chair on the hardwood floors hushing the peanut gallery. “You wanted a duel, I’ll give you a duel. A clash of swords seems fitting, don’t you think?” He felt quite satisfied with himself, so much so he was completely ignorant to the whispers of his siblings with their guests. His attention was solely on the red demon.

“While I can’t persuade you both from not doing this,” his father’s tired voice was firm and imposing; he looked like he’s aged a few years since the start of the evening, “I must insist on using only the wooden practice swords you have. No real blades allowed. Am I understood?”

It wasn’t really a question as there was no room for refutation but Damian was grateful his father didn’t try to put a stop to the entire thing anyways. A challenge was issued and Damian was going to see it through.

After Pennyworth cleared the table and set about doing other chores, they made their way to the manor’s gym with the exclusion of his father. A mat was already laid out and he went to retrieve the practice swords. They were fashioned to mimic his katana and the familiar weight was comfortable in his grip. Tsurugi was surveying the wooden blade and assessing the balance of the handle before setting into a comfortable starting stance. They weren’t bound by fencing rules this time and he felt the lack of restrictions to be freeing. Grayson had declared himself ring master and was counting down to start them off. Drake was holding a camera, most likely recording, and Todd was conspiring with Dupain-Cheng and Thomas in the corner. Agreste and Cain were observing like normal people—Damian failed to see them silently exchange some cash— and he ignored them all to focus on the foe before him.

Grayson’s call for ‘go’ set them off like steam engines, their swords crashing into each other in heavy strikes. Using his advantageous size, Damian pushed back and swiped for her legs. She blocked the attack, sword intercepting his, swinging her back leg behind her to kick at his chest. He recoiled at the contact and the pressure of her boots before aiming a broad sweep over head, bringing his arms down in a wide arc. She blocks that as well, but was brought down to a knee, all her focus in holding her blade across the palm of hand. She pushes against his force and rolls under his blade, tucking herself into a ball before uncurling behind him. Her next strike is aimed for his back but Damian is quick on the defensive and knocks her blade away before stepping into her space. His shoulder clips her chin and he takes the opportunity to elbow her below her chest. He swings around to strike her down but she ducks and swipes at his legs. He jumps over the arc of her blade but isn’t prepared for the kick in his chest as he lands.

He steps back a couple paces to get air back in his lungs as Tsurugi gains her own bearings. They’re both breathing heavily and the gym is silent save for Todd’s inappropriate wolf-whistle. Ignoring him, as usual, he focuses back on his opponent. On the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders, her lean but firm arms holding the sword out pointing at him. Her short bob is in disarray and her brown eyes burn into him like molten lava. Her stare is intense and almost freezes him completely in place.

A second ticks by. Then another. The entire room feels like a stifled exhale, cautious not to disturb the fragile atmosphere. The energy is broken by a charge from Tsurugi as she strikes across his chest, colliding with his blade. Their swords are crossed and they both lean into the push, faces mere inches apart as they try to get the upper hand. Neither was budging, willing to submit to the other.

Damian found himself revelling in the intense focus of her gaze. Even growing up in the League, his mentors always held back, not wanting to accidentally kill their master’s heir. His siblings were no better, always underestimating him, never taking his challenges seriously. But Tsurugi? She matched him blow for blow without hesitation. Without fear and without judgement. The lack of threat of death hanging over him made the fight that much more enjoyable. If he were anymore focused on his own expression, he would have found a smile, not a smirk or a half-hearted grimace, but an honest-to-god smile. A grin even.

Tipping the fight in his favour, he aims a kick to Tsurugi’s knee, and turns out of their lock of swords. Feeling emboldened, he takes to taunting his opponent.

“You know, you are a lot better than I thought you would be,” he swings his sword around aimlessly, waiting for her to get up again. “But you’re still no match for me.”

Rather than respond, Tsurugi swipes up at him, both hands on her sword hilt, in a broad arc. Her body follows through with the motion, with her back leg sweeping the floor gently, her back to him by the end. Damian sees the opportunity and lunges to attack her now open back. He’s almost flushed against her with his sword about to press into the curve of her spine except his swing is intercepted by his opponent's block. She had anticipated his move and swung her arms over her head, carrying the blade behind her to protect her. Damian’s blood runs white hot with the shame of falling for her feint. Still held in this position, Tsurugi casts a smirk over her shoulder, head tilted back towards his chest. The position, with the exception of their swords, has them appearing to be in a dance, with his partner—no, opponent— ready to be spun out in a graceful turn.

“Are you sure?” her voice was rough with exertion and tainted with glee, “You seem to have failed to gain any substantial upperhand.” She kicks back into his shin and then steps out of his space, spinning under her arms, keeping her sword against his. Now facing him directly, Damian can see the fire shining in her brown eyes, ablaze with excitement and ferocity.

“Don’t think yourself so high and mighty,” he started to step to his right, trying to prepare for another attack but she matched him in moves and now they were slowly circling each other.

“Ironic coming from you, I’m sure.” Her tone was flat but her eyes glimmered with amusement. Her blade shifted ever so subtly, pointing further down Damian’s body, aimed directly for his stomach. Damian takes a chance and steps into her space, left arm gradually inching towards her sword hilt. Using his longer legs, he sweeps one under her stance, hooking his ankle around hers.

It happens in slow motion. Or at least, it felt like it did. He’s bringing his leg back towards himself, knocking her off center, balancing on an unsteady leg. He’s grabbed her sword hilt and is pushing her arms and the sword above her head while his own sword slides to place against her throat. He pushes further into her space, leaning over her and bending her back, almost chest to chest, nose to nose with his sword in the breath between them. Their precarious position cants them completely off balance and she’s fallen with him on top of her. Her arms are pinned firmly above her now, her grip on her sword long forgotten, and Damian’s weight is balanced on his knees, preserving any dignity he has left. They’re still so close to each other, the weight of his blade gingerly pressing into the lines of her neck. Her head is tilting back, a futile attempt to escape him and once she acknowledges that, Damian can feel the muscles in her arms relax beneath his vice-like grip. They’re staring at each other, and Damian finds himself not wanting to look away.

Oh.

Oh.

In his seven years of living with his father’s family, he never understood how his father could casually welcome thieves and assassins into his bed. How his brothers surrounded themselves with people equally dangerous. How his sister would challenge an opponent she knew she couldn’t beat. How they could all flirt with danger and not even question it. Now he understood. It was a heady rush, like a freefall without certainty of a parachute or a net. It was an addictive type of excitement to come face to face with someone who doesn’t look at him with fear but with equal competition. He could get used to this.

A click of a camera shutter and Pennyworth’s attention-grabbing ‘ahem’ brought him out of his own head. He saw Tsurugi blink herself out of a similar daze and look towards her friends. Finally registering their compromising position, Damian began to extract himself from her. Now standing, and trying to tidy his appearance, he tossed his wooden sword to the side and extended a hand out to the still lying girl.

“I win,” he says, and the taunt falls flat even to his own ears. He clears his throat and tries again. “You are a decent opponent. It was an honor to go against someone of your caliber.”

She accepts his offered hand and as he’s pulling her up, she takes the opportunity to pull him in closer.

“I admit defeat,” her eyes are still intense but softens as she continues speaking, “and there is clearly more I can learn from you. The club is in Gotham for two more weeks for the competition next week. I am willing to have you as my teacher if you accept.”

A pretty pink blush colours her cheeks and Damian can feel his face match hers in intensity. Before he could answer her, her blond friend interrupts them, cutting into their little bubble.

“That means she’s asking you on a date.” His hands are cupping his mouth like a megaphone and he stage whispers for all their captive audience to hear. “Say yes.”

His siblings are eyeing between him and the French teens like they’re spectating an interesting tennis match. Not given the chance to answer, again, Cain replies for him.

“He says yes. Next Friday, after school.” Her reply is curt but the curl of her lips illustrates her delight in the entire situation. His cheeks are even warmer now and he still hasn’t stepped out of Tsurugi’s space and were they always standing this close?

Looking back to Tsurugi he sees that her attention is still on the others and her face is graced with a gentle smile.

“I accept your offer,” her head swivels back to him as he speaks, and there is a slight glimmer to her eyes, hope dancing in pools of warm chocolate. “If your friend was right about your true intentions, then I accept that offer. There is a lot I could learn from you as well.”

“Yes, and I am also available on Friday if your sister is to be believed.” Her hushed voice is drowned out by the uproar of his siblings and he catches a glimpse of Dupain-Cheng jumping in place.

“I can’t believe he actually said yes.” Thomas.

“I can’t believe she’s actually into him,” Drake.

“I had good money on him making a fool of himself, shame.” Todd, who then gets elbowed by Grayson. He ignores them all, staring down at the increasingly embarrassed girl before him.

He goes to speak but a pink blur is knocking Tsurugi on the ground in a heap of limbs. They’re giggling and babbles about double dates filter through so he doesn’t worry too much and then a weight settles on his shoulder, surprising him. Agreste had somehow snuck up on him and was patting him in a false sense of comradery.

“Well that was an interesting turn of events. They grow up so fast,” he fake sniffles, wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes. Damian is not fond of the familiar theatrics. “I agree with your siblings, I didn't think you would agree. Especially with the looks of bloody murder you were giving us during practice today.”

He scoffs and lets the subtle accusation roll off his back. Agreste continues as if he weren’t interrupted.

“Clearly you two flirt the same way. Violently.” He’s cut off from speaking as Tsurugi had hit him with one of the discarded swords from her place on the floor.

“At least I don’t hesitate or dance around my intended target like a fool, like you two,” she was pouting but her voice held traces of humour and inside jokes that had Dupain-Cheng whining like a child and Agreste acting all sheepish.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair but can you blame us?” Agreste went ignored as everyone devolved into laughter at their antics.

Damian chanced a glance at Tsurugi to see her very comfortable with Dupain-Cheng’s weight on top of her, laughing at Agreste’s expense. She must have felt his eyes on her and glance at him shyly, laughter dying to a small smile on her lips.

Damian thought to himself that Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

[flippin-fins]

Take this sinking boat and point it home

Summary: Post-Hawkmoth defeat, Marinette picks up the pieces of Adrien to make sure he knows what it's like to have a real family

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“Do you think he has a family?”

Chat’s words scattered her thoughts, and it took Ladybug a minute to remember where she was. They had just finished patrol, but recently had begun delaying their departures, spending more time on rooftops, enjoying each other’s company.

She turned her head to look at her partner. “Who?”

“Hawkmoth. Do you think he has a family?”

“I mean, I guess. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you think they know? Know he’s doing this? There has to be some kind of reason, right? Some motivation for all of this?” With one hand, Chat motioned to the city around them.

“Maybe they are his motivation, maybe he’s motivated by love.”

“Do you think they love him?”

“Chat, everyone has someone that loves them.”

Chat stilled at her words, and Ladybug held back the question on the tip of her tongue. ‘Don’t you?’

“Yeah, I guess so.” His words came out stilted, stiff, and Ladybug wished she could take her words back.

She never knew what to make of him when he responded like that. It always felt like those reactions came out of nowhere, an invisible minefield she had no right to ask about.

“I don’t think they would know,” Ladybug whispered. “Maybe he thinks what he’s doing is right, but I have to believe if he has other people in his life, they would try to convince him to stop.”

“Sure, maybe.” Chat was still looking out over the city, but his eyes were slightly unfocused, and she knew his mind was still elsewhere. “Why does he even want our miraculous?”

He finally turned to look at her, and Ladybug tried to contain her surprise. He didn’t know?

After a moment, she realized he really didn’t know. “The wish. If you combine the black cat miraculous,” she motioned to his hand, “and the ladybug miraculous,” and motioned to her ears, “you can make a wish. There’s some sort of major consequence though, but I guess he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”

“A wish,” Chat echoed, turning back to look at the lights of the city. “What would you wish for?”

“There’s so many consequences, Chat, I wouldn’t want to wish for anything.”

“But if you could?” There was something in her voice, something that tugged at her.

“If there were no consequences, if I could have a wish, I dunno. I guess I’d wish to not have the weight of the city on us at 14. I think I’d wish for more time to just be a teenager.” Ladybug shrugged. “What about you, Chat? What would you wish for?”

He stays silent, still looking out into the night.

She wants to reach out, to know where his mind is, but maybe he didn’t hear her. Or maybe he’s thinking of the best pun to fit with his wish.

So she sits, and waits.

She almost forgot her question by the time he finally speaks, barely audible over the sounds of the city.

“I think I’d wish for my mom. Wish my family was whole again.”

His words haunt her that night, when sleep can’t come. His wish, and his earlier reaction.

But it was fine, probably just a bad night.

~~~

“I guess he did have a family.”

Ladybug turned to her partner, wide-eyed. She thought back to that evening on the roof a few years ago, when Hawkmoth’s identity was just an idea, not an actual person who was currently being loaded into the back of a police car.

They had retreated to a nearby roof, not ready to face reporters and their questions.

Chat didn’t deserve that. He deserved a moment of peace, of being able to step away from the situation and hopefully take a deep breath.

Last night wasn’t how she’d wanted to find out her partner’s identity, but at the realization of who Hawkmoth was, he had insisted. He’d been right, after all. Finding out who he was while facing off with their biggest enemy would have thrown Ladybug off, easily causing them to be defeated. Snatching the element of surprise from Hawkmoth had been important.

All she wanted to do now was drag him to her home, wrapping him in blankets and making sure he had all the pastries and hot chocolate he wanted, and snuggle in with him as he worked through everything that had happened that evening.

But the police had asked them to stay.

She’d negotiated with them, forcing the police to allow the duo to leave the immediate scene, offering to stay in the nearby area, visible in case they were needed. But there was no way she was letting Chat Noir stay there, no way she was letting Gabriel Agreste glare at his son, running his mouth and traumatizing him further.

Ladybug had expected him to beg for forgiveness, beg for freedom. The vitriol he spit was worse, and Chat’s statue impersonation at her side made her want to flinch at almost everything he said.

She’d never been more thankful to have her parents.

Ladybug had considered destranforming and calling her parents, asking them to pick her and Chat up. She probably should give them a heads up before bringing him home, but Ladybug had a feeling her parents wouldn’t mind. He’d always been told he could have a home there, and she could already picture her parents bringing extra pillows and blankets to her room, expecting someone would be taking in the model.

She should probably call them anyway, just to let them know she was okay.

Chat rested his head on her shoulder, and Ladybug’s hand came up automatically to run her fingers through his hair.

“He doesn’t have to be your family.”

Chat snorted, not moving to look at her. “It seems like it would be pretty difficult for Adrien Agreste to separate from the Gabriel Agreste legacy.”

“Sure, but you can make your own family. Nino and Alya and me,” Ladybug tried to contain her blush, or at least minimize her hesitation. “Even my parents would be happy to give you the family you should have had. They all love you.”

“Do you love me?”

Ladybug sucked in a breath. In all the madness or the evening, she had forgotten her school crush was also the partner she’d started to fall for. Forgotten she hadn’t told him who the other boy had been.

“Come home with me.” She reached out for his hand, squeezing it.

He finally sat up, turning to look at her. The hint of a smile ghosted his features, and it took everything in her to not wrap him in a hug and carry him off the roof.

“You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Letting go of his hand, she flicked his bell. “Then come on, let’s make sure this stray kitty finds a home.”

~~~

Clutching the coffee mug in her hands, Marinette’s eyes were glued to the television.

Images of last night flashed on the screen in front of her, and a video of Gabriel Agreste being loaded back into a police car stayed in the corner on repeat.

She kept an ear on the trapdoor to her room, hoping Adrien would stay asleep. She had taken his phone from him, hiding it so he couldn’t check the internet for mentions of him or his father. Marinette had been hoping to keep him calm, to make sure he knew he was safe, but it hadn’t mattered. He’d been up all night with grief stricken eyes and she’d been there, holding him while he broke into pieces in front of her. He’d finally fallen asleep as the sun started to rise, so with a slight motion to the kwamis, Marinette had slipped out of the room.

Tikki had offered to join her, but Marinette knew she had missed Nooroo and Duusu and waved her off. Tikki and Plagg could come find her if Adrien woke up, if he needed her.

Marinette’s phone buzzed and she barely glanced down before answering.

“You were there.”

Alya’s voice wasn’t questioning, but instead accusatory.

Marinette nodded as she spoke, as if Alya could see her. “Ladybug was there.”

“No one knows where Adrien is. Nino can’t get a hold of him, and you didn’t call Rena or Carapace last night so he’s even more stressed. The news says that Ladybug and Chat Noir took off when no one was paying attention, not answering any questions. You were there and couldn’t be bothered to reach out, to let me know you were okay.”

“We had other things on our mind.”

“Marinette, please,” Alya’s voice, her begging, snapped Marinette out of her transe.

Guilt radiated through her, and Marinette realized she should have called them. The two of them deserved to at least know she and Adrien were okay.

“Are you with him?”

Marinette chewed her nail for a moment. “Are you with Nino?”

“Of course I’m with Nino. We’ve been trying to contact both of you, and it’s easier if we can turn to the other and share whether or not we’ve gotten a hold of either of you.”

“How soon can you both come over?”

Marinette flinched as she heard Alya snap. “Nino, let’s go. We need to get to Marientte’s.”

A muffled voice responded. The only word Marinette caught was ‘Adrien’. She really should have called them last night.

“Alya, you really don’t have to drop everything. I just figured it would be easier to explain in person.”

“It’s too late, we’re already on our way. We’ll be there soon.”

The line clicked before Marinette could respond.

“Marinette?”

Marinette turned to the small voice that called her name.

Tikki floated in the air in front of her.

“Is he awake?” Her eyes flicked to the stairs and she took a step towards her room.

“No no, I just wanted to check on you. Last night was a lot. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Marinette shrugged. “Alya and Nino are on their way, so they can fill in with any extra support for Adrien.”

“But Marinette, I asked how you are doing.”

Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but a black blur cut her off.

“Sugarcube, can you keep an eye on the kitten for a minute? I need a word with your girl.”

Marinette stifled a laugh at Tikki’s face, but she turned and floated upstairs without a retort.

“I’m sorry, Plagg, I don’t have any Camembert. Would Brie be okay for you? At least until I get to a store?”

“We both know that’s not why I’m here.”

Marinette sighed, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash out her mug.

She couldn’t look at him as she spoke. “Do you think he’ll be alright? I should have seen this, should have done more.”

“How would you have seen this? You think I’m not upset? He was stuck in that house! Nooroo and Duusu were right under my nose this whole time!”

Marinette turned around, leaning her hip against the counter. She didn’t know what to say, how to talk to him without wanting to cry about how bad Adrien’s situation had been, about how she hadn’t even noticed.

“Alya and Nino are coming over, so you might have to make yourself scarce for a bit.”

“Am I not good enough to be around your friends?”

She glared at him for a moment. “Well Alya already knows about Tikki, but unless you want to reveal Chat Noir’s identity without his knowledge, maybe we should wait until he’s awake before you harass our friends.”

Plagg huffed at her.

Marinette lifted her hand to her face, barely stopping herself from biting her nails.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it okay.”

“Pigtails, you just have to be there. I don’t think he needs anything else right now. Just friends.”

“Just a friend,” Marinette mumbled.

Plagg opened his mouth, but a knock on the door stopped him.

Marinette started to walk towards the door. “Have Tikki let me know if he wakes up.”

“You don’t want him to see his friends?”

Marinette paused, her hand on the doorknob. “I don’t want to wake him and bring him back to all the pain he felt before he fell asleep.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black blur go through her trapdoor.

Marinette tried to smooth her hair and plant a smile on her face as she opened the door.

Nino’s concerned eyes search her face as Alya launches herself at Marinette.

“I was so scared and you didn’t text me back and my parents wouldn’t let me go out so I couldn’t be there as a reporter or a friend and I had to watch the news but Ladybug and Chat Noir didn’t do any interviews and I was worried you were injured and something had happened and -”

“Would either of you like some tea?”

Marinette wished she wasn’t being smothered by Alya so she could see the reaction Nino had to accompany the noise of alarm he made.

“Nino, meet Tikki. She’s Ladybug’s Kwami.”

Of course Alya would take over introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Nino. Hi, Alya. It’s lovely to see you again.”

Marinette felt one of Alya’s arms let go of her, presumably reaching out to wave at Tikki, or possibly pat the top of her head.

“Marinette, why did you have Ladybug’s Kwami? Did you steal it?”

At Nino’s words, Alya let go of Marinette to turn stare at her boyfriend.

Marinette snagged the opportunity to escape to the kitchen and turn on the kettle.

After a tense few moments, Alya spoke up. “Marinette, will you or should I?”

She tried to hold in a sigh, reaching over to grab a cookie for Tikki. “Go ahead.”

Nino glanced between the two girls, settling on Alya. She waved a hand between Nino and Marinette. “Nino, meet Ladybug. She’s much shorter in person.”

If she’d actually gotten any sleep last night, Marinette would have laughed at the way Nino’s jaw dropped as he rapidly looked between Marinette, Tikki, and Alya. Instead, she settled for a smile.

“No. No way.”

Marinette brushed some hair behind her ear, revealing her earrings. “Hey, Carapace. Nice to see you.”

“Ha ha, very funny. What’s actually happening?”

Marinette waited, letting it sink in. He stared at her earrings, then her hair, and Marinette could see him picturing her with the signature pigtails. It was clear the moment it clicked.

“Ladybug is my friend from school, the best friend to my girlfriend, and she sat behind me in class for years.”

“Yep, yes, and correct.”

Nino rubbed a hand over his face. “But we were 13 when Ladybug and Chat Noir first appeared.”

“Also true.”

The kettle whistled behind her, and Marinette turned to grab three mugs, pausing over a fourth. “Tikki?”

“Still sleeping.”

Focusing on her task, Marinette stopped her mind from wandering to the blond upstairs. She wanted to go up and check on him, but with Plagg and the other Kwamis upstairs, he was safe.

Handing Alya and Nino their mugs, Marientte grabbed hers and sat at the table. She motioned for her friends to sit with her, but Alya had already grabbed Nino and was on her way over. Nino still looked a little shell-shocked, but Alya had her reporter face on.

“Marinette, who is sleeping upstairs?”

“If they wake up and decide to come down, they can tell you themself.”

Alya frowned at her friend, but was ready to move on to the next question. Before she could speak up, Nino looked up from his tea.

“Do you know who Chat Noir is?”

Marinette choked on her drink.

“Of course not, don’t be silly. Right, Marinette?”

She avoided Alya’s eyes. “Actually, yes. He told me a couple of days ago. But I can’t tell you who he is. I’m only telling you who I am because I trust you, because Alya already knew.”

“Oh.” Nino looked back down at his drink. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and Marinette realized the television was still on, still reporting from the scene of the Agreste mansion. “Where is Adrien? He wasn’t involved, was he? Was he hurt?”

Marinette set her drink down. “He’s safe. I checked on him before I left. He had no idea about his father.”

“Of course he didn’t know. I just hope he isn’t being harassed. Has he reached out to you?” Alya reached out to grab Marinette’s wrist. “Was he okay last night? Should we have gone over?”

“I don’t think he wanted any of us to go there. I’m sure he’ll reach out when he’s ready.”

A crash sounded from upstairs and all of them jumped. Marinette and Tikki locked eyes, and Tikki passed through the ceiling as Marinette ran over to the trap door to her room. “I’ll be right back.”

She reached one hand out to open the door, but paused on the last step. “It’s me. I’m coming in, okay?”

She heard a muffled noise, and slowly opened the door just wide enough to squeeze inside, closing it behind her. The pile of blankets was a new addition to the middle of the floor.

Plagg was floating above the pile, pulling at the top of it.

“Adrien? Are you okay?”

The response was muffled, confirming her suspicions. Marinette padded over to the blankets.

“Did you roll off the bed and over the railing?”

The muffling came again.

Marinette looked at Plagg for a translation.

“He decided he wanted to come down the stairs, but was too cold to go without the blankets. Instead of throwing down a layer before moving, you know, like a normal person, he decided to take the stairs while still wrapped up. You can see how well that worked out for him.”

She stifled a giggle. Something told her that Adrien wouldn’t appreciate it.

Finding an edge, Marinette gently pulled on a blanket, revealing messy blond hair. A short moment later, green eyes followed.

She tried to ignore how red and puffy they were.

“Alya and Nino are here. They know I’m here and that I’m Ladybug, but they don’t know who is upstairs. They asked about you, but you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.” She reached out, brushing some hair out of his face.

Adrien blinked slowly at her statements, and Marinette realized she probably should have slowly introduced any of those topics, instead of dropping them all at once.

He started moving his head around, and Marinette realized what Adrien was trying to do. She adjusted the blankets around his face, revealing his mouth.

“Which part of that do you want me to go over first?”

She busys herself with unwrapping him as Adrien decides.

“All of it?”

“You knew Alya knew my identity, and when she saw the news last night, she freaked out that I didn’t text her back. Her and Nino were together trying to get a hold of you and I, and between the news footage and hearing nothing from either of us, I think they freaked out. I invited them over, and,” Marinette grabbed Adrien’s shoulder, making sure he understood. “You are under no obligation to even see them, and I told them you would reach out when you were ready. Thanks to this,” Marinette motioned to the blankets on the floor, “and a misplaced comment by Tikki, they know someone is up here and was sleeping, but I did not tell them who. I didn’t want to say Adrien was here and have Chat Noir show up, or vice versa. As for my identity, Tikki was a little too excited to see Alya and I think she forgot about Nino’s lack of knowledge.”

“I am sorry about that, Marinette,” Tikki floated over.

“I figured he was going to know at some point. He is Carapace.”

Adrien watched them interact, Plagg floating closer to him but not quite settling on his shoulder.

Marinette turned back to her partner. “I told them Adrien was okay, well, okay enough, and that I knew Chat Noir’s identity and was in contact with him. They just wanted to check on you.” She reached out to hold his hand. “I’ll support whatever you want to do.”

“How do you trust me, after everything with-” he stopped, and Marinette squeezed his hand.

“You and me against the world, remember?”

He smiled. “Then let’s go downstairs.”

“Just you and me?” Marinette can’t help her grin.

“I think it might be time for Plagg to finally meet our friends, right?”

She really didn’t mean to knock him over. After all, she was certainly still sore from yesterday, so he probably was too. But his smile was so infectious, his happy, sunshine self so near to the surface, that Marinette couldn’t help but tackle him into a hug.

They froze at a knock on the trapdoor. “Marinette? Are you alright?”

Leave it to the reporter to check in on them.

Standing up, Marinette offered a hand to Adrien, leading him to the door. “Ready?”

“After you, Bug.”

Marinette felt herself blush, but pushed forward.

Maybe she should have offered Alya some warning, as the door opening spooked the reporter enough to stumble back down the stairs.

“Sorry, I just figured we’d come down here instead of having you come up.”

“We?” The hope in Nino’s voice made Marinette want to giggle, but nothing could prepare her for the expression on his face as her companion joined her on the stairs.

“Yeah, ‘we’. Maybe napping the day away isn’t the best choice.”

Alya’s yank on Marinette’s arm was the only reason Nino didn’t knock her over in his haste to hug his friend.

“You’ve been here the whole time? And you,” Nino turned to Marientte for a moment. “You didn’t bother to say a word?”

“I told you he was safe, that he would reach out when he could. It wasn’t my place to speak for him.”

Marinette saw in Alya’s eyes that she was connecting the dots, putting together everything that had been said. She’d always been good at puzzles.

“You’re him.”

Adrien’s head snapped towards the girls, but he forced the smile to stay light on his face. “Of course I’m him. It’s me, Adrien. Did you already forget? Don’t tell me my modeling good looks have given you amnesia.”

Alya looked at Marinette for the answer, but she couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze.

“If it was just Adrien upstairs, you wouldn’t have stopped us from going upstairs.”

“I never stopped you from going upstairs I-”

“You would have told us when we kept asking about him, You would have encouraged Nino to go see him. There was a reason you were vague about who was upstairs. If Tikki hadn’t said anything, would you have even told us?”

“Alya, I -”

“Unless you were worried about what we would find. Or who we might find.” Alya squinted her eyes. “You know his identity and you haven’t stuttered once talking around Adrien.”

“Alya it’s not -”

Alya spun around to look at Adrien. “Tell me, sunshine. Why would Marinette be afraid of what we would find if we went upstairs?”

“Oh she was probably worried about you finding me!”

Marinette and Tikki sighed as Adrien tried to snag Plagg, to hide him, even if it was too late. Nino looked ready to pass out.

Only Alya was smiling. “I was hoping for something more scandalous, but this is fine too. It’s nice to meet you. I take it you’re Chat Noir’s Kwami.”

“Chat Noir’s Kwami?”

Plagg turned around. “Is he always this slow, or is today a special occasion?”

Trying to channel her best Guardian voice, Marinette held back another sigh. “Plagg, don’t be rude. It’s understandable to be overwhelmed by learning the identities of Paris’s two main superheroes, especially when they are your friends from school.”

“But does he have to look so dumbstruck?”

“Plagg!”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck as he looked between Alya and Nino. “Surprise?”

Nino was still wide-eyed, taking everything in, but Alya stepped forward.

Adrien stilled as Alya approached. She looked back at Marinette for a moment. “You should have called us. Rena and Carapace or Alya and Nino. I get you two are a team and self-sacrifice and do it yourself, but we were worried sick.” She pulled Adrien into a hug. “You owe us that much.”

“Alya,” Marinette warned, stepping forward and ready to drag her friend away or bring everyone down the rest of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take my hands off of your man.”

Marinette blushed, but before she could respond Alya was pulling her down the stairs towards the kitchen, Adrien and Nino following.

She didn’t know how it happened, but when there was suddenly pressure in her free hand, Marinette grabbed onto it like a lifeline. They’d come too far, been separated for too long. She understood he needed it as much as she did.

The four friends sat down on Marinette’s couch, as she was thankful her parents had chosen to open the bakery today, even with the craziness on the news.

Marinette didn’t realize she had tucked herself into Adrien’s side until she saw the look on her face. She moved to untangle herself, willing the reporter to put off those questions until Marientte could figure out the answers for herself, but the arm around her tightened and Marinette knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

Tikki and Plagg landed in their lap, sharing a cookie.

“Are we not going to acknowledge this?” Alya motioned between the two of them, snapping Nino’s focus from the two kwami to the duo.

“Your crush on Ladybug makes more sense.”

Marinette felt her eyes widen as Alya whipped her head towards Nino.

“You knew he had a crush on Ladybug?”

“I mean,” Nino motioned towards Marinette and Adrien, “doesn’t everyone know how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug?”

Marinette tried to turn to look at Adrien’s face, but his hold on her side kept her in place. She was pretty sure his face was pinker than usual.

“I just thought he was a big fan. How was I supposed to know he was her partner?” Nino rubbed his hand down his face. “How was I supposed to know both of my friends were out there fighting against Hawkmoth?”

Adrien’s grip slackened as he stiffened, and Marinette rubbed her hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. No one expected you to know. This wasn’t your fault.”

She could feel the couple’s eyes on her, but Marinette focused on the blond. “Adrien, look at me.” She reached out to pull his face, not waiting for him to move. His eyes were distant, and Marinette saw Plagg float to rest in his hair. “None of us blame you. No one should blame you.”

Whispering from the other side of the couch momentarily drew her focus. “Who would have thought that the top two people on my hit list would turn out to be the same person?”

Adrien’s watery eyes finally found her, and Marinette had to resist the urge to drag him back upstairs, to bury him in blankets and kwami hugs.

“He’s my dad,” Adrien whispered.

There was a flutter of motion, and then Alya and Nino were hugging Nino.

“He was your father. I’ll be your dad now.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if the wet laugh was from her or Alya.

“I think once my parents realize who I’ve been keeping upstairs, my dad will fight you for that title, Nino.”

Adrien’s soft crying settled across the room, and the three friends tightened their grip on him.

After a moment, Marientte leaned back to look at him.

“We’re your family, Adrien. We’ll always be your family.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but instead of the empty expression she expected to see, there was something else. Love.

How had she ever looked at Adrien and not seen her partner? How could she have looked at Chat Noir, turned down any of his flirtations? They were one and the same, someone she wanted by her side forever.

Marinette smiled at him, hoping she conveyed every thought running through her head. She leaned forward, burrowing her head into his shoulder.

Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, he would have to face the press, would have to go back to the mansion and release some kind of statement. But today, today he was here in her arms, and she knew that the best place for her to be was by his side, as long as he’d let her.

Partners, friends, family. Whatever he needed, she’d be there.