#thanks to alyce and winter for all the help!!

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: From cleaning up their city, to strengthening their partnership, to untangling their love lives—New York has taught Ladybug and Chat Noir that they can get through anything together.  Well, everything except automatic doors.  (New York special reveal fic)

Word Count:  6722

XXX

Marinette had gotten back from New York three days ago, but it wasn’t until she saw Chat Noir that she really came home.

He’d arrived early to the meeting spot—a rooftop where someone had planted a pot of blue forget-me-nots—and he hummed under his breath while perching at the roof’s edge.

“Little kitty on a roof... all alone without his lady…” 

She thought she’d overcome the stutter in her heart when she heard that tune.  But that was before she’d almost lost her partner again.

“Not alone anymore,” she said, plopping down next to him and bumping his shoulder.

He didn’t bump back.  That was weird.

“Kitty?”  She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his face.  The mask made it difficult to tell, but she was pretty sure his green eyes were rimmed with red.  “Are you alright?”

He shrugged too quickly.  “It’s nothing.  I’m really glad to see you again, LB.”

“Which is why you haven’t looked at me this whole time.”

Finally, he met her eyes, and she gasped.  He’d definitely been crying.  A lot.  What had… what had happened?  Was it just seeing the city for the first time since they’d been back?  Mayor Bourgeois had done a surprisingly good job of organizing the cleanup, but there was still a long way to go.  That was the reason they’d come out on patrol tonight, so surely he’d expected the damage.

Could he still be upset about everything that had happened between them?  No.  He knew she’d forgiven him.

Still, she squeezed his hand just in case.

“Chat.  You know you can always tell me the truth.”

His eyes went wide, and then fresh tears welled in them.

“I—right.  I promised I’d never hide the truth from you again.”  He wiped his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “I’ve just been stupid.  Even more stupid, if that’s possible.”

“You’re not stupid,” she said.  Stupidly.  She didn’t know what would help, but surely she could come up with something more comforting than that.  “You’re the brave, amazing, irreplaceable Chat Noir.”

He snorted.  “My girlfriend thinks I’m replaceable.”

The world screeched to a halt.  The moon could’ve fallen from the sky, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“You have a girlfriend?”

Chat Noir winced.  Oops.  She probably shouldn’t have shouted right by his ear.

“I had a girlfriend.  For almost a month.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

His brow scrunched under his mask.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to make you jealous.  And… I didn’t tell anyone, actually.  It kind of had to be secret in case my father…” He shook his head.  “Sorry.  I don’t want to get too close to my identity.  Which is another reason I didn’t tell you.”

Of course.  There was no good reason for him to tell her.

She still felt like she should’ve known.

“I’m sorry.  You had every right to keep your personal life private.”  She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.  “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend, too.  She clearly doesn’t know who she’s missing out on.”

He looked up from where he’d been staring at their hands.  “I—uh-um-hhhh-yeah.”

She made a noise somewhere between an eep and a cough, jerking her hand back so quickly she almost fell backwards.

“I—I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you—no!  Um, you’re a catch?”  Oh, that was even worse!  What was wrong with her?  “You—you know what I mean!”  

His head tilted.  “I, um. Do I?”

She dropped her head in her hands.  She didn’t even know what she meant.  She was still in love with Adrien.  The last thing she wanted to do was give Chat false hope.

“Sorry,” she groaned.  “Lately I can’t get two words out without making a mess of things.”

“Join the club.”  He snorted.

“I might not be much help, but… do you want to talk about it?”

“You—you’d let me?”

“You did say you weren’t going to hide things from me anymore.”  She smiled, bumping his shoulder.

This time, he bumped her back.  “I guess I did.”

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts.  The sounds of traffic drifted up from below to fill the gap.  Funny how even the traffic felt more like home in Paris.

“It was my fault, as usual,” he murmured.  “I didn’t tell her I was leaving Paris, either.”

“You didn’t?”  It made sense that he wouldn’t want to hurt his partner, but why would he hide from someone in his civilian life?

“Like I said.  Stupid.”  He shook his head.

“Not stupid enough to break up with you over.”  She frowned.  “Not if she really loved you.”

That probably wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, either.  She hoped Chat’s girlfriend loved him.  He’d always been so full of love, it was difficult to imagine him with someone who wouldn’t return it.

“It… wasn’t just that.”  He took a deep breath.  “Promise you won’t hate me?”

That question didn’t reassure her, but she still knew her answer.

“You’re my best friend, kitty.  I could never hate you.”

The tension drained from his shoulders.

“Right.  I should know that by now.  It’s just hard to remember, when I’m so scared and stupid and—I think I might have accidentally cheated on her.”

Marinette blinked.  Chat?  Cheating?  The boy who would rather turn Marinette down in front of her Marichat-shipping papa than hide his feelings for Ladybug?

“What did you do?”  

His ears drooped.  He looked so limp without the over-the-top confidence that normally filled him. 

“I danced with another girl.  And hugged her a lot.  I thought it was as friends but then my other friend posted some pictures of us to Instagram, because she didn’t know that I was dating K—my girlfriend, and it looked way worse than it was and my girlfriend thinks I’m in love with this other girl and I… the worst and best thing is she might be right.”

Wow.  That was.  There was a lot to unpack there.

“You’re… in love with… two people?”  Neither of which are me?

No.  Bad Marinette.  This wasn’t about her; this was about Chat Noir.  Besides, she wanted him to move on!

“I don’t know.  All I know is that I never wanted to hurt either of them, and I feel awful.”

...Was this about her?  The sentiment definitely hit too close to home.  

“It stinks, doesn’t it.” She sighed.

“More than Plagg’s cheese.”

That got a smile out of her.  “I wish I knew how to help, but the truth is, I’ve never had any luck with love either.”

Chat’s brow furrowed.  “But what about the boy you…?”

Her throat clogged.  Memories flashed through her mind—her and Adrien dancing in the sky, tumbling through doorways, accidental touches and soft smiles and words she’d said too late. 

“This isn’t about me,” she said, banishing those thoughts.“We’re working on your love life tonight.”

Unraveling hers would probably require an intervention from Bunnyx.  Or a Lucky Charm.  Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Because Tikki would kill me, probably.

“I don’t think there’s much to work on,” he muttered.  “I blew it with my girlfriend.  And what if I do try to ask out the other girl, but I just make the same mistakes again?”

Marinette smiled and placed her hand over his arm.  “You always learn from your mistakes, kitty.  And you’re always thinking of other people first.  If you just learn how to be honest with everyone—including yourself—I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”  

Wow.  Three whole coherent sentences.  That was miraculous.

“Heh.  And you said you didn’t have any love advice.”

“Well… I guess I can give it, but I can’t take it.”  She grimaced.  If only she’d been honest with Adrien…

But it wasn’t over.  She knew how much he meant to her, and she knew what she stood to lose.  Somehow, she’d find a way to tell him.

He bumped her shoulder.  “Come on, bug.  Spill the tea.”

She blinked before bursting out laughing.  “Spill the tea?”

“What?  That’s what you say when you want your friends to tell you some juicy secrets, right?”

“Ew.  Please never call my secrets juicy.  They’re more like… tangled up yarn, so knotted even I barely know what’s happening anymore.”

He winked.  “I’m a cat.  Playing with yarn is what I do best.”

She bit her lip.  He’d opened up to her.  By her own logic—that of no unnecessary secrets—she should return the favor.  But could she really do that to him, knowing how long he’d pined after her?

It doesn’t matter.  He’s in love with someone else now.  Maybe even two someone elses.

The thought was still so bizarre, she could hardly comprehend it.  Clearly he’d been serious about the yellow rose.  He’d moved on, and she… well, she was still where she’d started.  Chasing after Adrien, falling farther and farther behind.

“Maybe another night,” she said.  A coward’s retreat.

He gave her a long look before nodding.  “Alright.”

She let out a breath of relief.  Another night.  He was an outside perspective.  She would tell him later, if only because he might give clearer advice.

She stood and dusted off her legs, even though there was no dirt there.

“Vacation’s over.  We’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

XXX

“Hey.  It’s okay.”  She squeezed Chat’s hand when he paused in front of their statue.  Or, well, what was left of it.  Senti-Robostus had snapped the bronze Ladybug off, then tossed her into the front of a nearby convenience store.  The statue of Chat Noir looked lonely without her perched on top.

“This isn’t one we can fix, is it.”  His voice was sandpaper-rough.

“No.  I don’t think so,” she admitted.  “But it’s okay.  I never really liked that statue anyway.”  

It always reminded her of Copycat, who had turned out to be a total creep.  The Ladyblog had had to ban Theo’s accounts from the discussion boards too many times for comfort.

“...We should get moving again, then,” Chat said, but neither of them did.  They remained standing in place, still linked by their hands.

They’d been shifting rubble for hours, using their enhanced strength and even their powers.  Each time Marinette fed Tikki and transformed, she felt more exhausted than the last.  But Chat had to feel even worse.  His Cataclysm was the most useful for clearing chunks of broken walls, while her Lucky Charm was less reliable when not facing a concrete enemy.  The one score had been a bag of cement mix to fill in a busted sidewalk.

“We can’t fix everything in one night,” she said.  “We can patrol again tomorrow.  Or maybe the night after.”  She had a feeling she’d be too sore to move in the morning, enhanced strength or not.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered.  “It’s not your fault that everything’s broken.”

She stared at him, stunned.  “Chat.  This is just as much my fault as it is yours.”

“But—”

“No buts.”  She pressed a finger to his lips.  “Paris is our city.  Not yours.  Not mine.  Ours.”

He didn’t argue, but his gaze still remained fixed on the ground.

“I could have stayed.  I could have downloaded an akuma alert app.  There are so many things I could’ve done differently, it could eat me alive,” she admitted, her voice trembling.  “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It’s so hard,” he whispered.

She dropped her hand from his lips.  “I know.  But we’ll get through it together.”

He was silent for a moment before nodding.  “You’re right.  You and me against the world… or in this case, you and me against a bunch of crushed buildings.”

She smiled.  It might not be a glamorous part of the job, but they would do their part to make it up to their city.

She raised her fist, and he bumped her knuckles gently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free for next patrol,” he said, a little more life returning to his voice.  “Probably the day after tomorrow.  My family’s been on edge lately, with… well, you know.”

He nodded towards the broken statue.

“Right.  I’ll keep an eye on Plagg, then.”

Chat chuckled.  “Plagg” was what she’d named the little cat toy that he had the remote for.

This time, she looked forward to hearing the toy’s tiny mew.

XXX

It turned out to be three days before they could meet for patrol again.

“Soooo.”  Chat walked backwards in front of her, grinning in a way that was somehow both obnoxious and adorable.  “It’s another night.”

Oh.  She should’ve known he wouldn’t let that go so easily, especially now that he seemed to be in a better mood.  Had he asked out the other girl he liked?  Or did he patch things up with his girlfriend?  Or maybe he did neither, and he just knew how to move on.

“Technically, it’s not night yet.”  She pointed to the sun that sat low over the skyline.  “Also, there’s a—”

He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, then toppled backwards against a No Parking sign.  The metal clanged like a gong where his head hit it.

“—pole behind you.”  She giggled.  

He pouted, rubbing the back of his head.  “No Parking?  Why would anyone even try to park here?”

They’d arrived at the worst scene of damage: in front of the Eiffel Tower.  There wasn’t even a road left to park on.  Most of the chasm had been filled in by now, but there were construction crews repairing the pipes and electrical wiring that had been uprooted.  

Of course, the workers had gone home for the evening already.  Marinette and Chat would have to be careful not to get in the way of their unfinished work.  Luckily, there was still plenty of rubble to move, and they’d come prepared with their powerups tonight.

“I’ve got two sets of ears, my lady.  That makes me twice as amazing of a listener.”  He swiveled the leather ears on top of his hair.  When had he learned how to control that?

“Why don’t you save the interrogation for after patrol?”

“It’s not an interrogation!  You accepted my yellow rose, which means we are friends for time and all eternity.  And friends can ask each other about important things in their lives.  Like their crushes.”

“I regret ever bringing that up.”  She pulled the purple macaron from her yo-yo and tossed it into her mouth.  At least she couldn’t say anything incriminating while she was chewing.

The power shocked over her, leaving her magenta space suit in its wake.  A grin tugged at her lips.  She’d never get tired of that.

“It can’t be that bad.”  Chat unzipped a pocket and dug out a purple slice of camembert.  He made a face before chewing it.  “Not as bad as this nasty cheese, anyway.”

He transformed too, plasma-like wings sprouting from his back.

“You know, I can make you the powerup macarons, too.  That way you only have to use the cheese if you’re giving it to Plagg.”

“Wait, really?”  His eyes widened.  “Why didn’t you say that weeks ago?”

“Because it’s too fun to watch you make that face.”  She smirked and flicked his glowing bell.  “But I’m willing to pass up on that in exchange for you leaving my love life alone.”

He sighed.  “If that’s really what you want.”

He looked surprisingly dejected.  Was it just because she was keeping secrets?

“I’m surprised you want to know about… Him,” she said quietly.  “I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, my lady.  I haven’t figured out exactly what I feel for my friend yet, but your advice has helped me start.  I just want to help you in return.”

He smiled behind his helmet.  He meant it.  Somehow, despite all the times she’d turned him down, he just wanted her to feel better.

“Alright,” she relented.

“I swear, I—wait, what?”

“I said alright.”  She chuckled.  “Though I’m a little curious how you planned to convince me.”

He blushed.  “I was going to swear on my honor as your friend that I would take your not-juicy secrets to my grave.”

“Thanks for the thought.  Now come help me with this chunk of cement, and I’ll ‘spill the tea.’”

XXX

It was surprisingly hard not to spill too much tea.  As they flew pieces of rubble out to space, she told him everything she could without jeopardizing her identity.  A few unspecific details, vague confession plans, even that there was another boy in love with her.  Though that seemed less relevant now that she realized she couldn’t quench her feelings for Adrien.

“Wow.  Can you imagine being dense enough not to realize Ladybug is in love with you?”  He sighed wistfully.  Maybe he hadn’t completely given up on her then.

“He’s not dense.”  She grunted as she shoved the chunk of road with her shoulder, finally sending it floating off out of the atmosphere.  “He’s sheltered.  And I don’t always send the clearest signals.”

“I guess helping set him up with a different girl would be a mixed message.”  He winced.  Without giving names, she’d explained the whole double-date fiasco.  He’d been polite enough to stifle his laughter.

“I told you my love life was tangled.  I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but thanks for listening anyway.”

She adjusted her wings, slowing the flare from her jet pack.

“Wait.”  He grabbed her hand before she could begin her descent towards earth. 

She stopped, barely daring to breathe.  Had he changed his mind?  Did he still want to be a thread in her knotted love life after all?

“You told me to be honest with myself,” he continued, his voice soft but sure.  “It sounds like you’ve already done that—so be honest with him, too.”

Oh.  She grimaced.  Of course he’d use her own advice against her.  

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know.  But if you never tell him how you feel, you’re not giving him the chance to swoon at how amazing you are.”

He mimed falling backwards, literally head over heels.  He turned a full 360 degrees in midair before grinning back at her.

“You’re such a dork.”  She shook her head fondly.  “You’re right, though.  That’s what everyone else has told me too.  I can’t keep backing down, not if I want anything to change between us.”

Despite imagining a thousand scenarios where they were married with three kids, Marinette found herself unable to picture herself actually asking Adrien out.  It felt as far away as an alternate universe.

“I can help you out, if you want,” he said cheerily.  “Just put your communicator in your ear, and I’ll feed you all the best pickup lines in real time.”

She laughed.  “Thanks, but I think my awkward stuttering will still be better than that.”

“You’re right.  You should give yourself some credit.  You did call me a catch, after all.”  He winked.

“Chat!”  She punched his arm.  “I was just trying to cheer you up!”

“Uh-huh.  Suuure.”

He was just messing with her.  He wouldn’t be trying to help her with Adrien if he still had a crush on her, would he?  Even after all this time, it was still difficult to tell when he was actually flirting, and when he was just engaging in friendly banter.

...When she thought of it that way, it was less surprising that his ex-girlfriend had misjudged his actions too.

“What about you?”  She asked as they floated back towards earth.  “Do you have any updates on your love situation?”

“Sort of.”  He sighed.  “My girlfriend is clear about her feelings.  She’s given me too many second chances already, and my uncertainty has hurt her.  I can’t expect her to keep waiting while I try to figure out what I want.”

“That’s fair.”  Marinette nodded.  “I’m glad she can be so honest with you, even if it hurts.  She must trust you a lot.”

If only she could have that kind of trust in Adrien.  She… she could, couldn’t she?  Their friendship wouldn’t be destroyed after one tiny declaration of love.  Not after everything he’d said about her in New York.

Right?

“She’s never been afraid to speak her mind.  It’s one thing I really admire about her.”  Chat smiled wistfully.  “I hope that she finds someone who’s better to her than I was.”

“Chat…”

“No, my lady.  She deserves someone who’s as decisive as she is.  Someone who can love her the way she loved me.”

That sounded almost familiar.  Hadn’t Marinette had that same thought about Chat Noir?

“Yeah,” she murmured.  “Yeah, I guess she does.”

XXX

“What’s on the agenda today?”  Chat asked brightly when he arrived at their rooftop.  “Restoring the Arc de Triumph?  Planting more grass in the park?”

“No.”  Marinette fidgeted with her hands.  She’d rehearsed how to ask this a thousand times in the past few days, but she still felt stupid.  “I actually, er… I wanted to take you up on that offer.”

His ears perked up.  “You’re going to let me cut your hair?”

“No, not that offer.”  She smacked her forehead.  She’d forgotten he’d mentioned that when she’d complained about how her pigtails stuck out of her space helmet.  “The one you said?  About the communicators, and helping me, with um, Him…?”

Chat’s jaw dropped.  It would have made a great photo, if she’d gotten out her bugphone in time.

“You’re actually going to use my pickup lines?”

“No!  Those are still awful.”  Except the one about her being the lady of his dreams, but he didn’t need to know how soft that had made her.  “In fact, I don’t actually want us to use our communicators at all.”

He blinked.  “So, you want to take me up on my offer, but you don’t want me to do a single thing I offered.  Makes perfect sense.”

“Ugh.  Sorry, I’m so bad at this.”  She should just pretend she was explaining a plan to Alya.  Or maybe that she was coming up with a solution to her Lucky Charm.  That was never so awkward, right?  

“I want you to use this,” she clarified, pulling the toy cat out of her yo-yo.  “I always chicken out before I tell him how I feel.  I was thinking, if I felt like you were there… I might be a little braver.”

He still looked stunned, but a smile slowly crept across his face.

“So I can be your wingman?”

“...Sort of, I guess?  All you need to do is push the button when I inevitably start to panic.” 

His head tilted.  “But how will I know when you’re trying to talk to him?  You need a Plagg, too.”

“You’re one step ahead, kitty.  I was thinking we could go pick one up before patrol.  Since you’ll be keeping it, you should get to choose what kind of buzzer you want.”

He beamed at that.  “Brilliant as usual, my lady.”

Whew.  She’d worried he would think it was stupid.

“Come on.”  She unhooked her yo-yo from her waist.  “The store I bought Plagg at was set to reopen today.  If we’re quick, we can get there before they close for the night.”

He kept pace with her as they swung and leapt towards the west side of the city.  The novelty shop had been in the path of destruction, but by now most of the buildings were functional again.  

The repairs had restored Chat Noir’s good humor, too.  Either that or he’d sorted out his own romances.  Curious as she was, she found herself too nervous to ask.

I’m asking out Adrien.  It doesn’t matter if Chat Noir gets a girlfriend.  Him having a girlfriend hadn’t changed things between them before, after all.  He’d always be her partner.  Always.

She dropped down in front of the store— 

—and felt her soul leave her body.

“Nooooo,” she groaned, gaping at the brand new, shiny, automatic doors.

Chat Noir landed beside her and strapped his staff to his back.

“What’s wrong, my lady?  Are they all out of—” He blinked at the doors, too.  “Oh.”

Oh?  Was her fear of automatic doors that obvious?  Okay, fear was a strong word, but there was no way she could get into the store with her dignity intact.  She’d embarrassed herself in front of Chat plenty of times, but it was still light out, and too many civilians were on the street.

“I, just, uh—feel a draft coming out of this store! Maybe another place sells the same kind of toys?”  She grinned uncomfortably.  

It wasn’t likely.  They were marketed towards people in long-distance relationships. She’d been lucky to notice the beeper toys when she was looking for design inspirations in this out-of-the-way shop.

“Maybe.  Do you know where?  Most stores will be closing pretty soon.”

She sighed.  That had been such a flimsy excuse, she was surprised he’d even bought it.  

“No, it’s fine.  You just—might want to go in without me.”  She tapped her fingers together.  “They, um, have some toy spiders in there that are reeeeeally scary.”

“Oh, no!”  He replied too dramatically.  “I’m, uh, afraid of spiders too!”

“...Are you making fun of me?”

He grinned nervously.  “Why would you think that?”

“Because I know you’re not afraid of spiders.  You picked one up and moved it the other day because you didn’t want to kill it.”  It had been really cute, even if she’d originally screamed for him to squish it.

“Crud, I forgot about that,” he said under his breath.

They were drawing stares by now, standing in the glow of the shop’s windows without stepping inside.  One little kid waved at them, and Chat waved back.

“It doesn’t matter.”  She shook her head.  “We’re going in this shop, and we’re getting you a beeper toy, and we’re not going to be stopped by some stupid automatic doors.”

“Automatic—wait, you can’t get through automatic doors either?”  

She didn’t answer.  She was busy slamming into the glass.

“Ow,” she muttered with her nose squished against the door.  Which still.  Didn’t.  Open.

Behind her, Chat Noir started to laugh.

“Shut up,” she said, but it probably didn’t have much effect when muffled by the glass.

“Sorry, sorry!”  He rushed to help her as she peeled herself off.  “It’s just, this happens all the time to me and my good friend.  I thought I was going to be the one smushed like a bug on a windshield.”

“There’s only one bug here,” she said, brushing off the front of her suit.  “And she’s going to get through those stupid doors if it’s the last thing she does.”

“My lady—”

Frustrated, she banged her fists against the glass— 

—and shattered it into a million pieces.

Sirens blared.  She yelped, jumping back towards Chat.  

This was it.  Her life was over.  She was going to go to jail and lose her miraculous all because she’d used super-strength on a stupid door!

“Uh-oh.”  Chat gulped.

“M-miraculous ladybug!”  She yelled on reflex, though she didn’t have a Lucky Charm.  Could a Lucky Charm even fix this?  A villain hadn’t done the damage at all, unless she counted as a villain, because she’d just committed vandalism, and oh no the owner was coming towards them and— 

“Ladybug!  Chat Noir!”  The man with the white mustache looked more concerned than angry.  That was… that was good, right?  “Did an akuma come through here?  Do I need to evacuate?  There’s no one else in the store right now.  I don’t think anyone realized I’ve reopened.”

She blinked.  Would it be alright to lie, just this once?  To avoid being arrested, losing her miraculous, and letting Paris fall to Hawkmoth?

“No, no, there’s nothing to worry about,” Chat answered for her, holding up his hands.  

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper pressed a button on the wall, turning off the alarm.  If only her pounding heart could be quieted so easily.

“It was an accident,” Chat continued.  “It’s my fault.”

...Wait, what?

“I was trying to hold open the door for my lady, as all good gentlecats do.  But my powers of destruction and automatic doors don’t get along.”  He smiled ruefully, then produced a wad of euros from his pocket.  The shopkeeper looked as shocked as Marinette was. “I hope this will be enough to cover the damage.  And I’m very sorry.  You have a lovely shop.”

The shopkeeper’s glasses slid down his nose.  He pushed them back up, still not moving to accept the money.  “Chat Noir... this is far too much.”

“Consider it a tip.”  He winked.

A tip of… she couldn’t count every bill in his palm, but she swore that was at least three hundred euros. Where did he get that kind of money?  Did he have some kind of superhero donation drive she didn’t know about?

“Please, at least buy something,” the owner insisted.  “If there’s no akuma, then I assume you were coming to make a purchase?  Or was it a return?  Was the item you purchased not to your liking, Ladybug?”

“N-no, it was perfect!”  She said quickly.  Her heart still hadn’t stopped pounding.  He remembered her.  What was his name again?  She should be better at remembering citizens’ names.  “I—we—um, wanted another one, actually.”

“A matched set.”  Chat grinned.  “Would that be alright?”

“Of course.”  He looked relieved.  “Right this way.”

Chat stepped through the broken door frame—which opened just in time to trip him.  Marinette tried to catch him by his tail, but his weight dragged her down too.  They both ended up sprawled among the broken glass.

“Oww…” He groaned against the tile floor.

She picked a shard out of her cheek.  “Why does this keep happening to me?”  

The shopkeeper blinked down at them.  “On second thought, I’ll bring my options out to you.”

That was probably for the best.  While he left, she and Chat untangled their limbs and helped each other up.

“Sorry.”  He grimaced.  “I didn’t mean for my bad luck to rub off on you.”

“Bad luck?”  She tried to brush some glass out of her suit, but it just ended up sticking in her hand.  “If anyone’s unlucky, it’s me.  This kind of thing happens to me all the time.”

“My lady, you haven’t been this clumsy since the day we met.  And I know for a fact that automatic doors hate me.”

“They hate me more.  I couldn’t get through them once in New York.”

“Me either.”

She blinked up at him.  Glass shards were still scattered in his hair, reflecting the shop’s bright lights.  Yes, she could picture him being this unlucky—but could they really both be unlucky in the same exact way?

“I fell in a tangled mess with my crush, and then the doors kept smacking into us.  I’m pretty sure my ribs are still bruised from it.”  There was no way his luck was worse than that.

Pink flushed across his cheeks.  “Uh… me too?”

She snorted.  “It’s not a competition, Chat.  You don’t have to make up stuff to prove you have worse luck than me.”

“I’m not making anything up.”  He took a step forward and brushed a piece of glass from her bangs.  “Did you say that happened to you and… and your crush?”

His voice came out as a squeak.  But—if he was being serious— 

How many French kids had been in New York last week?  And more importantly, how many had been repeatedly squished between automatic doors? 

No.  There’s no way.  She was the girl who couldn’t even get through automatic doors—she was not this lucky.

“No, you couldn’t be her.”  His face fell.  “She wouldn’t even sit next to me on the plane.  There’s no way she has a crush on me.” 

Her mouth hung open.

“Adrien?”  Her shout was tinged with panic.  She was lucky that the street had cleared out, probably because the citizens thought their heroes were investigating an akuma. 

His wide eyes snapped back to hers.  

“M-Marinette?”

“Oh my gosh.  You’re—you’re really Adrien.  Adrien Agreste.”  The love of her life.  Who couldn’t even believe she liked him!

She wanted to shatter like the automatic door.  Maybe then she could avoid the horrible, soul-crushing embarrassment of admitting her feelings after committing accidental vandalism.

“And that’s… okay?”  His voice was barely a whisper.

“Okay?” Her grin must have looked manic, which probably didn’t reassure him.  She tried to force a normal expression.

...What was normal again?

He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck—only to grimace and pull out another glass shard.  

“Sorry.  I—you didn’t want to know, and—” His expression turned to horror.  “Do I have to give up my miraculous now?”  

“What?  No!”  She clasped her hands over his before he could even think of removing his ring.  “Adrien—you’re the only Chat Noir for me.  I’m thrilled it’s you.”

“Really?”  His ears perked up.  “But I thought… I’m confused.  You said you were stuck in the automatic doors with your crush… but that was…?”

She smiled as tears pricked her eyes. 

“You.”  

After all this time, it was him.  Adrien was her partner.  

And she could trust her partner.

She rested her hand on his cheek, careful not to press any pieces of glass deeper into his skin.  “It’s always been you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, filling with water that spilled over onto his mask.

“Even when I thought I was moving on from you, I guess I was falling right back.”  He chuckled and wiped his eyes.  Then he rested his hand over hers.  His ring was a spot of cold against her fingers.

“This would only happen to us.”  She laughed too.  “And here I wanted your help to confess to, well, you.”

“That would’ve been awkward.”  He grinned.  “If we didn’t realize each others’ identities now, we would’ve then.”

She snorted.  “I wouldn’t give us that much credit.  We’ve both been stupider than that before.”

“Fair enough.  All this time, Ladybug was in love with me!”  

“You do realize that means you called yourself dense, right?”

He smacked his forehead, then winced.  “Ow.  I’d like to contest that, but I think I just proved it.”

She held back a laugh.  “As long as you don’t tease me for taking two years to confess to you, I’ll call it even.”

“Two years?”  He blinked.  “You’ve had a crush on me for that long?”

She shrugged sheepishly.  “I did say it’s always been you.”

His expression melted into something so soft, she could hardly stand it.  So it was a relief when he pulled her into an even softer—if glass-filled—hug.

“It was you, too.  Marinette you,” he murmured by her ear.  “It took me too long to realize it, but I always knew there was something special about you.”

Her heart soared at that, even higher than when they’d been dancing in the sky.  It all made sense now.  Alya had posted those photos on Instagram.  Neither of them had known Adrien had a girlfriend—Kagami, probably.  Hopefully she wouldn’t end her friendship with Marinette over this.  They were supposed to have their weekly orange juice tomorrow; Marinette would make sure to be honest with her, too.

But right now, that could wait.  All she wanted to do was feel the warmth of Adrien’s arms—Chat Noir’s arms.

“It was Chat Noir you, too,” she admitted.  “I didn’t want to let you go.  I think I took your love for granted, even when I was in love with ‘Adrien.’”

She felt his arms tighten when she said love.

“Considering you were torn between me and me, I think I can forgive that.”  He chuckled.  “Actually, I could do more than forgive you.  I could kiss you right now.”

Tingles shot through her.  Was she ready for that?  She’d hardly been able to imagine this moment—and she’d definitely never imagined it like this.  Covered in glass, Chat’s claws gently cupping her shoulderblade.

Somehow, it still blew all of her fantasies out of the water.   

“I could let you,” she softly replied.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.  “Really?  I mean… I can still hardly believe this is happening.  I can still hardly believe you’re Marinette.”

She frowned.  “Why?  Because I’m so clumsy?”

“No, because you’re so—” he waved a hand, searching for the word.  “Perfect isn’t the right word.  You’re endearing, and smart, and brave enough to stand up to my father.  You can crush me at video games, and you can forgive me even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Adrien—”

“I left you.”  

In that moment, something shifted in her mind.  She knew he was Adrien, but finally, she could hear it in his voice.

“I left you twice.  As Adrien and as Chat Noir.  How can you still want me?”

She took his face in both hands.  Never again, not for one second, would she let this boy feel like he wasn’t wanted.

“How could I not want you, Adrien?”

He broke, the tears flowing freely.  They glimmered off the bits of glass still stuck to his face.  She wished she could clear both of those away, that she could stop him from hurting.

“See?  This is why I can hardly believe it.  I’m not supposed to be this lucky.”

“Me either.  But I’m tired of worrying about what we’re supposed to be.”  She smiled.  “I love you, kitty.  And if you plan on collecting that kiss—”

He did.  Somehow he was both clumsy and careful, probably because he was dodging the bits of glass still stuck to her face. Not that she minded.  It was him, and it was her—Adrien and Marinette, Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Though it should’ve been the last thing on her mind, she couldn't help thinking that both of Alya’s ships had sailed tonight.

She was just about to deepen this kiss when Adrien pulled back.

“What?”  she asked.  Had she been that bad of a kisser?

But no, he was looking at the shopkeeper.  Who had his arms full of animal toys, and a face red enough to blend in with her suit.

“Oh—ah—sorry to interrupt.”  He cleared his throat.  “Did you still want…?”  

Her face flushed too.  She didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed after breaking the man’s doors, but she hadn’t thought it was possible to kiss Adrien without spontaneously combusting, either.

“I don’t suppose we need one now, do we?”  She glanced at Adrien sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want one.”  He inspected the boxes in the man’s arms.

“If afraid we’re out of Ladybug toys.  They’re our hottest selling item right now.  I even looked in the back to be sure none were hiding there.”

Adrien grinned, and she remembered why she never would’ve guessed his identity.  That toothy smile was all Chat.

“That’s okay.  I know the next best thing.”

XXX

“I hope you know that I’m never going to press the button,” Marinette said when they returned to their rooftop.

“What?  And I thought you loved me.”  Adrien put a hand over his chest in dramatic offense.

“You obviously don’t love me if you thought the best toy to represent me was a cow.”

“Cows are so cute though!”  He held up the black-and-white cow beeper toy, which he’d already named Stompp.  “And she has spots, just like you!”

Cows might not be cute, but Adrien certainly was.  And he knew she couldn’t resist his pleading kitty eyes.

She sighed and pressed the button.

“Moo!” Chat mimicked the toy.  “See?  Moo and mew!  They even sound alike.  What noise would a ladybug have made, anyway?”

“It would probably just call you a dork.”  She smirked.

“Or it might tell me it loves me.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or,” she took his hand, “you could just be happy with your real girlfriend telling you she loves you.”

His smile was soft and warm, enfolding her like a blanket.

“I think I can live with that.”

[nuka-nuke]

| Edsel Euler |

Name: Edsel Jack Lincoln Euler

Nickname:  Red

Age: 20

Birthday: December 13th, 2082

Height: 5’10

Weight: 173lbs

Specials: Str  3 - Per 10 - End 8  - Cha 1  - Int  8 - Agi  12 - Luck - 3

Eyes: Hazel gray

Hair: Vibrant ginger, always kept a little long (like his father), and sometimes pulled up into a ponytail.

Body type: He likes to run and climb a lot, so he has toned legs and arms. Over all not particularly strong, kind of scrawny compared to his brother. Still says he is stronger than Elijah. Actually isn’t.

References: Here

Status Pre-War: Not born yet.

Status Currently: Causing chaos and explosions in Appalachia and giving his brother a life long headache.

Relationship Status: Taken

Spouse(s)/Partners: Lena Riggs

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Male

Ethnicity: Greek/American

Family: Red’s father is Ford Euler, who is the brother of Jack Euler. Ford is mostly ghoulified,  quiet, mild tempered and has severe anxiety. He barely ever leaves their home and if he does, Red’s Aunt Jolene has to come with him. Ford used to be slightly more adventurous before the war, but after the “loss" of his best friend and brother, Jack, and the death of his wife Alyce, his disability became crippling and he can’t do much without falling into a panic.

Red’s mother, Alcyoneus, was a psychiatrist before the war who became a Responder afterwards. She came upon the Euler homestead while searching for survivors and for some reason was immediately smitten with Ford (who was so shy he could barely formulate a sentence when around her). She ended up staying and eventually married him, but died from complications of child birth shortly after having the twins.

His Aunt Jolene and her wife Emma also live with them, along with her daughter Lorna May. Lorna May is Red’s best friend and partner in crime since he was born. They both get into a lot of reckless mischief together and Red has been trying to beat her in a fight for as long as he was able to swing a punch. Lorna May has always won (and broken his nose a couple times), but he still tries.

His twin brother is Elijah Euler. Elijah is Red’s complete opposite. Where Red is full of emotions that are all on the surface, Elijah keeps his locked up deep inside and very rarely shows them. He comes off harsh and aggressive, but Red loves him excessively and smothers him in affection (much to Eli’s chagrin). Despite that, Eli is extremely protective of both Red and Lorna May and even knocked out Lorna May’s vaultie boyfriend for enthusiastically telling Red that he was named after the ugliest car ever manufactured. He also completely destroys anyone who dares to mess with Ford, but he is the only one in their family who doesn’t baby him for his disabilities.

Languages: English

Disabilities/Illnesses/Injuries: Red has scars on his face which are the beginnings of ghoulification. He has panic attacks about it which are completely paralyzing, similar to his father’s brand of anxiety.

Allergies: None.

Scars: Losing the skin across his right cheek up to his ear. Other much smaller spots showing the signs of ghoulification along his chest, right leg, and hips. Tons of scars on his legs and elbows from being extremely clumsy and hurting himself all the time. Burn scar on the front and side of his left shoulder… from playing with explosives.

Physical traits: Red has very large eyes with long dark eyelashes. He has freckles which are somewhat hidden because of the rosacea on his cheeks, his beard, and the scars, and otherwise looks almost exactly like his mother; with a huge mouth and overbite that always looks vaguely like he’s grinning, a very long pointed nose, an unpronounced forehead, and big ears. His twin, looking more like Ford, looks almost nothing like him.

Voice: He always sounds very upbeat and happy, his voice is not very deep and sometimes he talks so fast that his words blend together. He does not have the country accent that Lorna May has, and likes to poke fun at her when she accidentally lets it slip too much (and you better believe he gets punched).

Clothing: More often than anything, Red wears dresses. Eli questions his fashion choices all the time, and there is really no reason, he just likes them. He usually wears a cowboy hat and either the scarf his mother made for Ford covering the lower half of his face, a surgical mask, or an old faded red bandana Lena gave him because he is self conscious about his scars. When it is too cold to wear a dress, he has black military boots he wears with jeans and either just a sweater as a shirt or a ragged fur-lined vest with any variety of shirt under.

Fashion Style/Lifestye: Cowboy in a pretty dress…

Weapon of Choice:  Bolt action hunting rifle (with a silencer) and a clunky old pump action shotgun.

Skills: Red is very good with a rifle and always enjoys hunting. He is extremely stealthy (when he wants to be, otherwise he can be just as reckless as his cousin), even choosing to mostly wear soft-soled sneakers to assist in his preferred combat method. He’s also able to run for pretty much forever and rarely gets tired, much like Lorna May. Very good with explosives, after many failed and painful trials. And he’s a fantastic cook, as long as what you’re hoping to eat is mostly meat.

Weaknesses: Way too emotional a lot of the time, easily gets his feelings hurt, relies on his brother too much. Also has bouts of anxiety like his dad.

Poor skills: Poor depth perception, super clumsy, easily distracted: he falls off of cliffs a lot. Good thing there are stimpaks, otherwise he’d pretty much have broken bones all the time. He’s also not very strong and therefore isn’t too great at hand to hand combat (though he would tell you otherwise). For some reason always thinks leaping off a tall building/mountain is the best way down instead of, y'know… stairs?

Affiliations: Vault 76 dwellers

Former Affiliations: None.

Enemies: None.

Neutral Affiliations: Responders.

Religion: Agnostic

Likes: His family, his brother especially, hunting, cooking, cars (for exploding), setting things on fire, playing banjo (though he isn’t that great), battling Lorna May,  climbing up the tallest things he can find and just admiring the view. And then jumping off.

Dislikes: Jolene and Ford have had their orchard since before the war, and Red’s very least favorite chore is always going out and picking the peaches. He would much rather go out with a pistol and shoot mole rats while Eli does the picking. He also isn’t a fan of snow. He was born in a nuclear winter, he’d be happy to never see snow again (it’s slightly better when Lena is around to enjoy it with).

Hates: His scars.

Friends: Lorna May Euler, Elijah Euler, Jimmy, Lena Riggs, Gilroy O’Niell, Ava (who he also used to have a crush on but… don’t tell Lena, she’s scary when she’s jealous), Daisy Wilson

Acquaintances: Other Vault dwellers he has come upon in his travels

Former friends: After the death of Alyce, Jolene became even more fiercely protective of her family. Elijah and Red were very rarely allowed to associate with outsiders until they were much older, unlike Lorna May,  so they didn’t meet many other humans before the Vault opened.

Enemies: Eli’s pet squirrel. He hates that thing. Plus Eli gives it more affection than he gives him…

Also Chester Sullivan, because he is terrifying.

Pets: None.

Personality: Red is energetic and mostly always happy, but he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve. Despite his very low charisma, he is not really that shy and has a hard time containing his feelings, and he will blurt things out without actually meaning to. He also is definitely an instigator and can pester people about things if he thinks it’s funny to. Despite growing up in complete solitude from other humans, he is very empathetic and always tries to help people even if it is definitely not a good idea to do so.

He is very expressive, loving and completely loyal to those he cares for. Because of his lack of previous socialization, however, he has absolutely no idea how to handle it when he has a crush on someone, and also becomes smitten nearly immediately after meeting them. Where ordinarily he is extremely affectionate to everyone, if he likes someone romantically he’s more of the awkward high-five/thumbs up instead of kiss kind of guy and would take a very long time before getting to anything more than that.

Favorite color: Though everyone assumes it is red because of his nickname, it’s actually pink and purple.

Favorite foods:  He makes some excellent opossum bacon. Also his Aunt Jolene’s pumpkin pie.

Favorite drinks: Mutfruit juice, Nuka Cola Quantum, coffee (not that he needs it), moonshine (which he makes himself).

Favorite Sweets: Blackberry cobbler, peach cobbler, pumpkin pie, just about any baked sweets and pastries.

_____________________________________

Other info: He later has three kids with Lena; their son, Landon Gabriel Adam Euler, and twin daughters, Lindsay Lee Alyce Euler and Winnebago “Winnie” Edsel Angela Euler.

By the time of Fallout 4, Red is still alive and completely ghoulified along with Ford.

Thanks as always @madddraws for the profile layout!

[wisconsinnerd7996]

Faith, Trust...And Just a Few Dead Corpses

Hello!  So I wrote this a while back, and I thought I might post it here, because why not.  It might become a larger piece, but who knows.  Enjoy!

*******************************************************************************************

            The popping of bike tires on blacktop, the clip-clopping of hooves, and the creaking of the covered wooden cart were the only sounds Trina had heard for at least a half an hour as they traveled.  It wasn’t abnormal, by any means.  It just meant that, sooner or later, that someone (probably Trick) was going to start singing or making some sort of noise, either out of utter boredom or because it was too quiet.  And seeing as how there had been nothing but forest all around them for the majority of their expedition, she was expecting something to come of the lack of sound around them.

           Then, she began hearing humming.  Called it, she thought.

           “Whoa, we’re halfway there…”

           Almost immediately, a second voice interrupted, in a matter-of-fact tone, “Uh, Trick, we’re really only a third of the way there.”

           “It’s just a song! I’m not-I know how much further we have!”

           “Well, I’m just saying, if you want to be accurate—"

           “I’m not trying to be accurate!  I’m trying to sing!”

           “Yeah, badly!” A third voice, baritone in nature, teased.

           The singer-extraordinaire angrily retorted, “Oh, kiss my ass, Merlin!”

           “No thanks! I’d rather eat dirt!”

           She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a small grin of amused annoyance growing on her lips.  Although her eyes were focused on the crack-and-hole-infested highway ahead, she could hear the snickers of her friends as they pedaled.

           This was their third trip to the Hub this month.  Two years ago, they were only taking a trip every two months. Their supplies were disappearing faster than they should be, and it was worrying Trina more and more, especially since winter was on the horizon.  The ground had already began frosting, and soon it would be covered in snow.  If this over use of supplies were to continue, Trina was going to have to hoard some of it, to prevent people taking more than their share.  She wasn’t about to make these three-hour treks during below freezing weather.

           Their horse and cart came to an sudden stop, much to the confusion of the driver and the four bicyclers.  Trina stopped her bike and found the horse sitting on the ground, stubbornly not moving an inch more.  The driver, Merlin, jumped down from his seat and walked around to the front of the horse. He tried to get the horse to stand, mainly by yanking on the bridle, but nothing worked.

           She glared at the short boy scratching at his mop-like brown hair. “What did you do, Trick?”

           The boy’s dark eyes widened in surprise over his round cheeks. “What?  What makes you think it was me?”

           Her eyebrow raised at him.  “Because it usually is you!”

           He paused for a moment in consideration, before he smirked roguishly. “Yeah, you got me there.  I didn’t do this though!”

           Trina heard a scoff.  She glanced over at Teach, their athletically built bookworm, who was shaking his head in disbelief.  “Why should we believe you?

           “Because…I’m telling the truth?”

           Trina glanced over at Alyce, a young woman who was twirling her faded red hair as she stared at the forest.  Trina’s eyes skimmed the area swiftly, trying to determine what she was looking at.

           Merlin, still trying to pull the horse up, wondered, “You really think that’s going to make us believe you?”

           “C’mon—"

           “Guys, do you hear that?” Alyce’s soft voice interrupted.

           Trina narrowed her eyes in confusion at the short girl.  She strained to hear what her friend, attempting to distinguish the sounds of the woods from each other.  After a few minutes of trying to extend her reach of hearing, she heard several twigs snapping; the sound of branches breaking under the foot of someone running, just up ahead.

           “Weapons out,” she ordered, retrieving the bat strapped to her back. “Be alert.”

           Her bike fell to the ground, as did the others', as she watched the tree-lines on either side of the road.  Behind her, she could hear the others readying their weapons: Teach’s shotgun cocking, Merlin’s sword unsheathing, and Alyce’s bow string plucking as she got her arrow in place.

           Trina took slow steps forward, her left hand tightly gripping the bat handle as it hung forward.  Her eyes scanned the right side of the road, where the sounds of people crashing through the forest began growing louder.  A million scenarios ran through her mind, and only about half of them were ones she liked.

           Through the tree-line her eyes were set on, about twenty feet ahead, two young boys stumbled out, both panting out small clouds of cold, vapor breaths.  Trina stared in confusion and surprise at the them, as they scrambled toward the road.  They were on their way to disappearing into the woods on the other side when from behind Trina, Teach yelled out, “Hey!”

           The boys came to a screeching halt, the smaller of the two boys slipping and falling to the ground.  The other boy helped him up, both staring at the them in fear.

           Amongst the woods from which the boys just appeared from, the sound of more twigs snapping underfoot drifted through the air.  The cracking was much slower than before, but it was steady.

           Raspy groans filled the air.

           Trina’s mind went from alert to high alert as she strode forward.  While glaring at the right-hand woods, she yelled back, “Merlin, stay with the cart!  Trick, grab the boys and all of you get back to Merlin.  Alyce and Teach, flank!”

           She adjusted her grip on her bat.  Her mind was slowly narrowing in on the practically bald, aged woman wearing the bright neon green jumpsuit breaking through the forest.  Behind the little old lady, a heavy-set man wearing all camo and a short woman with pitch black hair crept slowly through the trees. More were following them.

           Eyes trained on them, she gave her bat a twirl as she, Teach, and Alyce approached the new group of bloody, growling humans.  Trina went for the little old lady, her right hand reaching up to grab the bat too.  The old lady saw Trina close, her bleeding eyes blank of emotion, and opened her mouth to let out a shrieking groan.

           Trina swung before the lady could make a sound.

*******************************************************************************************

            She remembered when they were just stories. Adults up and dying, only to stand right back up and keep walking—right up to a person to take a bite.  The stories then started appearing on the television.  Trina recalled her and Axel sitting in front of the TV when the reports first began coming in.  Eyes and fears enraptured, they’d watch as news crews and stations airing footage of these people attacking.  It got so graphic and gory that their parents forbade them from watching anymore.  Of course, that didn’t stop them.  All it did was make them sneakier when watching.

           The weeks passed, and the stories of the “virus” going around only increased.  One evening, she remembered, while their parents were out getting food, they were watching the national news and the anchors listed city after city in which the “virus” had spread.  Her brother turned to her, and asked, in his little squeaky voice, “Trina, do you think that the sick people will come here?”

           “Don’t know,” she answered.  She had never lied to her brother, not intentionally.

           “What will we do if they do come?”  

His frightened voice and his fearful gray eyes made her wrap a comforting arm around him.  He leant into her embrace, calming slightly as she ran her hand through his dark brown hair.

           “Don’t worry.  I’ll protect you.”

 *******************************************************************************************

           After they had taken care of the treat, Merlin approached Trina and commented, “They’re coming further out.”

           Trina, as she shook her bat a few times to get the excess blood and brain matter off, merely nodded.

           “Trina, you know what these means, right?”

           She gave the towering gray-haired young man a cold look, and bit out, “I know, Merlin.  It means that either we have to stop making as many trips to the Hub, or—“

           “Or, we’ll have to move the camp again.”

           Moving the camp was one of the last things that Trina wanted to do.  They had done it before, and it was a huge mess every time.  There was always a few that didn’t want to leave.  Most of those were the ones that were old enough to make their own decisions, playing the “I can take care of myself card”.  Still, she tried to convince as many as she could to come with each time they had to leave, because she really didn’t want to leave anyone behind.

           Trina sighed in exasperation.  “What do you expect me to do?”

           He shrugged.  “Choose wisely.  Look, me and the group will go where you go.  Same with many of the kids back at camp.”

           “I never asked for this.”

           “No great leader does.”

           “God, you sound like…”  She trailed off, sadness creeping into her thoughts.  It was still hard to think his name, let alone say it.

           Despite not finishing her sentence, Merlin nodded in acknowledgement, with a grim grin.  “Yeah, well he was a bright kid.”

           “Yeah, he was.  Got you to listen to me.”

           He chuckled.  “That he did. That he did.”

           She laughed for a moment, earning herself a grin from Merlin.  She turned away from him and towards the cart. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

           She and Merlin strolled up to their wooden carrier. In front, Trick sat on the driver’s seat, leisurely relaxing.  He gave her and Merlin a mock salute as they passed him on the way to the back of the cart, where Alyce and Teach were standing with the kids.  Her eyes fell on the two boys, each eating an apple from the cart, and for a moment, all she could see were two Axels.  A lump of emotion swelled in her throat and a lump of guilt gnawed on the lining of her stomach.

           “Hey, kids,” she greeted.  “You okay.”

           Their eyes found hers, both fearful sets, and they nodded mutely.

           “That’s good.  So, listen…”

           Before she could finish, her sentence, however, Trick shouted from the front of the cart, “BANDITS!”

           For crying out loud, can’t we catch a single break, today? Trina thought, annoyed.  She stepped forward in front of the group, Teach following her movement, while Alyce and Merlin grabbed the kids and pushed them into the covered cart. Immediately, a hoard of people yelling and shouting swarmed around them.  Trick got back to them, sling-shot ready, just as the others got their weapons out.

 *******************************************************************************************

           Whenever Axel had put his mind to something, it almost certainly would happen.  It was almost magic how it happened.  There were times she swore he was.

           So, when the camp had needed a leader, he decided that no one fit the bill better than her.  He argued with all the older kids, until he was blue in the face.  No matter how much she tried to convince him that she’d never be leader in the group, he would never stop believing, never stop trying.  It eventually did work, just not in the way he expected, and not in the way she wanted.

           She should have never gone on that trip to prove she was a worthy leader.  She should have never left him at the camp.  She should have done a lot of things.

           But she didn't.

           His birthday was last week.  He would have been twelve.  He should have been twelve.

*******************************************************************************************

           Parasites.

           Trina could probably think of several hundred names of the same nature for them, and every single one of them would fit perfectly when describing this group of “rogues”.

           They circled the seven of them and their cart, wielding handmade weapons of wood and metal and whatever else they could have scavenged up.  Scars marred and ripped across their flesh, wounds intentionally cut into their skin (as she had unfortunately witnessed) to make them seem older and more intimidating.

           None of those scars worked, because all Trina could see were a bunch of scared boys and girls running around playing pretend.  Playing a game until the clock stops for all of them.

           She glared at the group enclosing her own, scanning for any quick movement as her left hand gripped the heavy wooden bat that was still stained with blood.  A few of the rogues laughed at them, but none dared to step closer. She glanced her comrades for a moment, silently communicating the strategy she had in mind, before turning her attention back to the swarm before her.

           “Petrina Panacek.”

           She froze, her eyes widening.  Hatred and agony rushed through her blood as a young man her age stepped into view, a few feet in front of her.  He stood with patronizing blue eyes aimed at her, a tilted smirk playing on his lips. His light hair peeked out from under a black cap, and his entire wardrobe of black leather reflecting off the sunlight. He took another step towards her, his fingers dancing along the hilt of the dagger in his belt.

           “Hoover Rook,” she growled in anger, as she looked at the reason why her heart had an eleven-year-old boy-shaped hole in it.

           His smirk widened, and he chuckled.  “Please…call me Captain.”

[bitchfromtheseventhhell]

@octopishisahybridanimal

Arya fulfills her promise and sees Hot Pie again after the war has ended. P.S. I love your writing!

Terrence leads a careful life.  That’s what war taught him.  Careful and keep your head down and you may live through it…if you don’t come across the bad ones, who’ll kill you for not doing as they wish.  He’d stayed alive, somehow.  Lommy hadn’t, and gods only knew what had become of the weasel-faced girl that had followed them about.  He’d heard people talk of Robert Baratheon’s Bullhelmed Bastard, but Gendry had always been big in the right way, the way that made someone strong.  Terrence had only ever been big in the way that wasn’t useful in war.

It was, however, useful for baking.  A fat baker is a good sign, Goodwife Helicent had told him.  A sign he’ll eat his own food.  And Terrence does eat his own food.  He’s always been good at baking—breads and hot pies.  

Spring comes and flowers bloom and Terrence does his best to do way with memories of blood and war and fear.  When he remembers, he kneads his dough and makes biscuits in the shapes of direwolves, because everyone knows of House Stark’s heroism, and when he does he remembers a little girl shrieking “go to hell” alongside his cries of “hot pie!”  He wonders if she remembers him.  She’d remember him as Hot Pie, not Terrence.  Hot Pie’s the name of a Flea Bottom boy who never understood why the world was hard.  Terrence was the name of a man with a few ideas.

Flour was expensive.  Grains were expensive.  Meat was expensive.  Fruit was expensive.  Everything was expensive.  Farmers farmed as fast as the earth would let them farm, but that wasn’t enough to undo the damage of winter—sunken eyes and hollow cheeks and hunger everywhere.  Terrence gave his stale bread out to those who couldn’t buy it fresh.  It was the least he could do, and it felt like the right thing besides.  What else was going to come of it anyhow?  He married a woman named Alyce, who helped with the laundry in the inn.  She was sharper than he was, and skinnier, but she liked him well enough and seemed content to be his wife which was as much as Terrence had ever hoped for.  He wasn’t Gendry, wasn’t a warrior.  He was a baker, and a baker leads a simple life, with a simple wife and hopefully, when everyone’s bellies were a little fuller, simple children who’d learn to bake wolf-shaped biscuits with their father.

A simple life was all he wanted, but one day he hears a whole host of horses ride up and he survived the winter, he knows what a whole host of horses can mean.  Alyce looks at him nervously from the yard and he beckons her into the kitchen as he brushes his hands onto his apron and goes out into the main room and then out into the yard.  He sees banners—grey and white—and soldiers who look well-fed, and a great wolf the size of a horse, a young woman standing at its side and dressed in fine velvets and furs.  

And when she turns, her face breaks out into the sort of grin he’d never seen on her face when they’d been younger.  “Hot Pie!” she says, striding towards him.

“M’lady,” he says, bowing stiffly, but Arya Stark waves the courtesy away, looking about.  

“It’s yours now?” she asks.

“Aye.  So long as I can hold it,” he says.  No one knows whose it really is.  No one can remember, and Terrence is as likely a holder as anyone else is.  

“Are you still baking?” she asks him, and he’s surprised.  She seems actually interested.  Arya the Night Wolf is truly interested in whether Terrence is still baking hot pies or not.  

“Yes m’lady,” he says.  “I am.  When I can find the flour.”

Her eyes sparkle for a moment, and she turns, waving at one of her men.

“Well, you have the flour, so long as you tell us where to put it so that it won’t spoil.”

One of the horses moves, and Terrence sees it—a whole wagon filled with great sacks of flour.  No.  Not a wagon.  Four wagons.  He gapes.

“My lady,” is all he can manage, and Arya Stark of Winterfell loops her arm through his.  

“It seems the littlest thing I can do to thank you for helping me stay alive, I should think.  If there’s ever more that I can do, know that I will, Hot Pie.”

“Terrence,” he hears himself saying, and she cocks her head, curiously.  “Terrence,” he mumbles again.  “My name’s Terrence.  Always was, but I don’t…no one calls me Hot Pie anymore.”

Arya’s smile softens.  “No one calls me Arry anymore,” she says.  “Well, Terrence—where can we store your flour for you?”

[dawnajaynes32]

23 Creative Design Ideas from the Education Industry

Those of us at HOW will always raise our glasses to the educators of the world—those courageous individuals bringing passion to the classroom and changing lives in the process. But today, we want to recognize some other underappreciated superheroes in the education sector: the in-house designers. The creatives behind the materials that help ensure there are places in which knowledge can be shared, educators to share it and students ready to learn.

As we near the final deadline for the HOW In-House Design Awards (July 5, 2017!), we feature 23 projects that have been recognized in the Awards over the past few years. Those of you leading or working on in-house design teams in the education industry—we hope you’ll soak up some inspiration from these award-winning projects and consider entering your own team’s best work.

As for those of you in-housers in other industries—be sure to check out the full list of categories for the HOW In-House Design Awards. There’s a category for B2B, consumer, education, nonprofit and several more industries. And there’s always a a place for your best work.

23 Creative Design Ideas in the Education Sector

1.  Kutztown University Senior Portfolio Review

  COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Kutztown University CREATIVE TEAM Jamie Basile and Denise Bosler LOCATION Branchburg, New Jersey

2. Be Creative Campaign

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Full Sail University, Platinum Creative, Winter Park, FL; www.fullsail.edu DETAILS The “Be Creative” campaign tells the stories of how people express their creativity and reveals how Full Sail University is a community that empowers originality and innovation.

3. Boston University Annual Report (2015)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Boston University, www.bu.edu/marcom CREATIVE TEAM Doug Gould, Lee Caulfield, Caleb Daniloff, Ken Lewis, Janice Checchio, Chalres Alfier, Maureen Moran, the interactive team, Bruce Peterson, Mark Fleming, Scott Nobles DETAILS The goal of the annual report was to demonstrate the tenacity of Boston University’s researchers despite less research dollars being available to all universities, including BU.

4. Capital Campaign Brochure

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION School of the Art Institute of Chicago, www.saic.edu CREATIVE TEAM David Collins, Travis Saunders, Sophia Brown DETAILS This visually and tactilely engaging brochure includes a semi-transparent front pocket for story cards featuring the work of alumni, students and faculty members who benefit from donations.

5. Evening of Exploration

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Wheaton Academy, Chicago; www.wheatonacademy.org CREATIVE TEAM Nikki Daniels, Megan Cochrum, Jim Holtrop, Catherine Tilly, Deb Anderson, Joey McKenna, Matt Hockett, Dan Nicholas DETAILS The objective was to create a unique event that casts vision for equipping students to be active participants in the broader narrative of scientific exploration and discovery, and raise funds for Wheaton Academy’s new science facility.

6. Graphic Design and Designing Green Poster (2015)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Auburn University School of Industrial + Graphic Design CREATIVE TEAM Courtney Windham LOCATION Auburn, Alabama

7. League of the Constant & True

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Wake Forest University, Winston Salem, NC; www.wfu.edu CREATIVE TEAM Hayes Henderson, Kris Hendershott, Emily Bratton, Lisa Perriello, Joel Bowers, Gretta Kohler, Bart Rippin DETAILS The League of the Constant & True targets young alumni and those who haven’t given in the past, encouraging them to start an annual streak of philanthropic support to Wake Forest.

8. Full Sail University’s Hall of Fame Exhibit

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Full Sail University CREATIVE TEAM Platinum Creative Image & Design LOCATION Winter Park, Florida

9. ARTSpeak (2014–2015)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Fashion Institute of Technology CREATIVE TEAM Christie Shin, C.J. Yeh, Patrick Obando Polio, Bea Saludo, and Angel Choong LOCATION Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

10. Admissions Viewbook

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Wake Forest University, Winston Salem, NC; www.wfu.edu CREATIVE TEAM Hayes Henderson, Brent Piper, Bart Rippin, Rob Daniels, Ken Bennett, Gretta Kohler DETAILS The main objective was to create a tone and visual energy that would provide answers to prospective students in ways that conjure the student experience.

11. Music Department Brochure

  COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Kutztown University, Kutztown, PA; www.kutztown.edu CREATIVE TEAM Karen Kresge, Michael O’Donohue, Soo Goh, Jeremy Justeson DETAILS The objective was to attract high school students to Kutztown University to study music, while representing the dynamic music department and the many opportunities that the program offers.

12. Social Paper Catalog

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Columbia College Chicago CREATIVE TEAM Mary Forde and Stefan Coisson LOCATION Chicago, Illinois

13. Studio Twelve01 Art Walls

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION The University of Texas-Pan American CREATIVE TEAM Kimberly Selber and Santa Hernandez LOCATION Edinburg, Texas

14. DxD: Differentiate by Design No. 2

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Pratt Institute, New York City; www.pratt.edu CREATIVE TEAM Joshua Graver, Peter Tannenbaum, David Dupont DETAILS The objective was to highlight the results of Pratt’s corporate partnerships and sponsored studios that allow the institute’s students to work on real-world projects that offer innovative design solutions.

15. Theatre Center Season Brochure (2013–2014)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Columbia College Chicago; www.colum.edu CREATIVE TEAM Ben Bilow, Jacob Boll, Mary Forde DETAILS The objective was to feature photography that evokes the paintings of “old masters” while also conveying the department’s signature contemporary portrayals of classical dramas through dramatic depictions.

16. Full Sail University’s Welcome Center

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Full Sail University CREATIVE TEAM Platinum Creative Image & Design LOCATION Winter Park, Florida

17. Prattshows

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Pratt Institute, New York City; www.pratt.edu CREATIVE TEAM Joshua Graver, Peter Tannenbaum, David Dupont, Kara Schlindwein DETAILS The objective was to promote Pratt’s end-of-year event and exhibitions as well as its original public programming, all in a single piece.

18. Hall of Fame 7 Branding

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Full Sail University, Platinum Creative, Winter Park, FL; www.fullsail.edu DETAILS To mark Hall of Fame 7’s seventh year (and to honor the decade the school was founded), the team drew inspiration from the 1970s.

19. SVA Graduate Catalog (2014–2015)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION School of Visual Arts, Visual Arts Press Ltd., New York City; www.sva.edu CREATIVE TEAM Anthony P. Rhodes, Michael J. Walsh, Brian E. Smith, Sheilah Ledwidge, Collier Schorr, Abby Kreh DETAILS The objective was to provide potential students with the information they need, such as program overviews, course descriptions, faculty bios, sample programs, etc.

20. Youth Program Brochure

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Pratt Institute, New York City; www.pratt.edu CREATIVE TEAM Joshua Graver, Kara Schlindwein, Peter Tannenbaum, David Dupont DETAILS The objective was to promote Pratt’s K–12 art programs and to raise money to support it.

21. Bridging Business, Culture, Politics

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Zeppelin Universität, Friedrichshafen, Germany; www.zu.de CREATIVE TEAM Philipp N. Hertel, Ulrike von Dewitz, Tim Göbel DETAILS The objective was to develop a unique design language for the attitude of “bridging” business, culture and politics.

22. BU Momentum Event in Beijing, China

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION Boston University; www.bu.edu CREATIVE TEAM Suzan Glaum, Andrea Kennedy, Alyce Nicolo DETAILS The objective was to represent both BU and Beijing, while being relevant to all other countries in the Asian Alumni Association. Elements had to be scaled to a website and invitation, as well as signage.

23. STCL Annual Report to Donors (2013–2014)

COMPANY/ORGANIZATION South Texas College of Law, Houston; www.stcl.edu CREATIVE TEAM David Powell, Terry Vine, Laura Tolley DETAILS The objective was to thank the alumni for their ongoing support while encouraging them to continue to give back to the college.

 Show your in-house clients that you’re an industry leader. Enter to win the HOW In-House Design Awards by 7/5!

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