#bc i s2g if i have to look at this chapter for more than another week im going to scream

[orcelito]

does discacc read as being made by someone Mentally Ill? be honest

[kratosaurioned]

pokemon violet thoughts (there may be spoilers)

i enjoyed it a lot! more than i liked swsh, not as much as sm or usum

as much as i would've liked a quadrupedal final evo for sprigatito, meowscarada is still cute and also op with its flower trick move

i cannot stand quaquaval though. the way it moves is Bad

a lot of the evolutions did feel kinda... phoned in? kinda copy and paste?

like i've seen hundreds of super cool dunsparce evos and what they went for was... dunsparce with segments? i guess that works with the tsuchinoko inspiration but like... really?

i appreciate what they were trying to do with wiglett and toedscool but i do not think they stuck the landing. toedscool in particular seems pretty forced, they would've done better with like a krabby rip off bc crabs are everywhere

a specific gameplay thing that's bothering me is that at the end you get ur miraidon or koraidon as a battling pokemon but! if you want to ride them! they are removed from your battle party!!! infuriating!!! i know there is a 2nd one but listen, i have formed a bond of love with my riding miraidon and THAT is the one i want to battle with

the final chapter was great though, big fan of that final trip with the gang

lemme just say that the real turo was lucky he was already dead bc if he wasn't, i s2g, i would make him regret his life and choices

ai turo you were the real dad arven deserved in the end

ok circling back to the pokemon

why can't the paradox pokemon just also be considered alternate versions. why do they get separate pokedex entries.

why is it that arven calls them 'weird machines' when it's like, literally just a weird looking delibird

like obvs all the future ones are glossy and metal but uh. magnemite??

how is it that a galarian meowth is recognisable as a meowth but you can't see that a metallic delibird is still a fuckin delibird

also: how come the past pokemon get cool names like slither wing and roaring moon, while the future ones are like iron hands and iron moth. why do all future paradox 'mon have 'iron' as their prefix when only ONE of them is steel type

another baffling thing: pkmn scarlet is grabbing pokemon from the past, so why can't we have wyrdeer, basculegion etc

[millennial-ring]

Can we get more info on 5-7?

             5. Dear God

So this one is ANCIENT (2012!!!) and idk why it’s still in my WIPs folder because I do clean it out/reorganize it every few years or so (which is why that unfinished powershipping christmas fic wasn’t on the list, cause I moved it to a different folder). Sadly the title makes it seem more interesting than it actually is - it’s just a few paragraphs and nothing really happens at all. 

Russet eyes were glazed over as they watched the rain pelt the ground, each drop making tiny indents in the dirt, puffs of the still-dry earth floating up with each splash before settling down again, the process repeating over...and over... Rain drummed against the body of a beaten up jeep, the only prominent sound within miles, save to the sound of the rain falling in the grass, and the dirt, and the leather jacket Bakura wore. 

The man blinked as water ran down his face, following the curve of his brow and rolling over the crease of his eyelid, flowing into his eye. The water pooled between his lids, blurring his vision for a few moments until he blinked again, and the water was squeezed out to mingle with the rest on his face, like a single, solitary tear. He inhaled slowly, then let the breath out in a quick huff, turning away from the long stretch of dirt road in front of him. Behind him, another long chunk of drivable desert. He growled under his breath and began to pace, wet sand squishing under his boots, gravel shifting with each step. 

How could be trapped here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, with a flat fucking tire and no spare? 

It was inspired by this Avenged Sevenfold song and I vaguely remember that it was going to be thiefshipping, about the various trials Bakura goes through to get back to Malik after a fight or something but... 🤷

              6. Domestic Disturbance

This one is also super short, more fleshed out in my mind than on paper, and I started writing it after we had to call the cops on our neighbors because they were having a very loud and long argument (like, over an hour of yelling). Inspiration comes from the dumbest places with me, haha, but this is another one of those “why is this still in my wips” documents because I don’t have any intention of finishing it. After writing what I did I kinda had a “maybe these kinds of situations shouldn’t be your inspiration for fanfics, weirdo” moment and I scrapped it. But anyway! 

The story goes that Bakura was playing some Wii game, lost grip on the controller, and accidentally chucked it and broke a vase because he wasn’t wearing the wrist strap. Malik hears the crash and comes around the corner, lecturing him about “how many times have i told you i s2g bakura why are you like this” even as Bakura’s already beginning to clean up the mess. Bakura gruffly tells him to chill out because nothing important was broken anyway, just “that ugly ass vase” and he holds up a piece for Malik to see. The tension thickens immediately and Malik speaks with measured anger instead of the usual screaming, so Bakura knows He Fucked Up. “That was a gift from my sister.” Bakura panics a bit on the inside, but outside he scoffs and he’s all like “even better, tell her she has awful tastes” because ykno. He’s like that. Doesn’t wanna admit he fucked up, doesn’t wanna take responsibility or acknowledge he hurt Malik’s feelings. At this point I’d stopped writing it, but still have the basic outline. The regular bickering becomes a super intense all out screaming match about basically anything and everything, all the tiny little things they’d been burying for as long as they’d lived together finally coming out, start demanding why they ever thought this would work and they’re just about to get to that great crescendo where they're about to break up (”Well then maybe you shouldn’t have brought me back!” “At this point I’m inclined to agree!” Bakura’s shocked. “Well...then is this going where I think it’s going?” “I think it is.” “Then say it.” “...” “Say you want to break up!” “I...Bakura, I...” when someone knocks on the door. Heyo, it’s two cops, saying someone called in a domestic disturbance. Malik snaps that they’re fine, still pissed from the fight, but obviously like no Malik that’s not gonna help. So one officer brings Bakura out into the hall to question him and the other stays with Malik. Cop asks if they’re together, how long, what the fight was about, etc etc, and then if the fight had been physical at all. Bakura recoils in shock and practically screams “No!” “You never hit Malik?” “I would never!” “And Malik wouldn’t hit you?” There’s a few things there, bc I wasn’t sure how I wanted Bakura to respond; make an “only if he asked wink wonk” joke that the cop rolls his eyes at, or stammer that “i mean he’s smacked my head once or twice but it never hurt and i was being super annoying at the time and it was more like playful slapping” but either way the cop asks for a more direct answer or for Bakura to elaborate and Bakura gets pissed, says Malik would cut off his own hand before he hit Bakura because obviously. Cop seems taken aback but nods, and then lectures Bakura a bit about volume, tells him maybe one of them should pack a bag and stay with friends or family for a few days. Their partner comes out soon after and the two cops leave. Bakura goes back inside, where Malik is standing with his arms crossed, looking shaken with red rimmed eyes. They look at each other, feeling awkward, but then they make tea, sit down, and have a calmer “are we really like that?” conversation. they admit a lot of their fights are pointless and stupid and they’re just fighting to fight because it’s Their Thing and aha, aren’t we so cute and quirky, arguing is our foreplay - which it is, but they admit they’ve taken it too far, gotten too used to snapping at each other when something happens, and some of their issues (like Bakura disrespecting Malik’s siblings, and Malik’s control freak attitude) really need to be sat down and talked out, not screamed out. They apologize, foreheads pressed together, and Malik thumbs a tear from Bakura’s cheek. Bakura strokes his fingers through Malik’s hair. Malik makes a “well you know the best part about fighting, right?” and Bakura laughs, and then it ends.

               7. But he came back

So if y’all didn’t know I recently commissioned a(n amazing) fic from @/sitabethel (not properly tagging cause i don’t wanna bother them). In it, Bakura promises Malik he’ll come back after his final showdown with Atem, but ten years pass and Malik gets engaged to Seto. It’s corporate theifshipping and obviously I recommend reading it - but it’s based on an RP I did with a friend of mine years ago. In the RP, Bakura was pissed Malik hadn’t waited for him and does the whole “why did I even bother coming back I literally only came back to be with you?????” and Malik being like “Sorry? But you took a long fucking time and I had to do something to stop the loneliness.” We never finished it, but when we dropped it Bakura was starting to heal and move on and we had plans to end it powershipping and tendershipping - and Bakura catching the bouquet at the wedding and Ryou immediately being like >:) but anyway. The concept stuck with me and I really liked the idea of Bakura coming back to that situation and more so rolling with it - maybe a touch bitter at first, but hey, he’s nothing if not adaptable, and he absolutely invites himself into the relationship in the clunkiest way possible. 

“But he came back” was the start of my own attempt to write something with that kind of plot. When I write a fic, I start with a vague collection of ideas or scenes I want to write, and then when I have enough to work with, I begin organizing them into an outline. This doc is just a very small collection of ideas and dialogue, mixing some things taken from the RP and my own ideas. It’s mostly things like how Malik and Kaiba get to the marriage point, starting with an impromptu kinda tipsy make out session hidden away in the kitchen during a party Yugi’s throwing, and how they navigate each other’s trauma and fumble their way into a genuine romance despite everything. I’ve never managed to sit down and work it out into an outline of any kind, and the way I wanted to explore Malik and Bakura’s relationship before the show down, Malik and Kaiba’s relationship building afterwards, and then the relationship building with all three of them meant 30 chapters, at least (the original rp is over 2,500 pages and again, we had only just started with Bakura wanting to ask Ryou out and going to Malik for advice adjklj, when we dropped it) and well. yall know i’m bad at writing multi fic chapters 

[frostedpuffs]

Broken Hearts Club - Ch.7

Broken Hearts Club Summary: Upon confessing to their crushes, Marinette and Chat Noir both find out the hard way that those who hold the key to their hearts have affections for another. Rejected and blue, the pair find themselves in an odd sort of friendship, all while hiding the fact that they’d been the one to break the other’s heart. When feelings that hadn’t initially been within them begin to rise, they both have to come to terms with the fact that maybe the person they’d rejected means more to them than they had originally expected… Rated: T Pairings: Marinette/Chat Noir, Adrien/Marinette

Chapter 7 - Is This A Bad Time? Word Count: 6,093 Read on: ao3 | fanfiction.net

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The first thing that registered in Marinette's mind when she began to wake was that she was very, very comfortable.

The second was that muted sunlight was streaming through her eyelids and a dull, orange glow was just out of sight.

The third…

Well, the third was that someone was hugging her. Warm arms wrapped loosely around her waist and soft, short hair tickled the back of neck. The tip of a nose nuzzled against the little bit skin that wasn't protected by her supersuit as a breath blew against her shoulder. Marinette pressed into the source of heat behind her, which was slowly drawing back her in to the wonderful sleep she'd been experiencing moments before…

But then a quiet sigh rose up from her back, and she froze.

There was a person in bed with her. Someone was in her bed. It was quite a startling factor to wake up to considering she always slept alone.

Sitting bolt upright, Marinette's eyes snapped open as she gulped in a breath of air in tune with a gasp. Her gaze darted to the large hands that draped over her thighs, and she had to muffle a scream with her palm as she realized that she was definitely not at home in her own bed.

Shit!

Shutting her eyes tight, Marinette squealed softly into her gloved hands, very slowly recalling the events of the day. She'd gone to school, there had be an akuma attack; she'd fought alongside Chat Noir and purified Dreamscape's butterfly, which had been in his sleeping cap, and hadn't used her lucky charm...and she had also been very tired.

So tired that after she'd brought Adrien home, she had apparently fallen asleep in his bed.

With him.

Marinette allowed her eyes to open, and peeked at the boy to the left of her, tangled up in his blankets and blond hair a shaggy mess. His lips were slightly parted, and as he slept, his light-colored eyelashes twitched against his cheeks, signaling that he remained all the more unaware. And his hands-

Oh, god, his hands-

His hands rested lazily atop her thighs, jostled from her frightened awakening.

That meant he must have been...he must have…

He must have been holding her.

A squeak left Marinette's mouth as she buried her face deeper into her palms. She could feel the warmth of her skin through her gloves. She needed to leave. She needed to leave now and she knew she should have left earlier but god, she'd been so tired and she had made a very bad decision!

I cuddled Adrien! We totally cuddled!

They had cuddled once before...but that had been over a year ago on her fifteenth birthday, and they'd both been too tired to care, and Marinette had been considerably less embarrassed that time because she hadn't been Ladybug.

Adrien cuddled Ladybug. Did Ladybug cuddle Adrien? Did she snuggle him back? She had no way of knowing. (She partly doubted she had, though, considering it seemed like Adrien had been the big spoon.)

Breathing a heavy sigh through her nose and practically pulling out her hair, Marinette nibbled at her bottom lip, nervous and flustered and a complete mess. It was time to go! Time to leave! Time to go home and scream! Ding ding, Ladybug, this is your signal to go before Adrien wakes up!

"Okay, okay," she whispered to herself. One of her hands snaked down to gently lift Adrien's, positioning them on his sheets instead of her lap. She froze as he stirred, her heart beating so loudly in her chest that she swore it would disturb his sleep and wake him in an instant. Don't wake up, please don't wake up, Marinette internally begged. She did not feel like having to explain to Adrien why Ladybug, superheroine of Paris, had passed out in his bed.

She held her breath for approximately two seconds before she shifted, sliding her way off of the bed. One foot touched the floor, and she let out a sigh of relief as she was able to stand, plucking her yo-yo from her waist and inching her way towards the window. Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and she'd be home-free and would have successfully avoided a very awkward conversation.

Pushing open the window, Marinette forced herself to resist the urge to spare one last glance at Adrien. She placed a foot on the windowsill and rose her arm, yo-yo at the ready-

"Ladybug?"

-and yelped.

"A-Adrien!" Marinette gasped and she turned, eyes as wide as saucers and cheeks redder than her suit. "Hey, uh, you're awake! Th-That's good."

Adrien was sitting up, his mess of blond hair making him look absolutely endearing. Puzzled, his lower lip jutted out in confusion, and he cocked his head to the side. "Did you bring me home?"

Was he blushing, or was that just her?

"Um." Marinette twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, reverting back to her old nervous habit of nibbling her lower lip. "Y-yes. I did."

Adrien nodded, studying the wrinkled sheets. "Oh."

Marinette swallowed, silent.

Staring at her for a moment longer than what was comfortable, Adrien glanced at the side of the bed she'd been occupying not ten minutes before and held his gaze there. "...Okay. Thanks, Ladybug. I appreciate it."

"N-no problem!" Marinette's voice rose an octave. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with her hands, opting to just clasp them behind her back instead of waving them about. "A-anything for y-you, Adrien! It wasn't a problem!"

Adrien's stare settled on the rumpled blankets to his right. Quiet, he plucked at them and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it even further. The late afternoon sunlight that bounced off his skin practically made him glow, and his eyes shone like summer fields in the orange rays. His skin looked deliciously soft; Marinette knew from experience that the same arms that had been holding her earlier were very, very warm, and immeasurably comforting.

Adrien was gorgeous, no doubt. But he was also kind. And that—that was more important to Marinette than any looks he may possess.

A hum broke Marinette from her stupor, pupils dilating as she watched Adrien swing his legs to the side of the bed. He seemed contemplative, like he was thinking about something or considering whether or not he should ask a certain question. But then he graced her with one of his beautiful smiles, and Marinette knew in that moment she she was still so far gone.

Who was she kidding, thinking she was over this boy?

Adrien stood, walking towards her. "Really," he said, smiling, "thank you. I'm sure it was a lot better for me to nap in my bed than an alleyway." He scratched behind his neck—a nervous tick Marinette had picked up on years ago. "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble."

Marinette furiously shook her head, feeling herself becoming increasingly more flushed with every passing second. "N-not at all, I promise! I didn't mind at all! You're not hard to carry! V-very, um...nice."

"Nice?"

Groaning under her breath, Marinette slapped a palm to her face. Nice. "Sorry, I should leave-"

"It's okay," Adrien said, his cheeks red. Marinette would have relished in the small victory of making him blush if they weren't in such a precarious situation. "You don't...you don't, uh, have to."

Her heart skipped a beat.

Had he just offered for her to stay…?

She could stay, if he wanted her to. She could stay forever. She could stay and lay back down with him and she could be the big spoon this time, and-

-and…

A sigh fell from her lips. Adrien barely knew Ladybug; he was probably just being polite. She needed to go.

"No, I do have to," she said, gesturing with her thumb to his window. "It's uh, past school and I missed my classes and my parents...wondering where I am...homedinner-—I mean, dinnerwork—ugh, sorryIgottagobye!"

She didn't allow herself another moment to embarrass herself as she swung out his window, nearing humiliation and cursing the entire way home.

Three missed calls.

Three missed calls and eight texts from Alya bombarded Marinette the moment she dropped through her trapdoor and went to check her phone.

"Crap," she hissed to herself, knowing that her best friend must be incredibly worried. She hadn't so much as given her a text after the akuma attack due to her exhaustion and now faced the consequences, guilt immediately washing over her in the form of concerned messages.

Messaging - Alya 10:52 A.M.: GIRL THAT AKUMA WAS WACK 10:52 A.M.: altho i admit i feel a lot better rested now 11:10 A.M.: hello mademoiselle marinette im talking 2 u 11:40 A.M.: nette are you okay you usually text back by now 11:43 A.M.: i s2g if dreambitch got to u im gonna find him and kick his ass 12:15 P.M.: MARINETTe 2:52 P.M.: you and adrien both arent back to school yet did u two take a nap together or something? without me? bc if you did thats rude and i feel left out 6:42 P.M.: MARINETTE IT'S LITERALLY ALMOST 7PM

Marinette sighed, smiling despite herself. At least she had Alya there to look out for her.

(Chat Noir too, of course.)

The second to last message caused a blush to creep back upon her cheeks, and she moaned into her palm. If only Alya knew how right she was.

Deciding to forgo that thought, Marinette typed out a quick reply letting her best friend know that she was home and safe before flopping backwards onto her bed. She wasn't tired any longer, but an uneasy feeling remained in the pit of her stomach.

What would Adrien think if he knew it had been Marinette next to him? Would that make him uncomfortable? Or would he not mind because she was a friend?

Would he have still cuddled her like he had…? And more importantly, did Adrien know he was cuddling Ladybug, or was it out of habit? Nino had once mentioned that Adrien always has to hold onto something while he sleeps, whether it be a pillow or, in her case, a person. And she'd very much enjoyed it.

She almost wished she hadn't left.

Adrien had been so peaceful, and the feeling of his arms around her waist had been so nice, and his face in her neck had been unbelievably warm. She could faintly recall the smell of his shampoo—vanilla mint tea—and buried her face within her pillow, biting it out of frustration. He smelled so good. He smelled so good and he felt so soft and warm and he was wonderful but more importantly, he wasn't hers.

He'd never be hers.

And here she was thinking she was finally getting over him…

"Marinette? Are you okay?"

Lifting her face from her pillow, Marinette met the indigo eyes of her kwami, which were large and full of a thousand questions. She reached out to cup Tikki in her palm and lifted her to her face, where their foreheads brushed together in a moment of comfortable silence shared by kwami and holder. Tikki pressed a tiny paw to Marinette's cheek, and Marinette leaned into the touch, her breath hitching slightly as a sudden urge to cry welled up so powerfully inside of her that she didn't even have a chance to resist it before the tears began pouring down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, Marinette," Tikki soothed, wiping her tears. "It's okay. I know it still hurts."

Marinette shook her head. "I'm not crying because it hurts," she said. "I'm crying because I'm mad at myself. I thought I was making progress, and that I was getting over him, and I was finally feeling happy today, but..." A muffled sob fell from her lips. "But I still like him. I still—I still love him. No matter how hard I try not to."

Tikki said nothing. Instead, she nuzzled her Chosen's hand, gazing up at her with round, sad eyes.

"It sucks," Marinette spat. "This sucks. I'm trying to find a positive outlook on this. I'm trying to be optimistic, I am. But it's hard. It's hard and I just...I just want the feelings to go away, Tikki…" Her voice grew very, very quiet. "...why won't they go away?"

Mulling over her words, Tikki's antennae drooped as she offered her Ladybug a gentle smile. "Love is something incredibly difficult to erase, Marinette," she said in a calming tone. "You can't force feelings to go away, no matter how badly you want them to disappear. Whether you want them or not...your affections for Adrien are there. You can try to suppress them, and you can try to ignore them, but...in the end, time is the only way you can heal."

Marinette's lower lip trembled as she let out a small, broken whimper. "But it's been over a month, Tikki. I've had time, and I'm still finding myself as infatuated with him as I was the day he gave me that dumb umbrella." As if to make her point, she shot an icy glare at the umbrella propped in the corner of her room, hoping to intimidate it. "I fell so hard and so fast and I feel so- so stupid."

"Don't call yourself that," Tikki scolded, flitting up to stare Marinette in her swollen eyes. "You are not stupid, Marinette. You're a teenage girl that fell in love with a boy. You're not stupid for that."

Marinette gave a noncommittal mumble and turned her back away from her kwami, dragging her duvet over her head. "If I'm not stupid then this whole situation is just one big stupid mess."

"Stop saying that word. It's not nice."

Marinette offered nothing more than silence in response.

Tikki rolled her eyes at her Ladybug's stubbornness and placed her paws on her tiny hips, hovering above Marinette's head. "Marinette, come on. Don't be like this. I want to help you."

"I'm sulking."

"The Marinette I know doesn't sulk."

Marinette tightened the blanket over herself and muttered an unintelligible reply.

Tikki's expression flattened. "The Marinette I know takes any bad spot she's gotten herself into and turns it around to something positive. Don't let some boy make you sour."

Marinette huffed, sitting up and kicking the blanket off of her legs. "He's not just 'some boy,' Tikki, that's the problem! He's amazing and wonderful and he- he's such a great friend, a friend I fell in love with and can't seem to get over-"

A knock on her trapdoor startled Marinette enough to cause her to yell and send an unfortunate stuffed cat flying. Tikki zipped off to hide, leaving Marinette to climb down from her loft and open the door, expecting to see her parents calling her down for dinner, but instead-

Instead it was Alya, the smile on her face immediately falling as she was met with the dejected expression of her sniveling best friend. She wasted no time, practically leaping into Marinette's room as she wrapped her in the biggest bear hug she could muster, squeezing her tight and rubbing her back in slow, comforting circles.

"Girl, what's wrong?" Alya asked as she fixed her glasses, which had been jostled from the hug. "Did something happen today?"

Marinette simply nodded. She silently begged the tears to stop, but they kept on, rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto Alya's shoulder. She felt slightly guilty at soaking her friend's scarf, but Alya seemed to pay no mind, more focused on the fact that her best friend was crying than the dampness of her clothing.

"Come on," Alya said. She gave Marinette a gentle push, signaling that she wanted her to go up to her balcony for some fresh air. "Let's go up, and you can tell me all about it."

One blanket and a hot cup of tea later, Marinette settled into the lounge chair that sat on her terrace, frowning down at the mug in her hands. The sun had recently set, leaving a faint pink glow over the city's blue horizon. With the sun resting, a chilly breeze came out to play, ruffling Marinette's hair and causing her to shiver as she clutched the blanket around her shoulders.

Winter would be arriving soon. Cold, bitter winter. An awful season that made her slow and tired and icy.

(The only upside was seasonal treats at the bakery and the occasional cup of homemade cocoa. Oh, and Christmas, of course.)

Pressing her palms into the warmth of her lavender mug, Marinette's shoulders drooped. Her muscles relaxed as the heat ran up her veins and into her arms. With a slight frown she remembered her favorite mug that Chat Noir had clumsily broken, and was reminded that she was waiting on him to bring her a new one. If he still planned to.

Not that it mattered all that much. She had plenty of mugs.

Scowling, Marinette set the mug down on the floor and rested her chin in her palm. She felt angry. She felt angry and frustrated and mad, and she didn't really have much of a reason to other than the fact that she hated that she was still in love with someone who didn't love her back.

Tikki said that only time could rid her affections, yes, but how much time?

She didn't want to hurt like this anymore. She didn't want to love someone who- who loved someone else.

"'Nette, what's got you so peeved?"

Pausing her silent interrogation of an innocent rose, Marinette sighed, feeling her face soften at Alya's sympathetic gaze. "Myself," she muttered, crossing her arms. The blanket fell from her shoulders but she couldn't bother to care.

Alya leaned back against the terrace railing. "Why're you mad at yourself?"

Marinette shrugged and looked away.

"Marinette, come on," Alya said. She quirked a brow at her friend's silent response. "Tell me what's going on in that beautiful little head of yours. You know I'm here to listen."

"It's silly," Marinette murmured. She didn't meet Alya's eye.

"If it's bugging you, it's not silly."

"It's really nothing."

Alya frowned at that. "Now look who's in denial."

"It's just-" Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. The urge to sob rose up in her throat again, but she fought it down with a heavy swallow. "I'm still having a really hard time dealing with my feelings. Every day I think I'm getting better, feeling happier, and then all of a sudden I see him and my world is turned upside down, putting me back at square one."

The identity of "him" went unspecified. Both girls knew exactly who him was.

"You can't help how you feel," Alya said, softly. She walked over to Marinette's rose bush and ran a delicate finger over some of the petals, brow furrowed as she found herself deep in thought. "Feelings are dumb and complicated but they're always gonna be there. You can't be mad at yourself for having them, girl."

Marinette heaved a sigh and scrubbed at her eyes. Her makeup smeared over her knuckles again, but she didn't mind; this was only Alya. She'd seen her in worse states. "But I still love him, Alya. I still love him so much and it fucking sucks because he's got feelings for someone else and I don't even know who they are! What is it about me that he doesn't like? I'm cute, aren't I?"

Sucking her teeth, the corner of Alya's lips quirked up just a tad at her friend's question. "Of course you are, Marinette. You're the cutest person I know. But the thing is," she said, plucking a rose from the bush and placing it behind Marinette's ears. "I know it might not be fun to hear it, but you aren't exactly entitled to Adrien's feelings. I get it: you want to be mad at him. But you know you can't. He's not at fault for his feelings, and neither are you."

Tears pooled from Marinette's eyes and flooded her cheeks. "I know," she whimpered. "I know, I know. I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself and I'm frustrated because of how I still feel about him. I just wish-" she buried her face within her hands, and her voice cracked. "I wish he hadn't told me he likes another person. You know how I get jealous. I wish- I just wish it would have been me."

Alya's frown deepened at the sight of best friend, normally confident and optimistic Marinette, reduced to a puddle of sobs because of a boy. Oh, this sucked. This sucked a whole lot and it was going to take a lot of time for her wounds to heal.

"C'mere," Alya said. She lifted her friend from the chair and sat down with her in her arms, allowing Marinette to curl up in her lap and blubber onto her favorite scarf. Oh, well. It could be fixed with a simple wash.

Marinette, however…

Marinette needed a lot more than a simple fix.

"It's okay," Alya whispered, hands running up and down her best friend's sides. "It's okay, 'Nette. This'll all go away eventually."

"I just want it to all be over and done with," Marinette croaked. "I messed things up between Adrien and I, Alya. We can barely look at each other anymore. It's so awkward, and there's so much that goes unsaid, and I feel like our whole relationship has gone back to how it was when we were fourteen. I stutter and I try to run away as quickly as possible, and even when I tell myself that I need to stop, I can't help it."

Alya patted her back. "Why do you want to run away from him, Marinette? I'm sure he's hurting some, too. He probably misses being your friend."

"I…" Marinette paused for a moment. She blinked her wet eyes, sniffling as her vision grew bleary. "I'm afraid that being around him is just going to remind me that- that I'll never be anything more than a friend to him, you know? That someone else is better. That someone else has captured his heart in a way I can never dream to. That…" Her voice grew so quiet that Marinette herself couldn't even tell if she was speaking. "That whoever that person is better treat him like he's their whole world, because he deserves it. I don't want him to hurt like I am."

"Is this a bad time?"

Both girls snapped their heads up to see a very embarrassed looking Chat Noir propped up like his namesake on the railing of the terrace, one hand gripping the metal and the other holding up a black mug with green pawprints, wrapped in a pretty red bow.

"Wh-" Alya began to cough, choking on her own words. "Ch-Chat Noir!? What in the hell?"

Chat nervously scratched at the back of his neck, cheeks heated underneath his mask. "Okay, so I'll just leave this here and leave. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything-"

Marinette was standing now, wiping at her face with her arm. She didn't meet Chat Noir's eye, clutching the blanket around herself as she spoke in a voice so feeble it was nearly inaudible, "It's okay."

Chat Noir went to set the mug on the floor, but instead paused, his ears drooping atop his mop of blond hair and gentle eyes softening. He went to move towards her, but Alya took a hesitant step in front of her best friend, unsure.

Chat remained where he was. "Are you...okay?" he asked Marinette, reaching out a hand before thinking better of it and retracting it to his side.

Marinette shook her head. She took the mug from his hand, holding it to her chest and running her thumbs over the smooth edges, inspected it closely. After a dreadfully long moment of silence, her lips twitched upwards into a small, barely-there smile. Her eyes met Chat's. With a broken chuckle, she said, "Thank you."

Chat Noir returned her smile, just so. "N-no problem, Marinette. Sorry I broke your other one. I told you I would bring you a new one, didn't I?"

"You did," Marinette replied with a nod. She looked down to the mug again. "It's nice. I like it, thank you."

"He broke one of your mugs?" Alya cut in, hands on her hips. "Um, I love you, Marinette, but were you planning on telling me that literal superhero Chat-fucking-Noir came to your house one day, broke one of your mugs and offered to buy you a new one? Like, holy hell!"

Marinette laughed quietly. "I was going to talk to you about it today, actually…but then Dreamscape attacked, and…" Her thoughts wandered back to the place she'd taken a nap earlier in the day—to the face of the boy she'd come to love so much—and her heart ached. "And…I…"

Both Alya and Chat's eyes widened as Marinette suddenly broke down into another fit of tears, falling to her knees and hugging them tightly to her chest, mug still in hand.

"Hey, hey, Mari," Chat Noir consoled, immediately crouching down on the wooden flooring to hover his hands over her shoulders. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"She won't tell me the whole story," Alya said. "She's stubborn like that."

Marinette covered her face with the fuzzy pink blanket that had thus far been her protector, miserable whimpers seeping from her throat. "It'd be easier if there was something bad about him," she cried. "It would be easier for me to get over him that way. But he's so- so g-good. And he's such a nice person, so k-kind and wonderful and caring, and so beautiful, and- god." Her sobs were coming full force now, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Marinette," Alya said, her voice soft; comforting. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

Chat Noir went silent, his pupils thinning for just a split second before he looked away, guilt heavy in his gaze. Alya spared him a curious glance but said nothing more, instead wrapping her best friend up in her arms and resuming rubbing her back.

"Shh," Alya whispered. She pulled Marinette close, hugging her tight. "It's alright, girl. I'm here, I'm here."

"I just wish things were different...I wish..." Marinette sighed, stopping where she was. There was no use dwelling over "I wishes" and "what ifs." She just had to accept the present as it was and move on from it. It was the only way she could get better. She needed to stay optimistic.

Marinette's wracking sobs eventually subsided to a gentle snivel, her eyes swollen and red and face drenched with smeared makeup and tears. She felt quite embarrassed that Chat Noir had seen her that way...but then again, he had seen her bloody and beaten as Ladybug, so it wasn't much of a difference...

Speaking of Chat, he wasn't saying much, was he?

Looking up from her tear-stained blanket, Marinette met Chat Noir's gaze and nearly flinched at the amount of sadness that swam within it. He looked so...so down, almost as if...almost as if he was lost in regret.

Did he regret coming to see her tonight? She wouldn't doubt it. She was a mess. He probably felt awkward.

"I'm sorry you guys have to see me like this," Marinette said. She didn't exactly feel like she needed to apologize for her feelings, but for the crying...well.

"It's okay," Alya said once more. She looked tired; Marinette felt bad for keeping her. It wasn't exactly early anymore, and there had been a sleep-inducing akuma roaming the city earlier that day. Perhaps she should just pretend she was okay so Alya could go home and get some rest.

"Are you-" Chat spoke up but had to pause to clear his throat, as his voice had wavered. "Are you going to be okay, Marinette?"

Marinette looked down at her hands. Black was smudged across her skin. Was she going to be okay?

True, she had been through worse in life. She was Ladybug—defender of Paris. She'd been beaten down by villain after villain, suffered injuries and done back flips off of the Eiffel Tower with Chat Noir by her side. She had stopped petty crimes, plenty of robbers or gunmen, and had even been shot in the arm, once.

(Of course Tikki's magic had fixed that as soon as she'd thrown her Lucky Charm into the air, but she could still remember how much it had hurt. The suits didn't protect them from everything, after all.)

Was the pain of not having her feelings reciprocated more agonizing than a bullet to the arm? Was it really?

It wasn't. No way.

She would get through this with her head held high. Even if she had to cry every now and then.

She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Class president for two years and running, baker's daughter, winner of design competitions across Paris, and superheroine Ladybug. She would be just fine.

"Yes," she said confidently, using the blanket to wipe away her tears. "Yes. I'll be okay, Chat Noir. You don't have to worry about me." She looked to Alya, a hint of a smile toying at the corners of her lips. "And you don't have to either, Al. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. If I can jump off a building, I can handle heartbreak."

Alya seemed pleased with her statement for a moment before her face contorted with confusion, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "Excuse me? Jump off a building? Marinette, what the fuck? What do you do in your free time, parkour?"

Chat Noir's ears snapped up in surprise. "You shouldn't do that, Mari! You'll break a bone or something, oh my god! Just because Ladybug and I do it doesn't mean it's safe for you to!"

Marinette clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized her slip-up. Heh, that was two Ladybug-related accidents today…

"Joking!" she laughed, quite forcefully. "I was- I was, erm, joking...haha..."

Alya and Chat Noir shared a puzzled look before they gave in, somewhat convinced. They sat in a circle for a few moments, the terrace quiet save for the distant sound of cars whizzing along the street or the occasional group of people that walked down below. Chat's tail idly brushed the flooring as it swished back and forth, and Alya tapped her nails on the hardwood, before she cocked her head and frowned thoughtfully.

"Why do you call her that, by the way?" she asked, staring at Chat Noir.

Chat looked up from the streaks of wet makeup on Marinette's blanket. "Call who what?"

Alya glanced at Marinette before her eyes settled back on the black-clad superhero. "You call Marinette, 'Mari.' That was sort of a nickname someone else gave her."

Marinette glowered at that.

"Oh, um," Chat said, looking away. "I dunno, uh, I guess...cuz it fits? You know, shorten Marinette to Mari, just like you shortened it to 'Nette earlier, uh...nicknames. Cute." He offered a helpless (almost painful looking) shrug, and couldn't exactly hold his eyes on anything for longer than a second at a time.

"Oh," was all Alya could say.

Another silence passed between them, more awkward than the last.

"So how long have you two been like...visiting each other?" Alya asked.

"He doesn't visit me," Marinette answered quickly, hugging her knees. "He just passed by the other night and accidentally knocked my mug off of the railing."

Chat Noir shrugged helplessly and offered a strained chuckle. "Yeah…she threatened to hit me with a broom."

Alya immediately erupted into laughter, and Marinette snorted, giving Chat a light tap on the shoulder. "I did not!"

"I can see you doing that," Alya snickered, wiping a tear from her eye. "You'd totally whack someone with a broom."

Smirking, Chat Noir bumped Marinette's shoulder with his own, leaning down so that they were eye-level. Even when sitting, he was so much taller than her. "She wouldn't have the heart to injure a poor stray like me. Would you, Marinette?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Marinette retorted with a grin of her own, pushing his face away with a finger pressed to his nose. Chat laughed in response and shot her a toothy smile.

Alya narrowed her eyes at their behavior. To her, it seemed as if...as if they knew each other or something…

A weird feeling tugged at her stomach, but she elected to ignore it. That gesture was just a little too familiar for her tastes.

"Well," Marinette said after a moment. "I'm tired, and I need to eat dinner and take a shower. Alya, you can join if you want."

Chat Noir's face flushed and the brows of his mask shot up into his hairline. "Um-"

"She meant for dinner," Alya laughed, knowing what she'd meant. "Although if she was offering me to shower with her, I wouldn't say no. Girl's got a pink shower and the best smelling soap in the world. It's cute as hell."

Marinette grinned at Chat Noir's expression and rolled her eyes, opening up the latch of her trapdoor. "Goodnight, Chat Noir," she said, voice and eyes soft in thanks. "I love the mug, by the way. I think it's my new favorite."

Chat Noir's cheeks warmed at that, and a wide grin spread across his face.

As Marinette jumped down onto her bed and the door shut, Alya stood and placed her hands on her hips, regarding Chat with a smile. "It was kind of bad timing for you to stop by tonight," she chuckled, shaking her head, "but thanks. Marinette's been having a hard time lately and needs all the friends she can get. I think that mug cheered her up, too."

Chat Noir responded with a weak smile of his own, pushing himself to his feet and dusting off his backside. "Yeah...sounds like she's taking rejection pretty hard. Whoever hurt her must be a real asshole."

"He's not," Alya assured. She crossed her arms, unappreciative of the name he'd unknowingly given to one of her closest friends. "He's like a literal puppy—nicest guy in the whole world. She just...she just loved him a lot, you know? It was weird. They weren't dating, but she loved him like they were. I think that's why it's hitting her so hard...I don't think she ever thought he would have feelings for somebody else."

"O-oh," Chat whispered. His ears drooped and his tail sat still, dragging on the floor. "That...must be hard for her."

Alya nodded, but gave the superhero a wink, patting him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but she's the strongest girl I know. As strong as Ladybug, even. She'll get through this just fine."

Chat Noir swallowed and met her honey eyes, forcing the smile to stay on his face. "I hope so."

A quietude fell between them. Alya opened her mouth to say something more, but the sound of the trapdoor opening caused her to turn, Marinette's head poking out from the opening with a curious expression on her face.

"Alya, you coming?" she asked, face clean and rid of the black smudges from before. "My mom said there's dumplings and vegetables in the fridge if you want some."

Alya's stomach growled at the sound of dinner, and she nodded. "Coming, 'Nette," she said, before turning back to Chat Noir. "See ya, alley-cat. Say hi to Ladybug for me, will you?"

Chat nodded. His throat feeling tight. "I-I will," he said. "I'll do that. Goodnight."

And then he was gone, shakily vaulting over Marinette's terrace and into the dark of the night. Alya stood there for a moment longer, unmoving, mind reeling with thought after thought.

Chat Noir wasn't acting like himself...where was the cocky, arrogant cat that flirted with Ladybug and had an arson of puns at his ready?

He looked...sad. Hurt. Perhaps even a little regretful.

And since when were he and Marinette acting so chummy?

Humming thoughtfully, Alya turned and went to slip back into Marinette's room. Something was definitely off with that cat, and the reporter within her vowed do whatever she could to get to the bottom of it.