#i forgot about my little keychain of him until the lady complimented it.
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oh i got a compliment on my little julian keychain at the foodbank and remembered i am in fact into the arcana
#mun;;#tbd;;#i do love him.........#i remember it was my birthday when i finished his story and i cried when he said i love you lmao#this was years ago at this point#i also like lucio hes a real cutie#i forgot about my little keychain of him until the lady complimented it.#i told her i loved her sweater and she went 'thank you! i love your little guy!'
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A look into LadyNoir for my Reversal AU, The Other Way Around. You don’t really need to read the other parts to get this one :)
Title: The Other Way Around, Part 3 Pairing: Lovesquare (LadyNoir) Rating: G+ Word Count: 2.5K
The first time Marinette really interacted with a cat was at a friend’s house. She was six years old at her very first sleepover. Nervous and shy, she’d spent the majority of the evening worrying about what would happen once the lights were out. She’d never had to sleep through a night without her parents or family with her. No amount of cartoons or pillow fights could fully ease the fear of impending darkness.
The other three girls seemed totally adjusted and excited, but Marinette could hardly eat dinner even though it was pizza from their favorite spot. Then she nearly burst into tears at the table when they served the cookies her parents had sent with her, overwhelmed with missing them so badly. With her eyes stinging and her voice ready to cry out that they should call home to pick her up, Button the cat suddenly sprung onto her lap. She was a fluffy tan thing with two black dots going down the center of her back, hence her name. In that moment she looked just like a chocolate chip cookie, albeit one that blinked up at Marinette’s face with huge, adorable brown eyes. The cat smooshed her head against the girl’s stomach, sat down, and began to purr. In her surprise and fascination, young Marinette forgot what she was so upset over.
She never had pets growing up—the hair was too much to maintain when her family also lived in a bakery—so she hadn’t any courage to approach Button before, even when the other girls had spent time petting her. She knew cats had claws and their yawns revealed sharp, pointy teeth. The last thing she wanted was to get scratched or bitten when she was already terrified. Cats had been a scary mystery. Button was small and fluffy and warm. The moment she cuddled up to her, Marinette fell in love.
After that day, cats became her favorite animal, and while she still wasn’t allowed to have one (despite the begging and puppy eyes that her mother valiantly fought against with gentle reasoning), Marinette surrounded herself with them as a good luck charm. She had kitty keychains, plush toys, cat-covered folders to take to class, and cat-print bedsheets. The obsessive phase lasted for three years, but the fondness stayed even when her room took on a pink and floral theme to match her changing design aesthetic. Obviously when she found the giant body pillow shaped like a cat, she knew she had to have it anyway. After long days of dealing with Chloe’s yapping and her own special trademark combination of back luck and clumsiness, hugging that massive squishy cat became her ultimate comfort.
That was, until another cat fell into her lap. Well, crashed into her entire body was more what happened.
When she was gifted her miraculous, Marinette thought herself a poor fit for a superhero. She liked leadership positions and really didn’t have a big problem taking charge when needed, but saving lives was a ton of pressure. She’d thrown her yoyo randomly, not sure of a single move she made, and in doing so managed to tangle her partner and herself up despite the superpowers. Chat Noir seemed more natural, and surely he deserved a partner that had the confidence to match his skills instead of her. Marinette was stuck in her head with apprehension. She’d totally screwed up her very first mission by letting the akuma multiply instead of purifying it. She wasn’t excited to be a hero. She was terrified.
Maybe it was the cat bias that made her instantly trust Chat Noir, but it was the way he put his warm hands so squarely on her shoulders and assured her that she could do this, that made her fall in love. It was the second time a cat had saved her from giving in to her fears.
He gave her the courage to stand up to Hawkmoth, and the moment she vowed to take him down was a triumph of bravery. She wouldn’t have been able to do that without him.
Of course she fell for him.
He didn’t make it any easier for her as they got closer. He was just so endearingly sweet, throwing compliments at her all the time for encouragement.
If only she didn’t turn into an absolute pile of goo whenever he did. At least she was always able to pull herself together to get the job done, but it was his fault. What could anyone expect from her when her partner was talented, smart, super handsome, and somehow humble about all of it?
She’d witnessed how he avoided the spotlight in favor of checking up with akuma victims. She’d seen him time after time go out of his way to protect others, especially her, from harm’s way. And after he did all those things he’d throw her the credit as if she was the one saving the day.
They worked together well, reading each other’s moves and adapting to each other’s pace. But he never needed the attention, happy to just get the mission done. It was a side of him that she got to see when the crowds weren’t looking, proud at what they’d accomplished while holding his fist out to hers in solidarity to say, “We did it!” Together. Always together.
But then their miraculouses would beep, and they’d have to go their separate ways with her casting lingering glances towards whichever horizon he’d disappear off to.
At least during some of their mutual patrols they had time to talk. She looked forward to each one, no matter what other responsibilities she had waiting for her once it was over. Getting to know her partner was such a highlight to her identity as Ladybug. There was the triumph of victory, the thrill of the physics defying feats she could accomplish, the heartwarming gratitude of the citizens… and then there was this: sitting at the top of the Eiffel with their feeting dangling in the cool Parisian air, aimlessly talking above a safe city set aglow with evening lights; the warm sense of security yet tingling excitement of hanging out with her one and only crush.
“Favorite hot drink?” she wondered.
Asking non-identifying questions was their way of bonding without compromising themselves.
Chat Noir hummed thoughtfully over a cookie—raspberry macarons, a favorite she had learned fairly early on. “The hot chocolate you brought in the winter was great. Probably the best I’ve ever had, actually.”
She blushed and kicked her feet nervously. She swore that she would’ve tripped if they’d been walking. Somehow his compliments did that to her. “T-thanks.”
He grabbed another macaron and turned it over, studying the ruffled feet as he added, “Otherwise I’m really fond of tea. My mother liked English high tea; always insisted we have a tea break at some point in the day. When I was a kid I was only in it for the cookies and sandwiches, but at this point I like the drink too. It's nostalgic.”
He always got wistful when he spoke about his mother, but Marinette knew that train of thought would lead them to somewhere too personal. It wasn’t that she didn’t yearn to know more about him. Quite the opposite, but they both knew that it wasn’t safe yet. There had been too many close calls. She followed up with another question. “Any tea in particular?”
“Earl grey, usually. I’m a fan of London Fogs over coffee.”
She smiled down, looking at her home’s direction. They had a lovely macaron with that flavor as well, she thought. She could bring him a variety box next time. Maybe one day they could do tea together in some fashion. A picnic, perhaps? High tea during an evening patrol seemed a bit strange, but she could always brew him a decaf in a thermos so he wouldn’t be hopped up on caffeine. Or maybe that was too much if she was already bringing the same flavor in a cookie. Did hot chocolate go well with earl grey? What about the raspberry? Plenty of people ordered a variety of flavors all the time. Maybe she should throw in a few others for balance, like the rose ones. Wait, were rose flavored macarons too romantic? Would it seem like a date if she brought him flower-flavored food? Not that she didn’t want to date him because of course she did but—
“Deep in thought, Ladybug?”
Chat Noir’s twinkling green eyes greeted her, just a few centimeters from her face. He must have been trying to get her attention for a while.
Surprised, she suddenly scooted back and flailed. “Oh!” Thankfully she was securely seated on the beam enough to not begin a sad plummet to the ground. Desserts were well and good, but she’d prefer to avoid becoming a polka dotted pancake. “Yes, sorry! Did you say something?”
He laughed his magical laugh, accustomed to her tendency to get lost in her own head. “No need to apologize. I was just saying that it was my turn to ask a question before we turn in for the night.”
Ah, was it already time to go back? Sheepishly, the heroine smiled. “Did you already ask it?”
A flash of teeth showed off his mirthful grin. “I did.”
“Sorry.” He had already told her not to apologize, but it was embarrassing that she was fantasizing about dating him when he was literally sitting besides her. “What was it again?”
“I asked if you’ve been on a date lately, Little Lady.”
Oh.
Her mind short-circuited. Had she been babbling out loud? How desperate had she sounded? “What? Me! Doing to date you? I mean, going on a date with someyou? Someone!”
If her slip up meant anything, he didn’t acknowledge it. He never did. Did she want him to?
“Yep. Like a romantic one-on-one date. I, uh,” he bashfully scratched the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about it lately.”
A rush of blood warmed her cheeks. “Y-you were?” Thinking about dating someone? Her? Them? Romantically!
He avoided her eyes, choosing to look up instead as he laughed nervously. “For a while now. I don’t even think I could, but there’s a girl…”
I’m a girl, her brain supplied with excitement.
“You can’t ask her?”
He clicked his tongue. “There’s a few conflicts. First of all, I don’t know how she really feels about me, and… I don’t know how to say the other part without really giving anything away.”
Ladybug pursed her lips and gave him time, either out of courtesy or because she was freaking out and incapable of speech.
“Um, it’s like… an occupational issue, I guess. I don’t know if I’d be allowed, in a sense. Then there’s the issue that I know nearly nothing about dating,” he explained.
For all his vagueness, she fit his description enough. She’d never outright confessed to being in love with him, so he didn’t know her feelings. Also they weren’t really supposed to date with all their responsibilities, and wasn’t that just part of their job as heroes? So for all intents and purposes, Chat Noir really could have been talking about her. The possibility made her head spin.
Her hope was strung on a tightrope; a precarious position that could go either way. She could ask him directly if he meant someone in his civilian life or if by some miracle he was talking about her—or she could stay on the precipice between disappointment and bliss. But for all her clumsiness, Marinette preferred balance whenever she could manage it. So she stayed her course, eyes far from looking down at the possibilities and instead on the objective: answer him.
“I haven’t been on a real date recently, no.”
She looked for any hint about his feelings in his response, any indication that he was relieved or just pitied her. He simply nodded, leaving her clueless as she continued to walk the tightrope.
“Same,” he let out a whiny sigh. “I guess I can’t really ask for advice then. I’m terrible when it comes to romance.”
She traced one of her spots with a gloved finger, trying to keep a clear mind despite the slight relief that her crush wasn’t out on dates all the time. “I doubt it. You’re so amazing, you’d make any girl really happy and lucky to be with you.” Saying those words aloud had her face feeling as red as her suit.
“Luck is your department, LB,” he grinned. “I imagine admirers are chasing you left and right.”
“Not in any serious manner,” Adrien’s corny and outlandish attempts to get her attention came to mind. He was just a flirt by nature, hardly what someone would consider a real admirer. “I… I’d be happy to go on a date with somebody who really liked me though.”
He gave her a thoughtful look that made her pause.
She stood up suddenly. “I mean, not just anybody! Like… if I knew they actually liked me, then I might give it a chance? Depending on the person.”
Chat Noir smiled again, patiently letting her ramble as usual.
She took a deep breath to collect herself. “It doesn’t matter how experienced you are with dating, at least that’s what I think. If she’s a nice person then she’ll also understand and you’ll both get through it together. You just have to be yourself.”
“You’re right as always, Little Lady,” he sighed. Her stomach did a flip at the soft sound of his voice. “You know, you do give the best advice.”
Balance, she reminded herself. Tightrope.
But he spoke again, “I can always count on you to cheer me up if things go wrong, can’t I?”
The words were kind—like a soft breeze—which was just enough to throw off her careful, barely established balance; just enough information to tip her over to the fact that he must have been talking about some other girl if at the end of the day he could still find comfort in her, his partner.
And so she fell. Or, well, she’d fallen for him a long time ago. What did she expect? Something happier, she’d hoped. Something more similar to catching herself with her yo-yo, lifting back up to soar instead of her hopes tumbling down.
“Ladybug?”
She took a second to glance down at the ground where her heart felt like it had dropped. From their high position on the Eiffel, it was a long way down. For how much she loved him, she wasn’t sure just how her heart would break. Shatter like glass? Crumble to pieces? Or would it plummet and dent the floor because it certainly felt as heavy as lead when she turned to face Chat Noir, an achingly sweet melancholy painted on face as he smiled at her.
“Of course you can count on me. You and me against it all,” she assured, holding out her hand to help him up. It was time to go, after all.
He grinned as he stood, “Everything from akumas to heartbreak.”
She gave a weak laugh in reply. “Good night, Chat.”
“Good night, Little Lady.”
#miraculous ladybug#ladynoir#chat noir#ladybug#justafewsmallsteps#Jelly art#the other way around#Reversal au#Jelly fic
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