#adrinettemonthday12

[yunyin]

Adrinette Month Day twelve: Childhood friends

I am so glad I drew this in the stream last night, because I’m a bit under the weather today.

[amateurwordbender]

Luck

Adrinette Month Day 12: Childhood Friends

Yes, I know this is really late. (you know, I do cover first kiss, reveal, and proposal in this though, soooo does that count as being ahead?) Apparently it takes me a week to finish a one-shot. But hey, I think I actually managed to write some fluff for once so I’m happy.

ao3

~~~

They were four years old when she first met him.

She watched as he tugged a pretty lady into the bakery, a smile lighting up his entire face and making his eyes shine, his hair tousled from the summer breeze. Marinette was mesmerized by that smile, by those eyes, by the golden glint of his hair. The boy looked like a drop of sunlight that had landed on Earth and was delighted by the people who lived there.

The pretty lady that must’ve been the boy's mom struck up a conversation with her own mom, talking about needing things for something called a gala. The boy wandered from his mom’s side, gawking at the few handcrafted pastries displayed at his eye level. He stopped by a cake that had been baked and frosted to look like a cat and pressed his small hands against the glass. Marinette left her spot from behind the counter and tapped the boy on the shoulder.

"I helped with the decorating." She pronounced the word carefully, puffing out her chest.

"It's really good," the boy said solemnly.

"Thanks! I'm Marinette." She stuck out her hand for a handshake—something adults did when they met someone. He took it and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand—something princes did in storybooks. They both giggled.

"Marinette,” the boy echoed. “That’s a pretty name. I’m Adrien." He gave her one of those radiant smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Adrien.” She paused, glancing up to see her mom still in deep conversation. “Wanna come see where we make all this stuff?” He nodded eagerly. She pulled him past their moms and through the doorway to the kitchen.

His eyes grew, if possible, even wider. He took in the pans of cooling pastries, the cookies rising in the oven, the unfinished bowls of batter—her dad must’ve been taking a break—and inhaled slowly. Marinette watched him with a grin and pushed a stool to one of the counters. She clambered onto the stool and reached up to grab at one of the pans.

“Wow, this place smells even better than the other room. You’re so lucky to live in a bakery,” Adrien sighed. Marinette nodded in agreement and handed him a profiterole.

~

They were eight years old when he had his first fight with her.

Laying beside his best friend on her bed, Adrien stretched his arms with a contented yawn. They’d propped open the trapdoor leading to her balcony so that the sun could warm their faces.

“So, how ‘bout you? Do anything cool while I was on vacation?” Marinette broke the comfortable silence.

Adrien shrugged. “Not really. Well, there’s one thing. Father had one of his dinner parties and I think I made a new friend.” He turned his head to look at Marinette, a shy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

“That’s great! Who?”

“Her name’s Chloé Bourgeois. Her father’s planning on running for mayor, and she’s… Mari, what’s wrong?” She’d sat up on the bed with a scowl.

“Chloé Bourgeois. She’s your new friend?” Marinette climbed off of her bed and down the ladder that led to the lower part of her room. Adrien followed her, brow furrowing.

“Yes?”

“This girl.” Marinette had opened a yearbook and she shoved it at him, jabbing a finger at the picture of a smug-looking girl in a yellow dress.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“You can’t be friends with her.”

He stared, expression slowly darkening. “Why not?”

“She’s the worst, Adrien! She’s mean and selfish and a bully, and all she cares about is her dad’s money and her clothes and her hair,” Marinette insisted. Adrien placed the yearbook on her desk and folded his arms.

“Have you ever actually gotten to know her? She’s not like that.” Sure, Chloé might’ve seemed a little self-centered or shallow, but she grew up with an influential father and the media scrutinizing her every move. She had to adapt in her own way. Adrien could relate.

“Have you actually gotten to know her?” Marinette countered. “You only met her once!” “So you can go to school and have other friends but I can’t make a friend unless you approve of her?” Adrien’s voice rose as he pulled out one of his father’s favorite words and felt his breath catch in his throat.

“It’s not like that at all!” she protested, stomping her foot in frustration. “I’m trying to protect you! You don’t get it—”

“What, because I’m shut up in my house all the time I don’t get other people? I don’t need your help or your protection, Marinette.” He turned his back on her, storming to the trapdoor on the floor. “You’re just jealous that Chloé’s more… more…” He couldn’t bring himself to say something irreversibly awful, fuming as he was. He turned back around, chewing on his lower lip. “I’ll prove you wrong. I’m gonna get to know her and prove that she’s a better friend than you are.”

She scoffed, face flushed scarlet and eyes shooting daggers. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

He lowered himself out of her sight and slammed the door behind him.

~

They were thirteen years old when she joined him in the spotlight of fame.

“One minute to go!”

“Thanks, I didn’t know,” Marinette said drily, her eyes never leaving the analog clock mounted above the main doors of the Agreste mansion.

“Mari, you’ll be fine. You just need to click a button a couple times to show off your amazing work and answer a few easy questions.” She couldn’t understand how Adrien was so calm. Then again, he wasn’t the one about to be released to a crowd of reporters.

Having been the youngest designer to have ever signed onto a partnership with the Gabriel brand, dozens of news outlets had been clamoring to interview her. Of course, it wasn’t an actual partnership in the official sense of the word. Marinette wasn’t considering starting her own brand quite yet, but some of her designs would be featured and released with Mr. Agreste’s company.

Nathalie had arranged a press conference for her, and she was now placating the reporters gathered outside the Agreste mansion while the Gorilla set up a screen for Marinette to debut a few of her designs.

“Easy questions like what?”

“Probably stuff like how you got interested in fashion, when you started designing, how my father discovered you, et cetera.” Marinette was too nervous to tease him for saying ‘et cetera’ aloud. “You’ll do great. And if anything doesn’t go perfectly, Nathalie and the Gorilla will be out there with you, and I’ll be right here.” She felt him squeeze her shoulder lightly. “You do want to do this, right?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” she breathed to Adrien for the hundredth time.

“Don’t thank me; Father would have reached out to you when he saw your designs even if you didn’t know me.” He’d also told her this about a hundred times, but she still found it hard to believe.

Before she could protest, the door cracked open, and Nathalie leaned her head into the foyer.

“You can come meet the press whenever you’re ready.”

Marinette squeaked and glanced at Adrien.

“Go ahead,” he beamed.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” she whispered, giddy with nerves and delight.

“It’s not luck, Mari. It’s talent.” His eyes were brimming with pride. Giving a solemn nod in return, she squeezed his hand and stepped out of the mansion to meet the flashing lights.

~

They were fourteen years old when he stopped talking to her.

He hadn’t checked his phone in six days. It sat on his desk, still plugged in and charging, buzzing occasionally to be completely ignored.

Adrien had hardly moved for six days. Stare at the ceiling, pick at the food Nathalie brings, stand under hot water in an imitation of a shower, ask to see Father to no avail, grapple with exhaustion versus the terror that if he fell asleep he would wake up to find everyone else gone. Repeat.

Were we not good enough for you? No, it hurt too much to entertain the possibility that his mother was gone because she had chosen to leave them. Then again, maybe that was better. Maybe if she’d simply left because she was sick of her husband and son and her life in this prison of a mansion, she was safe and happy and restarting her life somewhere else. Maybe that possibility was better than one where she was injured or in danger or—

Father said she wasn’t dead. In the few words he’d spoken since Arielle’s absence had been discovered and before he’d locked himself in his room, he’d made that clear with no room for debate. Arielle was simply missing. Which meant throwing money at the best resources in the world could bring her back.

Six days had passed. There’d been no news. Tomorrow, it would be a week since Adrien last saw his mother.

Adrien curled up on top of the covers of his bed as his phone began buzzing again. It was probably Marinette. Chloé had given up on contacting him a few days ago. He didn’t blame her.

He wasn't intentionally shutting them out. Lord knew he didn't have many people in his life already; the last thing he wanted to do was lose more of them. But he didn't want to hear condolences when he himself was still figuring out if he should mourn.

There was a knock at the door, and Adrien hated himself for momentarily hoping that it was his mother.

“Come in.” His voice was hoarse with disuse.

Nathalie walked in, carrying a gift box with her. Adrien sat up, the hollowness blanketing his every muscle and bone briefly receding as he took the box from her with a hint of curiosity.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng left this for you. She wanted me to tell you that she understands that you need space, but she’s there whenever you want to talk.” Before Adrien could stammer his gratitude, Nathalie left the room without another word.

Adrien lifted the top of the box, the smell of one the places he loved most in the world immediately wafting into his room. Inside, there was a small assortment of his favorite pastries from Tom and Sabine’s bakery. He still wasn’t hungry, but the sight of each handcrafted sweet brought him back to afternoons spent with Marinette, laughing over nothing and everything as they acted as official taste-testers. Something was stirring in his chest.

Separated from the pastries, there was another small box with a note attached.

Keep her close until she returns. You are never ever ever alone, Adrien. I’m here as soon as you’re ready. ♡

An oval silver locket rested on the padded lining of the box, and he opened it with a quiet snap. One window was left blank. A candid photograph of him and his mother was nestled in the other. Adrien had never seen the picture before; one of Marinette’s parents must have taken it that time they’d insisted on taking him and his mother on a trip to the mountains with them. He and his mother were talking about something with identical grins, her hand ruffling his hair. It was such a small photograph, but the love in her eyes was clear. Adrien closed the locket and held it to his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

He would rise above this. Grief would not take him like it took his father. This… this bad luck wouldn’t break him or dictate his choices.

He reached for his phone.

~

They were sixteen years old when she first kissed him—well, for real.

“I am so ashamed of us. We’ve known each other for, what, twelve years now? And it took us over a year for us to find out?”

Marinette shook her head in bemusement. “Guess we’re even more oblivious than our friends.” They were sitting on the low wall that bordered one side of her balcony, enjoying ice cream, the good weather, and their newfound knowledge that Ladybug and Chat Noir had known each other years before they’d received their miraculouses.

“To be fair, the miraculouses do mask your identities with more than just the physical mask. Magical interference is why facial recognition technology—and human facial recognition—doesn’t work. Unless there’s some big event or realization, miraculous holders usually find out their partners’ identities by telling each other,” Tikki piped up. She and Adrien’s kwami, Plagg, were sitting on the railing at the front of her balcony, each munching on their respective delicacies of choice and supposedly catching up. It looked more like bickering to Marinette, but apparently it was a typical heartwarming sibling reunion.

“So… a big event like me asking to borrow a pen from Adrien and finding a kwami in his bag.”

Plagg glared at Adrien. “So you’re the reason she interrupted my nap.”

“Hey, I was running on very little sleep and totally forgot you were in there,” Adrien said defensively. Marinette grinned.

“I’m glad you forgot. This is perfect, isn’t it?” She popped the remains of her ice cream cone into her mouth and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. It’s so fitting that I still can’t believe we didn’t find out sooner,” he murmured. There was a soft crunching as he finished his own cone. He rested his head on hers. “Mari?”

“Yeah?” “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but I’ve liked you for a while now.” She froze. Both of them straightened almost in unison, and she looked at him with wide eyes. Could he possibly mean what she thought he meant? The thought that her feelings for him might have been reciprocated…

“And I’ve actually been wanting to ask you out, but one thing was stopping me. I couldn’t sort out my feelings for you and Ladybug, because I liked her too. But now that I know you’re the same person… “ he let out a small, nervous laugh. “Do you want to go out with me sometime? As more than friends?”

Her brain was short-circuiting. “I—”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Adrien rushed to say when she couldn’t get her mouth to blurt the answer she was screaming in her mind. “I don’t want this to change anything if you don’t feel that way about me. I’ll be fine if you don’t, please don’t feel obligated to—”

She stopped him. By pressing her lips to his.

Adrien made a little noise of surprise—or it might’ve been her; she didn’t know what had come over her—but he didn’t pull away, the touch of his lips soft and hesitant and making her feel more complete than she ever imagined such a simple gesture could. Her hands circled to rest behind his neck, and the kiss deepened, still gentle but full of a passion and honesty that had seemingly always been there, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

It felt like both an eternity and an instant later when she broke the kiss, their mouths remaining only a centimeter apart.

“I’d love to,” she said, a little breathless as she rested her forehead against his. “Sorry, was that okay?”

“My lady, I’ve wanted this for longer than you could ever know.”

Marinette thought she heard Tikki cooing.

She felt like the luckiest girl in the world, which she supposed was true. She was Ladybug, the superhero that embodied good luck. But this was so much more than that.

~

They were nineteen years old when he almost lost her.

Usually, finding out that your father was a supervillain was a devastating revelation. Adrien barely cared. As his father was whisked off by police to spend most likely the rest of his life behind bars, all he could think about was Marinette.

And the wound in her side that was wouldn’t stop gushing blood.

He stayed in the back of the ambulance with her, holding onto her as she drifted in and out of consciousness, then spent two nights waiting in the hospital before he was allowed to see her.

A nurse gave him a comforting pat on the arm, and opened the door for him to be reunited with his lady.

She was pale, her smile tremulous, but she was sitting up, and her lips were forming his name. Adrien choked on a sob and rushed to her side, his ears ringing.

“Marinette, Marinette, Marinette,” he whispered desperately, gripping her hands in his as if he letting go would result in her going cold and still and lifeless again.

“I’m okay, kitty. It’s over. Hey, we did it.”

“We defeated Hawkmoth. We saved Paris,” he agreed. They shared a glance, and then they were both laughing, wheezing giggles and clutching at each other in hysterical relief that the fight was finally won.

His father was a lost cause now, Marinette would have a scar across her torso for the rest of her life, and both of them would need an indeterminable amount of time to move past the ordeal of the final battle. But they had each other. They were going to be okay.

The doctors said it was a miracle she’d recovered, said she was lucky to be alive. Adrien knew luck had nothing to do with it. He knew his lady. She’d fought until she’d pulled through.

~

They were twenty one years old when she chose him forever.

It was really just for old times’ sake that they did this. With Hawkmoth gone, there were no supervillains to track and no akumas to watch out for, so patrols were largely unnecessary. Ladybug and Chat Noir could help prevent or stop a few small crimes here and there, but Parisian law enforcement was fairly adequate at its job. Thus, when the city’s favorite heroes could be seen darting across the rooftops at ungodly hours of the night, it was usually because they were taking a break from the stresses of university and adulting rather than being dutiful vigilantes.

Ladybug paused across from Chat’s dorm until she saw him leap out of his window and join her.

“Good evening, my lady. You look absolutely spot-tacular tonight,” he said with a sweeping bow.

“You will never outgrow that, will you?” She didn’t bother to keep the fondness out of her tone.

“No, Bugaboo, it’s a purrennial gift of mine.”

“Ooh, perennial? Someone’s been thesaurus-ing the hell out of an essay.”

Chat gave a gasp of mock offense. “I can use big words in my puns.” They set off at an easy pace, flipping from rooftop to rooftop in perfect tandem.

“Sure, kitty.” The end of her yoyo wrapped around a beam of the Eiffel Tower, and she tightened her grip before swinging over to their usual spot on the national landmark.

Chat Noir dropped down beside her. “My pun game is inimeowtable.”

“Mm, that one was definitely a stretch.”

Ladybug leaned against an iron beam, letting herself become lost in the expanse of the clear midnight sky. There was a full moon tonight, and it seemed if she reached out a hand her fingertips would brush its shining ivory surface.

A flash of green light interrupted her stargazing, and Ladybug turned to see Adrien detransformed and still standing dangerously close to the edge of the landing. 

“Hey, careful! What are you doing? If you fall—”

“I won’t. And you’d catch me.”

Ladybug watched curiously as Adrien took a deep breath.

“So, um. You know what else is inimitable? Perennial? You and me.”

She couldn’t stifle a giggle. “As much as I appreciate that, and I agree with you and love you and you know that… what?”

“Okay, maybe I should’ve thought this through a little more,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. But then he cleared his throat and dropped his hand, features turning serious once more.

“Mari, I’ve loved you for every second that I’ve known you. You were my first and best friend, and then my partner in… well, partner in stopping crime, and now… you’re so much more than that. You’ve been there for me whenever I needed you, and I hope I’ve been able to do the same. You understand me better than anyone else in the world, and I trust you, admire you, adore you more than anyone else in the world. I would do anything for you. And nothing would make me happier than to be able to spend the rest of my days with you.”

All mirth faded from her expression as he got down on one knee. A lump formed in her throat, and her hands shook as she brought them to her chest. She didn’t register herself detransforming until Tikki floated to her shoulder. Marinette met those green eyes that she had been enthralled by seventeen years ago, and she saw seventeen years of memories with the person closest to her soul reflected back at her.

“Marinette, will you marry me?”

The ring glittered under the glow of the moon. She felt tears prickling in her eyes.

“Yes,” the word rushed out. “Yes, oh god, Adrien, I—I love you too,” she cried, and found herself clutching at his hands to pull him to his feet. He slipped the ring onto her finger, then pulled her into his familiar embrace. Something clicked inside her.

It wasn’t luck that they’d been brought to this moment. It was fate.

[powerdragonmoon]

The Warmth of Your Hand

Some brief moments and glimpses of figure skater Adrien Agreste's life growing up.

Birthday One-shot for the one, the only @qookyquiche!! Happy Birthday!!!! hope you had a fabulous birthday and that you rocked your presentation!!

(ao3 link)

She asked for it, and for some reason I made it a figure skating//hockey AU BECAUSE OF REASONS – but here you are my dear: A Childhood Friends AU (seriously tho, look at her cute childhood fluff art, LOOK AT ALL HER ART!!! ITS AMAZING!!)

Also this falls into Adrienette month, so I’m tagging it as a late day 12 prompt!! Enjoy!

Adrien couldn’t remember the first time he walked. Sure his parents had shown him the pictures and the slightly out of focus videos of him as a toddler taking his first steps, but he was much too young to remember such events.

The first time he placed his foot on this ice, though, well that he remembered.

When he stepped on the ice, for that first time, his small mitten-clad hand was held firmly in the warm caress of his mother’s. She stared down at him with a bright beaming smile as together they caught their balance on the slippery rink surface.

Of course they also had video of this too. His father had watched from the stands, recording the whole adventure as Adrien clutched onto his mother for dear life. She skated backwards with ease, her two hands holding Adrien’s as she pulled him along, taking them both gliding across the ice. In the video footage you could hear Gabriel’s deep, soft laugh as he watched his wife and son clumsily make their way around.

Years, later watching those videos were one of the few pieces Adrien would have left of the family he once had. One where his mother was there, holding his hand and his father was present and smiling.

It wasn’t until his third lesson that he met her.

Well, not so much met her as collided with her.

He had gotten to the rink early that day meaning he was the first to get on the ice, as he usually was. His mother was up in the stands smiling as he warmed up.

But despite his skills, he was still somewhat hesitant about the whole ordeal. He was so used to having someone’s hand steadying him, and it made him anxious to drift too close to center ice. So there he was, hand still tentatively grazing the boards of the ice’s perimeter, ready to stop himself or use the solid walls as leverage should he need help to stop.

Then suddenly a whoosh of air past by him, he looked up to see a small figure sped past him a light giggle filling the air behind her as she glided around the ice.

Eyes wide Adrien tracked her as she easily completed a lap in a third of the time it would take him. Clad in thick black leggings, a bright red tutu, and a pale pink jacket, the girl’s dark black hair was parted into cute pigtails, her bangs fluttering against the wind as she glided. She pushed off the ice forcefully, her arms swinging with great abandon. With each passing lap, her speed seemed to increase.

Adrien smiled watching her seem to let herself loose on the ice. She gave out a whoop of delight, pausing in her strokes to simply sail, her hands raised up to feel the breeze of her own momentum. Her eyes closed, looking at peace.

He didn’t even register that he was standing awestruck and still, directly in her path, until it was too late.

Both children released twin squawks as the girl crashed into him. In a pile of limbs, they feel onto the ice, sliding slightly on the slippery surface.

“Oh! Sorry!” the girl peeped, shifting her arm out from underneath him.

She quickly and easily got back onto her feet. Adrien himself was a little too shellshock to recover quite as quickly. He timidly got up to his knees, trying his best not to slip.

“Here,” said the girl, her voice drawing his eyes upwards.

She held out a hand, an offer of assistance.

“I’m – um,” the girl pouted her mouth, trying to find her words, “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t really watching where I was going… I guess… But here! Let me help you up!”

She reached forward with both hands held out in front of her.

Her gloves were mismatched. That’s what he remembered.

She wore a black glove with red polka dots, on one hand, while the one on her other hand was a shock of bright pink.

His eyes flickered, looking back and forth from her gloves and back up to her face.

Across her checks and nose, she had freckles. Her eyes were a beautiful blue and after another beat of silence, her brows creased, mouth pouting in confusion.

“Oh!” Adrien shook himself from the awe struck upon his face, “No! I’m sorry; I was in your way!”

He gladly placed his hands in hers and together they were able to haul him off the ice – although he had to admit it was mostly her doing.

“Ummmm… Thank you,” he said once he was rebalanced.

She smiled, her eyes closing in delight.

“It’s no problem!” she said, “Do you wanna skate with me?”

Adrien frowned, “I’m not as fast as you…”

Her head tilted to one side, a small smile still lingering on her face. “That's ok! I’ll race you next time. For now we can just practise!”

She held out a fist towards him and he stared at it with bewilderment. He held his hand out as if to shake, but he paused unsure.

She giggled. Together they both blushed.

Grabbing his hand with both of hers she brought his fingers together into a fist. Smiling wide she brought her own fist up to his and knocked against it gently.

“There!” she declared with a triumphant grin that Adrien couldn't help but share.

Together they started skating across the ice. She was obviously holding back, gently keeping pace with Adrien. But he didn't mind. He enjoyed the companionship… his own self-made friend.

“Oh!” She paused, slowing down, Adrien struggled to stop himself, and his legs shaking as he pushed on his outside edges. His arms flailed as he lost his balance again.

Before he fell backwards though, the girl grabbed his arm, steadying him.

“Oop! Sorry, I just… well I’m Marinette!” she smiled; one of her hands holding his arm released him to point towards herself. Her other hand remained at holding his arm just above his elbow, as if afraid he would fall if she let go.

“Adrien!” he almost shouted, “I mean! My name is Adrien.”

They shared a smile and her hand slipped down his arm to hold his hand.

At the same time they both spoke, “It’s nice to meet you!” Before they both broke out in laughter and continued their skating, gliding hand in hand. Eventually, they were joined by the rest of the students and the lesson began.

From the sidelines his mother snapped as many pictures as she could.

Over the first few weeks of lessons, he and Marinette became fast friends, in the way that only young children could manage. He quickly learnt that Marinette was not interested in figure skating, rather, that she wanted to be a hockey player. Her parents had told her though that in order to do so, she should build up a strong foundation of skating, hence the lessons.

She had been quite against the idea, since she already felt herself to be quite a strong skater and had ended up missing the first two lessons due to her own stubborn tantrums. But now it seemed that she seemed to be enjoying herself.

As it turned out, a lot of the children enrolled in the class were in the same boat: future hockey players.

Even Marinette’s father had taken figure skating up at a young age, which you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him. He was a large, giant man and Marinette spoke of his glory days as a hockey player often.

Likewise, Adrien was following in the path of his parent. His mother was quite a well-known figure skater before she had retired just before her marriage to his father. He grew up accompanying her to the ice rink, where she still trained on and off, sometimes consulting and coaching other skaters. Adrien would watch as they spun on the ice, twirling in lovely formations and leaping into the air.

He loved it.

But he still wasn’t nearly as good.

So he worked hard. Practicing and training daily, and receiving extra tutelage, until he got to resemble more and more how his mother danced on the ice.

Where he was grace, Marinette was strength.

And if anyone tried to make fun of Adrien for being one of the only boys who was there just to figure skate, Marinette was there to stick up for him.

He hadn’t touched the ice in weeks.

The only reason he was here was because he had promised her… but of course that was before…

Still, he had asked Natalie, and she arranged for his driver to take him, and he was at an arena, staring down at the ice from the stands. The glassy sheen off the surface matched the glaze across his green eyes. He sniffed at the cold air filling his lungs and quickly realized his mistake.

He wasn’t ready.

But before he could voice his concerns to his driver, the players took to the ice and he quickly recognized her pigtails peeking out from under her helmet.

And so he watched the game, he was quickly joined by her parents, who found him in the crowd, and for a short hour and a half he was distracted from his grief.

It wasn’t until a few months later that he put his skates back on. He had long ago learnt how to tie them for himself and he was more than old enough to do so. But he thought of his mother lacing them for him, of his father counting along with him as each crisscross and it made him sad.

He remembered his father’s deep laugh, them all holding hands and walking to the ice.

He sat there for a while, with just one skate on, until a knock on the door, shook him from his thoughts.

“Adrien?” she called softly, opening the door slightly, “Can I come in?”

“Mmm,” he replied.

She settled beside him, not saying anything for a long time. They simply sat there in silence.

Slowly, her hand reached for his, enveloping his hand in her gloved hand. This time her gloves matched, she had knitted them herself, a pale pink pair for herself and a pretty blue for him.

She leaned against his side, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“We don’t have to skate today,” she whispered, crosses her clunky skates out in front of them.

He huffed a slow, deep breath before replying with a soft, “Okay.”

He tilted his head, settling against her dark, black hair. She squeezed his hand as a tear streaked down his face.

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m still sore from that game last week… Did you see that hit I got?”

He chuckled.

“And the referee didn’t even call that!” she scoffed, still holding his hand, “I mean…? Really?”

He smiled, sniffling slightly. After a beat of silence, he replied, “Yeah, what the puck?”

She snorted, her hand squeezing his once more.

They sat there, giggling, until their tears of grief bleed into tears of laughter.

The next week he was back on the ice, holding her hand.

It was his first time back in Paris in years.

He glanced down at his phone, still no reply. But he automatically moved in the direction to their ice rink.

It had been about seven years since Adrien had moved to train overseas. He and Marinette had kept in contact over emails, messaging, and the rare phone call, but over the years things had gotten in the way. He was competing and constantly travelling and she eventually graduated school and was accepted to play hockey at a university in Canada. With their busy schedules and time zone differences, communication had become more and more scarce.

All this had culminated to today, where Adrien had returned for a quick offseason vacation, back to his hometown for a stay longer than a few days, while Marinette had returned home for her summer break.

They had planned on meeting at one of their favourite cafés from their younger years, but Adrien was just too excited. He quickly sent her a text that he was going back to their rink and if she was free, to join him.

Still with his small roller luggage and fresh off a 12-hr flight, he didn’t think to waste time stopping of at home, where he was sure no one would be there anyway. He had his skates; he was set.

He walked into the arena, making his way to deposit his bags into the locker room when he realized the ice was already occupied.

It looked like an impromptu game of hockey scrimmage; players all wearing various jerseys, some layered with bright red pinnies.

Adrien smiled, deciding to find a spot in the stands to watch, much like he did when he was younger, watching one of Marinette’s many winning games.

He glanced back down at his phone, checking to see if she had replied yet. No reply. He shrugged; she must be busy.

And so he watched the game, the players all seemed fairly good, seeming to have a good time but still make it a challenge for everyone. Adrien still couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the violence of some of the hits. Especially since some of the players weren’t wearing full protective gear.

One player in particular, who did have a cage covering their face, seemed to use the extra protection as an excuse to wipe the ice of every player that was on the opposite team. Clad in a red vest overtop their jersey and a black ‘C’ etched on in tape, the player skated quick across the ice, showcasing their stick and puck skills, easily weaving around the other team.

Adrien raised his eyebrows after the player scored their third straight goal, impressive.

Woah, he thought, clapping lightly as the player lunged into yet another celebratory pose, holding their hockey stick like a bow and miming the action of shooting arrows all around. That guy is really good.

And then, eventually the final whistle was blown; surprising Adrien at how fast the time had flown. He checked his watch. He may just have enough time to skate before he was set to meet up with Marinette. Which reminded him! He looked down at his phone, still no reply.

Sighing, Adrien glanced back at the ice, where the teams were lined up and pounding gloves together. He watched as most of the players relieved themselves of their helmets. And he gasped.

The player with in the red... 

That was no guy. That was Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

She was older, but he could still recognize her, her blue eyes and dark black hair that shined blue in the evening light. But now instead of being held back into her signature pigtails, her hair was cut short, possibly shorter than Adrien’s. Still slightly shocked, he had to admit that the pixie hairstyle looked rather nice on her.

Not even realizing it, Adrien found himself at the boards, staring at her as she laughed with her teammates. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own and had dragged him down to be closer to her.

After a moment, he caught her eye from the sidelines.

“Adrien?!?!”

It took him another two years before he could muster up the courage to ask her out. He liked to blame it on their conflicting schedules, but luckily one winter week they found themselves both in the city of Montréal.

Their first date?

Skating of course.

She held his hand, her large fluffy mittens like a tiny pillow in his palm. “Of course the one week you’re here, and it rains,” she giggled, scrunching her nose as light drops of rain tickled her skin.

“What can I say?” he shrugged, “I bring the good luck with me wherever I go.”

“Pffftttt,” she scoffed, “It that sarcasm, mister gold medalist?”

He laughed, slightly bashful. “No… My Lady, never…” he said as he stared up into the cloudy night sky, “perhaps it’s your luck then that we have to blame for this unfavourable weather.”

She feigned offence, quickly dropping his hand and skating ahead of him, her hands crossed and chin up in the air in defiance.

He chuckled. At the sound she spun around, playfully glaring at him with her bluebell eyes. She continued skating, backwards now, just an arms length in front of him. In the evening light her eyes flashed brightly, reflecting the Christmas lights decorating the scene.

He blushed.

And he stumbled.

It seemed that the sudden downfall of rain had affected the conditions of the outdoor rink, causing various patches of slush to bloom across the surface of the ice, impeding the skill of even the most highly skilled skater, Adrien Agreste included.

He stumbled forwards, blushing even deeper in a mixture of humiliation and slight love-struck embarrassment.

But he was saved from complete disgrace, as he contemplated returning every single figure skating accolade he had accumulated throughout the years as payment for tripping on ice, by a pair of strong arms that kept him upright. His hands naturally feel on her shoulders, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him steady. He face landed into the nook between her neck and collarbone, caught in the soft cushion of her scarf. He could feel the tickle of her hair against his cheek. Even in the cold, drizzling rain, he felt like he was on fire.

Her mouth so close to his ear, he could easily hear the muffled sounds of her giggle. Leaning back and straightening up, he looked down at her with an embarrassed smile. Her arms stayed wrapped around him.

“Sorry,” he chuckled awkwardly, “it was a bit slippery there.”

“Adrien,” she deadpanned, “We’re on ice. It’s slippery everywhere.” 

But she quickly dropped her stern demeanour, and a lovely smile lit up her face. 

“Right, right,” he replied, clearing his throat, trying his best not to meet her glaze.

“Adrien?”

“Hmmmmm?” he replied, looking down at his skates.

At the soft touch of her glove against his face, he tore his gaze back to her. She was looking at him, watching him with care, a pink blush adding to the clusters of freckles across her cheeks.

Oh…

“Well,” she whispered, leaning in closer, she rose up slightly higher towards him on the tips of her blades, “Looks like I’m the lucky one, huh?”

He titled his head in question.

But before he could voice a reply, she leaned further in, pulling him gently down until their lips met.

Perhaps they were both the lucky ones.

The first time she stepped on the ice, he held her hand. Her small hand was easily wrapped up in his much larger one. He smiled. She was so tiny. Probably even younger than he was when he first stepped on the ice.

On her other side, her left hand was held in the palm of his wife. He stared at her, meeting her deep blue eyes and winked. She laughed at him, reaching over to boop his nose. The action only made him laugh along with her, her fluffy gloves sending tickling sensations up and down his spine. He held back a sneeze.

Together their laughs were quickly joined by the little girl in between them, she seemed elated as she concentrated on keeping her balance.

“Look Mommy! I’m doing it!! Daddy!! Do you see?”

He did see. Smiling he nodded along with Marinette as they cooed over their daughter and her amazing feat.

He saw them. The two greatest loves of his life and he smiled.

OH! DID I FORGET TO MENTION THIS WAS A MARRIED AU!??! BECAUSE BOOM!!! >:D

Qooky mentioned her love for her childhood friends and married AUs SO I DECIDED TO DO BOTH!!! ^^ with a bit of my usual sports au spin!! (pls see her amazing Married AU fic = It’s An Effort – although duh, who hasn’t??!?! – it’s amaze and her art?!?! BEAUTIFUL!)

[iceandtheworld]

Luck of My Life

So I finally had the time to make it… Here’s chapter 1 of the childhood friends AU idea I had before- just in time for day 12 of adrinette month! <3 These kiddos are 9 in this chapter. 

Chapter 1

Adrien couldn’t stop crying as he stared at the remains of his toy in his shaking hands. This was the third time this week. He so badly wanted to scream, but he was worried that it would attract more attention. He may be allowed to cry, but he drew the line at wailing. He was an Agreste, he could stay strong. No one needed to know what he could do.

His sniffling sounds brought over his mother though.

“Oh kitty,” she said soothingly. “Don’t cry. I’ll buy you a new one. You can control it next time.”

He gave her a sad look that displayed all the longing he had to be normal. “But mama, I can’t! I’ll just destroy it again. I’m a monster.”

His mother gently shook him from his despair. “You’re not a monster, sunshine. Life may have given you this power, but it doesn’t make you a monster. You have a kind heart, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

She cupped her hands over his, and took away the toy’s remains. “Now, let me take this. I’ll go buy you a new one. Thankfully no one saw you destroy that- they might not understand.”

She kissed his forehead and guided him to the playground swings. “I’ll be back. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.” Adrien gave her a small lopsided smile while wiping away his tears. “Thank you.”

He sighed as he watched his mother leave. He was alone again. It wasn’t crowded in the park today- only 3 other children were there. None seem to be paying him much attention. One kid was off at the sand box building some sort of castle as he hummed under his breath. Another kid was hiding behind a tree, writing something down on a notepad she carried along while watching the boy in the sand box.

The last child was holding a cat stuff toy on one hand as she swung across the monkey bars. Adrien flinched when he realized that her gaze was on him.

Did she see him destroy the toy?

Fear suddenly gripped his heart. This was what his parents warned him about, people will finally look at him differently. He was going to be Paris’ monster. The child that destroys everything he touches. The child that brings bad luck.

He braced himself for the inevitable scream from the girl, but instead she gave him a toothy grin. He stared at her for a few seconds before giving her a small, confused yet questioning smile.

It must have looked weird because she giggled and dropped herself off from the monkey bars with a graceful flourish.

She approached him enthusiastically, not showing any signs of fear. Adrien relaxed, she couldn’t have seen him destroy the toy. But as she came closer, she had a glint of excitement in her eyes that showed that she knew something.

“I saw you.” She said simply.

Adrien’s heart dropped. He gripped the chains on the swing and readied himself to run away. The young girl realized what he was about to do and consoled him.

“Oh no, no, no. Don’t go! I won’t tell anyone.” She said frantically. “I-I just wanted to say that- that, you have a gift!”

He stared at her smiling face sadly, and almost regretfully, he told her. “It’s not a gift.”

“But it is!” the girl insisted fervently. “That’s what my parents tell me.”

“You don’t understand!” he said bitterly, new tears now streaming down his face. He embarrassedly hid his face in hands.  

“But I do!” she said patiently. “I have a gift too.”

He raised his head and looked into her eyes- her bright bluebell eyes. “You do?”

She sat down on the ground in front of him and smiled. “I do.”

Adrien gaped at her. “I’m not alone?”

“You’re not alone.” She repeated.

Adrien just stared at the girl in front of him, taking in her midnight dark hair, her gorgeous eyes, and her pretty freckles. This girl was just like him. And for a moment, everything was okay.

“Why are you sitting on the ground?” Adrien questioned after long moments of silence. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get dirty?”

“Well, there is not other seats around, and I didn’t want to leave you alone when you are sad.” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Almost at once, Adrien shot up from the swing and said, “Then sit here! You shouldn’t get your pretty dress dirty.”

“No, no, it’s alright!” she waved away his offer. “You were there first, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“N-no, I insist.” Adrien gave her a solemn look. “My daddy said that that’s what a gentleman would do.”

The girl contemplated it, “No, it’s alright. I’m fine on the ground.” She said firmly.

Adrien hesitated, but upon seeing her steely eyes, he gave in. “Alright, if you won’t take it, I’ll just sit down here with you.”

Adrien plopped down on the ground and gave her a friendly bump on the shoulder. “I’m Adrien. Ca-can we be friends?”

“Mari.” She responded, returning the bump with a wide beam. “And of course!”

They stayed there for a while, just talking about anything. Before today, Adrien didn’t allow himself to believe that he could ever make a friend. His first real friend.

It would be about half an hour before Mari’s parents would come by, and Adrien tried to make the most of it by joining her in the playground.

“I have to go,” Mari said as she saw her parents approaching. “But before I do, I want to give you something.”

She pulled him into the playground castle. It was a closed place, hiding them away from the rest of the slowly gathering crowd.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” she said nervously as she stared at him through her bangs.

He gave her the sincerest look he could possibly muster. “I promise.”

“Okay.” She said softly.

She stared at her hands, slowly opening and closing it as she shook ever so slightly.

“Uh, Mari?” Adrien asked questioningly.

“Shhh.” She said, giggling quietly. “I’m trying to focus.”

A bright red glow covered her hands. “Now, what’s your favorite color?”

“Black and green.”

She grinned and the red glow grew. All of the sudden, a stuff toy dropped out of nowhere onto her awaiting hands.

Adrien stared at it.  It was a medium sized black cat stuff toy. The ears were long and pointy and the electric green eyes were a little too comical to be realistic. A mischievous quality was almost visible and familiar to him, grinning at him in a liberating way.

“It’s for you.” Mari said shyly.

Adrien withdrew the hands that he didn’t even notice was reaching out to touch it. “I couldn’t.”

Mari’s face fell. “Oh, I understand. It’s alright.”

“No!” Adrien said anxiously. “It’s- it’s just that I’m worried it will get destroyed.”

“It won’t.” Mari said surely. “It’s my gift.”

Adrien tentatively stretched out to touch it. The moment his fingers hit the soft furry toy, he instinctively pulled back his hands as if he was afraid the toy would burn. When it didn’t, he let out a gasp and he took it slowly from Mari, cuddling it close to him.

“Your power is beautiful.” Adrien said gently.

“You’re beautiful.” Mari murmured.

Adrien felt a warm feeling spread itself across his chest. This girl didn’t see him as a monster. The most beautiful girl in the world thought he was beautiful.  Adrien felt lighter than he’s ever been.

“Thank you.” Adrien tried to put a much emotion as he could in those two words.

She only smiled tenderly in response.

When Mari’s parents arrived, Adrien almost couldn’t bear to say goodbye. But after assuring him that she would be there the next day, he beamed and shyly gave her a gentlemanly kiss on her hand.

“Goodbye, my lady.” He said to her retreating back. “See you tomorrow.”

….

Only, he didn’t. The next day, his family boarded themselves on a flight to China to find a healer- someone who can cure him of his gift. He came back 2 years later, without a cure, and without his mother.

He wouldn’t see his lady for another 10 years. By then, he didn’t even remember her face or her name.

He only remembered her eyes, her smile, her power and her kindness.

He remembered so little, but without a doubt in his mind, he knew he found her that fateful day he decided to use his powers for good.

He found her- his lady.

Ladybug, whoever you are behind that mask, I love you. 

Chapter 2 here! 

[crypticcravings]

Faster

I'm back with Adrinette Month Day 12: Childhood Friends! I’ve been working on this AU for a little while, and plan on turning it into a multi-chapter fic when I have time. 

Also on Ao3 Inspired by Matt Nathanson's song Faster You can't tell me Marinette wouldn't have a fashion/aesthetic blog.

Six years ago. "Don't cry, Marinette," Adrien said, brushing back her bangs to see her wiping away her tears. "I'll be gone for a long time, but I promise I'll keep in touch."

"I know I shouldn't be crying. I mean, with everything you're going through, I should be the one comforting you, but I'm going to miss you so much!" Marinette threw her arms around Adrien and cried into his shoulder. She couldn't seem to stop.

"I'll come back for you," Adrien said, rubbing her back. "And when I do, we can be together forever. We'll even get married." 

Marinette giggled through her tears. "You've been watching too many movies, Adrien."

"Adrien," M. Agreste's assistant called from the car, "It's time to leave now. Your father is waiting."

Marinette reluctantly let go of her best friend. "Email me when you get there." Adrien, feeling bold at the prospect of missing her, kissed her on the cheek before turning away. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a sad smile. "I'm going to keep my promise."

Marinette grinned. "Take care of yourself."

Present Day. Cardiac-Agreste: Just admit that it's a good show. Ladybugs-and-Lace: i don't know how you sucked me into this one Ladybugs-and-Lace: but yes Ladybugs-and-Lace: out of all of these shows you've shown me I enjoyed YoI the most Ladybugs-and-Lace: are you happy? Cardiac-Agreste: as a clam ^0^ Ladybugs-and-Lace:  (￢_￢;) Cardiac-Agreste: u kno u love it uwu Ladybugs-and-Lace: *rolls eyes* Ive got to go. Helping mom and dad in the bakery. Ttyl dork. Cardiac-Agreste: later bug Cardiac-Agreste: (*^^*)♡

Marinette closed out of Tumblr messenger and headed downstairs to the bakery. She had a feeling that a series of memes and posts would be in her inbox by the time she returned. 

In the past few years, even though her best friend was moving about Europe for his father's company, they had tried their best to keep in touch. That generally meant a handful of emails here and there, and a few short messages on his "secret" social media accounts. Marinette missed him, of course. She only knew what he looked like from magazine articles and fashion reports. She didn't even know what his voice sounded like anymore. Some contact was better than none, though, she supposed. 

She smiled as she helped her mother knead the dough for the next batch of bread. She made a mental note to run to the news stand to pick up the newest Vogue. It should have a special on Milan Fashion Week, and a feature on the newest Gabriel line.

New school years were always stressful. Marinette hadn't had the best of luck with them. As she brushed her hair and fixed her makeup, she couldn't help the sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. What would she do to mess up this time?

Marinette sighed, tied her hair into two short braids and tucked them behind her ears. She assessed her outfit, and decided it was as good as it was going to get. Pink shorts, white shirt, black bolero, and pink flats. Bright and warm enough to almost feel like it was still summer. Marinette swiped some light pink lip-gloss across her lips and put on a wide-brimmed sunhat before hiking her school bag onto her shoulder and heading out. 

"Hey, Marinette," Alya called from the street corner.

Marinette's day brightened marginally. "Morning, Alya!" 

The two walked the negligible distance to the Lycee, making a short stop along the way for Marinette to pick up a copy of Vogue. 

"I know we've talked about this before," Alya said, looking over Marinette's shoulder at the spread, "but why are you so obsessed with this model again?"

Marinette groaned and flipped to the next page, hoping to get away from the images of Adrien on the runway. Unfortunately, the next page showed a close up of his bright green eyes peering over a pair of thick rimmed, teal glasses. "I'm not obsessed with him. We grew up together. Our moms were best friends."

"Then why have I never met him?"

Marinette folded the opposite corner of the page over to save that photo for later. "He's not in Paris anymore. He travels all over with his father, so I haven't seen him since we were in primary school."

Alya pondered this for a moment. This was the person competing for her position as best friend. Alya was also pretty sure this was the guy she was always sending messages to. She'd always written him off as an internet friend. Alya had plenty of them herself, but it turned out their connection went much deeper than that. 

"Do you ever video chat with this guy?"

"Nah. He's really busy, and sometimes time zones don't line up, but we're alright with the way things are." The lie slipped out easily. In reality, she missed talking to him face to face. It would be wonderful to have that connection with him. But she really did understand. Besides, it was a miracle their friendship had survived this long without seeing one another. 

The duo walked up the stairs of the school and headed towards their new, and final, Lycee classroom. 

Once they claimed their seats, Alya and Marinette carried on chatting and gossiping about their friends. 

Marinette was especially animated while telling Alya about a particularly heated debate she and Chloe had gotten into when they had been out shopping the week prior. She and Chloe hadn't always been friends, that was for sure, but she had calmed down quite a bit since their college days, and eventually they became good friends.

"Can you believe that? The color was horrendous, and she was actually trying to push it onto me," Marinette threw her arms about as she gestured about the dress. "Sometimes, I seriously believe that she still has it out for me." She threw her arms back in frustration, and suddenly her arm came into contact with warm, hard flesh.

The contact was met with a deep groan, and a gasp from Alya, along with a couple of other classmates in the room. Marinette let out a squack, and her hands flew to her own face. "Did I just--"

Alya nodded, eyes wide. 

Marinette screwed her eyes shut. Alya's hands came to her shoulders and made her turn to face her latest victim. She opened her eyes to find a blond head hunched over near the ground. 

She bent down to be at the blonde's level and started fretting instantly. "Oh my gosh, I am so so sorry!" His face was covered by both of his hands, making Marinette fear that she had actually broken his nose or given him a black eye or something. "Are you alright? I swear, I need to pay better attention to my surroundings. I can't believe…I…actually…." Marinette's voice trailed off as he removed his hand. "Oh my God."

Her look of disbelief was met with glimmering green eyes, and a mischievous smirk. "Clumsy as ever, I see, Bugaboo."

"Oh my God," Marinette repeated, "Oh my God!"

"Is that the only thing you have to say to me after all these years?" He shot her a fake pout. 

Marinette put her hands on his face and squished his cheeks together. She turned his head this way and that, trying to take everything in. His hands came up to her wrists to still her movements. "Oh my God, Adrien!"

Marinette launched herself at her friend, putting him off balance and toppling him to the ground. 

"How are you here right now? What is happening?"

Adrien laughed and pushed both of them up to their feet. "My father is moving us back to Paris for a while."

"How did you not tell me about this?"

"Your parents knew, but I wanted it to be a surprise, so I didn't tell anyone else." Marinette realized how far she had to crane her neck just to meet his eyes. He had to be over six feet tall by now. "You're enormous!" 

Adrien grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just because you haven't grown since we were kids doesn't make me a giant, Bug."

Suddenly, Alya was at Marinette's side, pulling the two apart. "As heartwarming as this reunion is, class is about to start and we should really be taking our seats. The teacher this year is majorly strict."

Adrien took Marinette's hands in his. "We can talk about this more after class. Catch up, and everything."

Marinette's cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She couldn't believe this was real life. "I'd like that." 

Adrien took his seat in the row in front of Marinette and her friend. He was ecstatic to have Mari back in his life, and not just online, and he fully intended on making good on that last promise he made her.

[artisticflutter]

Adrinette Month Day Twelve 

 As I said skipping the prompt yesterday but you got like two other pictures in place. Anyway, have friends from their teenage/childhood years meeting up again and yes, Adrien still has that scarf. He knows who made it by now and would like to catch up with such an incredible woman.

[o-a-crutchfeild]

A False Childhood- Adrinette Month Day Twelve

"I honestly don't remember a lot of it," he admits quietly. "I think I was pretty sick, for most of it. I mean, I know I was. I must have blocked that out though, because I really can't remember any of the treatments, or anything before I was about seven or eight years old."

She stares at him in surprise, and a bit of horror. That wasn't the answer she'd expected when she asked what he meant by an 'atypical childhood.' "Chat, are... are you serious?"

He nodded. "Um, yeah. Why would I joke about that?"

"So you don't remember anything? No childhood friends, or parties, or-?"

"I didn't have any childhood friends," he cuts in. "Nobody there to forget. My family... we ran in some pretty messed-up circles. Nobody wanted their child to be friends with the dying kid, and be hurt when I 'inevitably' took a dirtnap. By the time I wasn't dying anymore, most kids my age who I had a chance to see at all had already been told to leave me alone... I made my first friend when I was thirteen, a girl who was new to Paris and hadn't heard about what a freak I was."

She can't believe what she's hearing. Her cocky, funny, flirty partner, that isolated? How was that possible? "Chaton, I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have asked..."

"I don't mind. I can't remember most of it anyway, so it doesn't hurt," he smiles cheerfully. "Anyway, I didn't know anything else. I don't think I could go back to that now, but at the time, I really didn't know that there was anything better. And I have you now, and some kids at school who I consider friends! And I know for a fact that at least two of them consider me a friend back!"

She takes his hand, looking him in the eye. "Yeah, you do have me. I wish I could have been around sooner, but I promise, you will never have to go back to that time. I'm going to be here for you, a hundred percent." She smiled slightly. "Anyway, we're only sixteen. Still technically kids... so you can cite me as a childhood friend, if you like?"

His smile overtakes his whole face as her hugs her excitedly. "Thank you, my Lady!"

"It's not a problem-"

"It means a lot to me. I... There's a lot that I never got a chance to do. I always figured having childhood friends would be another thing I completely missed out on. Having a shot at that... it just means a lot," he says, softly. In this moment, he's vulnerable. Open. It's a side of Chat she can only see on rare occasion, and a side she's pretty sure no one else sees, ever. He pulls away after a moment, and the smile is back, his eyes incredibly bright. "So! What sort of stuff do childhood friends do?"

She thinks a moment. "Playgrounds, ice cream trucks, I don't know, the normal kid stuff?"

"I don't know what 'normal kid stuff' is..."

She takes his hand, slowly grinning. "Okay, Chaton. We're going to a playground. And I am going to prove that I can beat you to the top of the swingset."

His eyes widen, and he begins laughing as she pulls him along, determination flashing in her eyes. Maybe her partner didn't have a childhood when he was younger. But hell, she's going to do everything she can to make sure he gets one now.

[space-angels]

This is extra shitty I don't draw kids ok????