Chapter Text
Thunk.
“What to do, what to do,” Marinette muttered, throwing another dart at the foam board.
Thunk.
School has been over for weeks.
Thunk.
She had finally received her bac grade.
Thunk.
It was an eighteen. An eighteen. After everything was said and done, after Madame Mendeleiev had made a big deal about how “God gets twenty, teachers get nineteen, and the best student ever will get eighteen”, she had done it. Marinette had gotten an eighteen.
Thunk.
Not that it matters since she wasn’t going to university because, despite being able to get eighteen on le bac, she’s too stupid to do anything right.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk!
It’s not like Marinette had missed the application deadline on purpose. There had just been more important things to do, like finally taking down Hawkmoth, and then she had to deal with the aftermath of the whole world suddenly knowing that Paris had been in the middle of a war for years. All of a sudden, Marinette had the Justice League breathing down her neck, asking question after question about why they hadn’t been contacted, when she had, or how she planned to secure the miraculi she had retrieved, like it was any of their business!
Thunk!
Ƙⱳąɱį of the in-between! They had tried to tell her, the Grand Guardian of the Miracle Box, how it would really be best if they were the ones to hold on to them. As if it wasn’t her, quite literally, life-bound duty to protect and care for the Ƙⱳąɱį and their miraculi.
Ugh!
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
...and now she was out of darts, and pissed off, and no closer to figuring out what to do.
Sighing, Marinette got up and walked to the foam board, plucking the darts with a little more force than was probably necessary. A knock on her door similarly pulled Marinette from her spiraling thoughts. Not even a moment after the initial sound, the hatch creaks open, revealing Alya in all of her freshly styled glory.
“Hey,” Marinette greeted with a warm smile, letting the darts in her hand roll from her fingers onto her desk as she passed it on her way to greet her friend. “How was it?” She inquired, hugging Alya quickly before ushering her deeper into her room and gently shutting the trapdoor.
“Girrrrl! It was so awesome!” Alya cheered. “The whole, ‘never meet your heroes,’ thing? Does not apply to the goddess that is Lois Lane.”
Marinette let out a snort at her friend's reverence.
“I’m glad it went well.”
“Well? It didn’t go well. It went amazingly. Ugh- what I wouldn’t give to work under a woman like her.” Alya whined as she flopped onto the chase. Which only served to draw out another round of laughter from the designer. Something that earned a glare from Alya as she rolled over to level a look at her. Not that the stern look lasted long, as it melted away into warmth. “Thanks again for getting me that invitation. I never would have been able to go to an event like that on my own.”
“It’s no problem, really. Aunt Penny’s invitation would have been wasted on me, and you know I’m always happy to help.” Marinette waved off, taking a seat at her desk since the chase was fully occupied with the way Alya was still sprawled over it, even if she was facing Marinette now and was no longer face down in the cushion.
“I suppose it would have been a waste.” Alya drawls teasingly. “Can’t really make any new, important connections if you already know everyone who is big and important at an event like that.” The brunette sighed, a dreamy and over dramatic thing as she placed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, to have the rich and famous throwing themselves at your feet.”
“Shut up!” Marinette groaned, dropping her head onto her desk. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
Now it was Alya’s turn to laugh as she pushed herself up.
“Obviously.” Alya agrees with a roll of her eyes. “You know I’m just playing, girl.” She chuckled.
But when Marinette doesn’t laugh along with her this time, she pauses, giving her friend a once-over. Noticing the tense posture despite Marinette’s defeated slump, she took to looking around her friend’s room for clues. Alya’s eyes latched onto every minute detail with a perception she had honed from years of being the LadyBlog reporter. There wasn’t much around the room to go off of, at least nothing that looked out of place or new, so Alya’s only hint that something other than her joking commentary about Marinette being a magnet for the rich and famous is the fact that Marinette has her dart board out, which means she was upset way before Alya had even gotten there.
“Alright, spill.” Alya prompted, crossing the room to join Marinette at the desk, leaning against the wooden structure the designer was slumped against. “What’s up? You’re doing the whole, silently spiraling thing, and you know that’s not allowed- and don’t even say it’s nothing or it’s fine, I will get the spray bottle again. Do not test me!”
Marinette snorts at the threat, but it came out short and thin. More of a choked-off noise than anything else. Lifting her head to give Alya a pitifully sheepish look.
“I may have messed up,” Marinette admitted, earning a raised brow.
“Like ‘Oops, I just ordered ten yards of the wrong fabric’ kind of messed up, or ‘Accidentally on purposely staging a semi-hostile but completely legal takeover and rebrand of the company Gabriel in order to liberate the damsel in distress that is our sweet summer child Adrien Agreste’ kind of Oops?” Alya inquired. Receiving an incredulous look for both the comparison scale used and how fast and smoothly Alya had said it, without stumbling over her words.
“How long have you had that one ready?” Marinette couldn’t stop herself from asking.
Which, of course, got her a deadpanned, “Since the incident where you accidentally on purposely staged a semi-hostile but completely legal takeover and rebrand of the company, Gabriel, in order to liberate the damsel in distress that is our sweet summer child, Adrien Agreste. Now don’t change the subject. How bad of a mess up are we talking about?”
Marinette tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
“You just like saying that whole thing, don’t you?”
“Obviously.” Alya grinned. “It’s a mouthful, so it’s fun, and it's a statement that properly shows off and credits my best friend for her insanity. Of course, I like saying it. Now spill.”
Sighing, Marinette sat up, turning sideways in her chair to give Alya her full attention.
“I missed the university deadlines.”
Alya blinked, expecting a punchline to follow that kind of statement from the designer, but Marinette only fiddled with her sleeve, eyes fixed on the floor, she realized that it wasn't a joke.
“Wait, what?” Alya’s voice pitched up in shock. “You practically invented color-coded to-do lists. You set calendar reminders for my own internship apps. What happened?”
Marinette gave a weak smile. “Yeah, well. Turns out it’s easier to remind other people than yourself. I just got busy and kept thinking I’d do it later. Too much was going on, with school, the bakery, and helping Adrien with the whole ‘get a normal life’ operation. Things piled up and… I didn’t even realize the deadlines were passing until it was too late.”
Alya’s eyes softened, then went sharp with the glint of a plan. “Okay, so, maybe the Paris deadlines are toast. But hey, it’s not the end of the world. Some universities in the States are still open for fall apps. I saw a thread about it, rolling admissions and all that. We can look it up together, see if anything clicks for you.”
Marinette blinked, hope flickering. “You really think it’s not too late?”
Alya grinned, “If there’s one thing us backup heroes know, it’s how to improvise. We’ll get you somewhere amazing. Promise.” She assured Marinette, bumping her shoulder teasingly. Completely missing the look of guilt that flashed too quickly over Marinette's features when the topic of being a backup hero came up, before she buried it behind an appropriately optimistic look.
“Okay, let’s check it out.” Marinette breathed, Alya’s pep talk having reignited some of her hopes for the future, at least enough to pull Marinette out of her spiral to look into schools in the States.
“Greet!” Alya cheered, hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk, already pulling up university lists and forums. Her fingers flying over her phone’s screen as she taps and types.
Marinette stared for a moment, then shook her head with fond amusement as she booted up her laptop. Letting the familiar hum of her poor, achedemically abused machine, grounding her. Within minutes, their screens were filled with tabs of university websites, deadline trackers, art program rankings, and application guides. Every once in a while, Alya would tilt her phone so Marinette could read something, but the more schools she looked into, the more overwhelmed Marinette got. Her eyes widened with every new tab that Alya showed her. California, New York, Illinois, Texas…
There were so many states, each with dozens of universities, each with its own forms, essays, and requirements. The more she scrolled, the more the choices blurred together, until it all felt like an impossible mountain. Alya, being the observant friend that she is, noticed Marinette’s growing anxiety and hopped off the desk.
“Hang on,” Alya instructed, grabbing four of the darts from the desk and a map that had been left to gather dust with the rest of Marinette's studying supplies. Walking over to the other side of the room, the reporter placed the map against the foam board, which was covered with pinholes, and used the dart to stick it to the board. Each dart pinning a corner to keep the map in place. Once Alya was satisfied with her work, she walked back to Marinette, grabbing a scarf off the coat hook as she passed.
“Come on, up you get.” Alya urges so she could step behind Marinette and tie the scarf like a blind fold.
“Alya- what?” Marinette laughed, but allowed her friend to do as she pleased since it meant not having to focus or plan anything.
“Here,” Alya states. Placing a dart in Marinette’s hand. “Hold that tight.” The brunette instructed before she began spinning the designer in circles. “We’re leaving it to fate. Blindfold, spin, and throw. Wherever it lands, that’s where you apply.”
“What if it ends up in the ocean?” Marinette squeaked.
“Then you’re going to Atlantius University or something.” Alya shrugged. “Better aim well if you don’t want to practice holding your breath.” She states nonchalantly as she continues spinning her friend.
Marinette laughed, half-desperate, half-relieved as Alya spun her gently, enough times to make her giggle with dizziness. When the world stilled, presumably in the direction of the dart board, Marinette steadied her stand, took aim, and threw.
Thunk!
The dart hit, with far more force than Marinette had expected from her throw, startling her slightly. She pulled off the blindfold, blinking as the light filtered back into her vision.
Alya whooped. “There you go, girl. Choice made. Looks like Lady Luck is sending you to Jersey! I’m looking up every New Jersey university with open applications and awesome art programs, and you’re applying to all of them. No arguments!”
“Alya!” Marinette whined. “There’s no guarantee that I’ll get into any of the schools.”
“Mari. I love you, but you can’t be this oblivious. Girl, your academic grades were top of the school; any university would be luck yo have you.” Alya scoffed. “What did you get on le bac?”
Marinette muttered her answer as she turned to look away.
“What was that?” Alya inquired.
“An eighteen,” Marinette repeated.
“Seriously? You think they aren’t gonna take you with an eighteen?” Alya asked incredulously. “Don’t answer that.” She ordered, holding a hand up to stop Marinette’s retort. “Alright, first up: Rutgers. They’ve got a killer design program, and their application’s still open. Then Montclair, and- oh, look, there’s even a place called the ‘College of New Jersey.’ You can’t get more straightforward than that.” The reporter rattled off.
Marinette made a helpless noise, anxiety and hope warring in her chest. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, but she couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips as Alya continued on as if she hadn’t said a word. Explaining statistics and fun facts about each school as she switched between websites at a speed that only someone used to quickly checking multiple sources in real-time during an interview could keep track of.
Alya gave Marinette a knowing look when the designer hesitantly pulled up a few of the universities aplications on her laptop. “You know, you’re allowed to be excited, Marinette. The world’s not ending. You’re not stuck. And you’re definitely not alone in this.” She nudged Marinette’s shoulder gently.
Marinette took a shaky breath. “Okay. Rutgers, Montclair, College of New Jersey. I’ll start with those.” She decided, steadying her hands as she got to work.
“Atta girl,” Alya grinned, already pulling up bookmarked essay prompts. “And don’t worry about the personal statement, between helping to save Paris as our favorite little mouse and running a fashion brand, you’ve got more material than anyone.”
Marinette hesitated, fingers hovering over her keyboard. “Yeah, about that… I’m not going to use any of the hero stuff in my essays.”
Alya’s head snapped up. “Wait, what? Why not? Marinette, how many people can say they’ve actually been a magical girl? That’s, like, once-in-a-generation stuff. Admissions people would eat it up!”
Marinette fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, gaze dropping. “It’s just… I never wanted to be a magical girl. Or a hero, or whatever you want to call it.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I was just the easy pick. Right person, right time.”
Alya opened her mouth, then shut it again, surprise flickering across her face. Marinette offered a small, apologetic shrug. “Some people grow up dreaming about the spotlight, but that’s not really the story I want to tell. I do better standing in someone else’s shadow. It’s why my role was recon and info gathering.” She stated, alluding to Multimouse’s publicly known role, even if she was talking about her time as Ladybug. Not that the reporter knew that.
Alya was quiet for a moment, the hum of Marinette’s laptop filling the silence. Then, softly, she said, “You know, wanting to be seen for who you are in the aftermath, that’s not a bad story either.”
Marinette let out a shaky breath, finally meeting Alya’s eyes. “What if who I am isn’t enough?”
Alya rolled her eyes, affectionate but firm. “Girl, you’re more than enough. And if any school can’t see that, they don’t deserve you. Besides, you’re not just anyone’s shadow. You’re the one who makes everyone else shine brighter.”
A small smile crept onto Marinette’s face. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“Don’t you dare,” Alya grinned, tossing Marinette a tissue box just in case. “Now. Which prompt are you starting with? I’ll help you brainstorm- no hero stuff, promise.”
Marinette nodded, determination settling in her chest. She clicked open the first application, hands no longer shaking as much. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
