#if you look close you can see the butches i was ogling on the other side of the pool

[junkdyke]

went to a dyke pool party 💦

[xxxthe-grammar-nazixxx]

Shoot

This is a Robert Sheehan fanfic.  All liberties taken are mine alone. Medium level sex scene.  Based on a photo shoot that was very inspiring!  

‘OMG it’s him!’

‘Who him?’ I was too busy going through the last batch of prints at my desk to pay much attention to what my two off-siders were whispering about. They’d been giggling by the water cooler like Beavis and Butthead for the last five minutes, staring at someone in the foyer, no doubt. It never failed to amuse me how, no matter how many celebrities we met and photographed for our online entertainment magazine, my makeup artist and hairstylist could still turn into a couple of total fangirls at the sight of a pretty, famous man.

They either didn’t hear me or weren’t brave enough to say the name out loud for fear of him – whoever he was – overhearing, so I let it go and walked the prints over to reception. ‘Stella these have the name and contact details on them, can you mail them off for me?’

Stella nodded. ‘Of course. Standard post or express?’

‘It’s pretty urgent.’

‘Express post then.’

‘So, who’s my next lamb to the slaughter?’ I asked her.

‘Robert Sheehan.’

‘Who?’

Stella’s brown, perfectly made-up eyes widened. ‘Are you actually kidding me? The guy’s show is one of the biggest things on Netflix at the moment! The Umbrella Academy?’

‘Haven’t had time. Seriously, how do you people manage to binge-watch TV all day with full-time jobs?’

‘Because we’re not workaholics like you.’ Stella replied, with a laugh. ‘Seriously, you should watch it.’

I screwed up my nose. ‘Superheroes, right? Doesn’t really sound like my kind of thing.’

‘How do you know it’s not your kind of thing unless you watch it?’ Stella said, reproachfully.

‘She’s got a point, you know.’

I sighed. ‘He’s right behind me, isn’t he?’

Stella exploded into giggles. I shook my head at her and turned to find my next subject indeed right behind me.  

He smiled. ‘Not a fan, I take it?’

Hm. Roughly six foot or over, lean but not too skinny, nice green eyes, dimple – okay, I had to admit, I could sort of see what all the fuss was about. His curly dark hair could do with a comb and some product though. I knew I was thinking like a photographer but that was my default setting.

‘It’s not that,’ I told him. ‘I just … haven’t seen your show. I could be a fan.’ I winced. ‘Don’t go over to the competition, please. My boss will kill me.’

He laughed. ‘I don’t even know who the competition is, so I think you’re safe there.’

 I liked his accent too. ‘What part of Ireland are you from?’

‘Port-Laoise,’ (He pronounced it Port Leesh).  ‘I know… practically nobody’s heard of it. It’s not well-known like County Cork or Dublin. It’s a little country town.’

‘Nice. Well, Stu gave me a bit of a heads-up on where to go with this, so are you ready?’

‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

‘Great.’ I turned to Britt and Ella. ‘You two want to stop standing over there like props and get organized?’

Britt’s jaw dropped. ‘Can we watch?’

‘That would be up to Mr. Sheehan.’

‘Just Robert’s fine. I’m no Mister,’ he joked. ‘I … okay … sure, I guess.’

‘Girls, he’s probably sick to death of being ogled at from all angles,’ I told them. ‘Ten minutes, and then you’re out.’

                                                          ****

 To their credit, Britt and Ella did an amazing job. Not that this guy needed much of anything in the way of makeup or what Britt liked to call “floofing”.  But they’d taken one look and decided on the theme. His hair had been straightened and worked into a kind of punk rock bouffant. Like Elvis, but more extreme. Black kohl liner exaggerated the olive green of his eyes. Ella had decided on a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the buttons unfastened to mid-torso. The black and white striped stretch pants looked like something Freddie Mercury would wear in the 70’s – or Michael Hutchence might have worn now, if he’d been alive. Had to admit, for all their fangirling, my employees knew how to dress a man so that you’d want to undress him!

‘Is this okay?’ He walked out of the dressing room patting down the back of his hair, self-consciously. ‘Leave it alone,’ Britt laughed, ‘You’ll wreck all my good work.’

‘It looks great. Suits you.’

‘Thanks. So um … what’s the plan?’

We worked steadily for the next ten minutes while Britt and Ella stood watching from the doorway of the dressing room. After that I gave them permission to buzz off for the day, but I hardly believed they’d take me at my word. Either way it didn’t matter – the door stayed closed. Even Stella left as she had to catch an early train.  I was on my own with a client – not something I regularly planned for as it bent the rules a little bit – but you had to see this guy to understand. I’d photographed male models before, guys whose natural beauty gave me goosebumps in all the right places. But the trouble with them was they knew it and played on it.  I’m not saying Robert didn’t fully realize the effect he had on women.  He knew. He just wasn’t arrogant about it.  In fact, if anything it was the opposite. He was hilarious. He had me in stitches in minutes. It was a good thing the camera was on a tripod because I would have dropped it for sure!

It was when I asked him to improvise a bit that things took a turn for the … well, strange. No, that’s not the word. Let’s just say that I wouldn’t have been surprised if the narrow, horizontal windows near the ceiling of my basement studio were a little bit steamed up …

 He walked toward the camera, slowly, like a tiger biding his time, waiting to pounce. I zoomed in on that face and was glad I did. His grin was like a slow burn, working its way from the pit of your stomach to your thighs. That was when I realized I was holding my breath.  He narrowed those hypnotic green eyes slightly and lifted a finger to his mouth, biting down on it seductively.  My camera kept taking pictures, but I barely noticed my role in their creation. Later I’d go back over the shots and struggle to remember taking some of them. But I never forget the video. I always film a photo shoot, especially if it’s just me in the room with a male client, which doesn’t happen all that often. I always ask permission but it’s more for my protection than theirs. Anyhow, when I returned to the video to make sure I wasn’t running out of battery or flash drive space, I watched Robert in the monitor. He was staring down at his feet, and I wondered what he was thinking about. He lifted his head slowly and glanced at something slightly to the right of the camera, letting out a shaky breath. There was a vulnerability in that one little movement where I kind of felt sorry for the guy, even though there was nothing to pity him for. He was rich, he was incredibly talented, and drop-dead gorgeous. What’s to feel bad about?

‘Are you okay?’ I asked him. ‘Do you need a break?’

He smiled as if the previous moment hadn’t even occurred. ‘No, I’m fine! Honestly, let’s keep going, I’ve got my second wind.’

‘Robert … you would tell me if you felt … objectified, right?’  

He blinked. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m just saying … you must have people taking your picture all the damn time. Does it ever get old?’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes. But that’s the job, you know. Why?’

‘I just … how can I explain this. so it makes sense …’ I bit my lip. ‘You’re a good-looking guy.’

He grinned. ‘Thank you.’

‘And you don’t even fish for compliments. That’s rare. Even when you’re telling some celebrities how great they are, they want to hear more.’

‘Yeah, I’ve met some like that. Quite a few actually.’ He motioned to the sofa under the window. ‘Come to think of it, I might take you up on that quick break, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not.’

I went back to reviewing some of the photos until he cleared his throat. I glanced up.

‘You’re not taking a break?’

‘Um … I wasn’t going to …’

‘Come on. Sit down for a bit. Put your feet up. I heard your receptionist say you’re a workaholic. You can relax for five minutes, you know.’

I laughed. ‘I know … All right.’ It wasn’t taking a break, in itself, that made me nervous.  I might have been driven but as far as I knew, I didn’t suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It was having to sit so close to one of the most attractive men I’d ever met, and not allowing myself to get flustered or unprofessional.  All I could think about was whether I had lipstick on my teeth or bad breath.  I ran a hand through my short blonde hair, which had recently been chopped to resemble Gwyneth Paltrow’s ‘do in Sliding Doors (thank you, Britt, you’re a doll) and wondered if he thought I looked too butch.

‘I like your hair,’ he said. ‘Is that a new cut?’

‘Yeah … I mean, thanks. How did you know?’

‘I didn’t. You just have that look of someone who had their hair cut recently but isn’t sure of it yet.’

I chuckled. ‘That’s awfully specific.’

He shrugged. ‘I like to read people. I think I’m pretty good at it.’

‘Really? What am I thinking now?’

Robert settled into the vintage chesterfield sofa and crossed one long, lean leg over the other, in my direction. He tilted his head, speculatively. ‘You’re on edge. Nervous. I have no idea why. I’m a fun guy. Not intimidating at all.’

You’re half right, I wanted to say, but that would beg the question – what was he wrong about?

‘Okay, I’ll try to remember that,’ I told him. Relaxing back against the sofa I added, ‘Better?’

‘Marginally, but you still have that tense little line between your eyes.’  He reached over and before I knew what was happening, stroked the skin between my eyebrows with his thumb. It had the odd effect of making me feel sleepy.  ‘There, that’s better.’

I managed a smile despite the tension that still sat in my neck and shoulders. ‘Is that Reiki or something?’

‘No. Just something I picked up somewhere. I forget where. I think they do it to newborn babies who are stressed. It puts them to sleep.’

‘Nearly put me to sleep,’ I admitted, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks.

‘Ah well, then, it worked.’  God, that smirk. That dimple. The confidence, along with the complete lack of arrogance, was undeniably hot. I suddenly wanted to remove my blazer, even though it was roughly 10 degrees outside and not much warmer in my studio.

‘Okay well, we’ve … we’ve had a long enough break. Let’s get back to it …’

Robert laughed. ‘It’s your shoot. What do you want me to do now?’

My face grew warmer. I could think of a few things, but they weren’t appropriate at the time and certainly aren’t printable!  ‘Well first off, a wardrobe change. Why don’t you go and have a look at what’s there?’  While he did that, I took off to the bathroom in the hallway, just outside the studio.  Splashing some water on my face, I managed to dial down the red.  Breath, check, I thought, going through the drill. Pits, check. Heart rate … going a mile a minute. Need to get that down!  Think of something totally not hot. Rupert Murdoch. Dead … anything. Warts. Yeah, that’ll do it. Rotten big carbunkles!

No matter what I did, though, when I walked back into the studio and saw him in a pair of black leather pants and a patterned black and silver shirt open all the way down, with nothing underneath but bare skin, my heart-rate spiked!  I’m going to have a bloody stroke, I realized. He’s gonna make me stroke out, the gorgeous bastard!  

Shucking off my blazer because it was now far too hot in that claustrophobic little studio, I complimented him on his choice. ‘You look like Michael Hutchence,’ I admitted. ‘If he was into wearing guyliner.’

Robert laughed. ‘Well, I’m flattered cos he was one hot piece … am I allowed to say that?’

‘Of course! I’m not about to stop you.’ Damn, I thought. He’s gay. Just my luck!

‘I’m not gay, though, not that there’s anything wrong with that,’ he added, quickly. ‘Not that you care, either, I just …’ he shot me a sideways glance. ‘I just wanted you to know.’

‘Okay.’ I think my heart stopped beating altogether somewhere amongst his garbled confession. If in fact it was a confession. I felt a bit like Forrest Gump – too slow to figure out something that should have been obvious.  Wait, I thought. Does he want me to know he’s straight because he’s into me? Or because he’s worried I’ll go to the ‘zine and spill my guts?  Inside I knew the answer to that but my self-esteem, little destroyer that it was, wouldn’t allow me to gloat.

I’m not sure how it happened. I don’t remember how I got from A to B; I just knew that I had to be kissing him right now, before I lost my nerve. He tasted like coffee and pistachios.  His cologne was something altogether fantastic: citrusy and woody and musky all at the same time. Or maybe the musk part was all him, I don’t know.  

He was a freakishly good kisser. Once the shock of my making the first move wore off, he took charge without overstating it. Which was easy for him because I’m less than five feet two in heels and he towered over me. In less than a minute he had managed to trigger every cliché in the romance writer’s arsenal: my knees were weak, my skin was covered in goosebumps and my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. I had to wind my arms around his neck to keep from dissolving into a puddle of lust on the floor, because his lips and hands were doing things to me that are illegal in some countries!  We kind of shuffle-walked back over to the sofa without breaking contact, and suddenly I was lying beside him, reaching into his shirt to hold my hand over his heart, to see if it was racing as fast as mine.  Not quite but close enough. He responded by slipping his hand beneath the hem of my shirt and running it up along my flank until it reached my bra. His lips left mine and started kissing their way down my throat.  My breath caught as his cool fingers grazed my nipple through the silk. He reached around and unfastened my bra with one hand. Hm, clever, I thought. Dexterous at the very least. How many times have you done that, I wonder? It should have been enough to put me off; to change my mind about this. But he started kissing me again and I lost all notion of caring how many women he’d been with or even what day it was.  His hand cupped my breast, this time free of the bra. He moved from my mouth to my collarbone, and pushing up my top, kissed the skin over my heart. I removed the shirt and bra in one, anxious to get as close to him as possible.  I wanted his shirt off as well. As good as it looked on him, this guy was born to not wear clothes!

He let me push it off his shoulders as his mouth made my nipples so hard they ached. My fingers delved into his thick dark hair, messing up the ‘do Britt had so carefully made look careless. His lips traced a path down the center of my torso, the short whiskers on his chin and upper lip alternating between scratching and tickling my skin. When he reached the waistband of my jeans, I had to stop him. ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘Not that. I’m not … I’m not comfortable with it.’

He glanced up at me. ‘You mean, you don’t want me to go down on you?’

I nodded. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry.’ He shuffled back up beside me. ‘Any particular reason?’

‘I don’t know … just … not today. Okay?’

‘Okay. That’s cool.’  He leaned in and kissed me. ‘I have other ways of making you squirm.’

I quivered at the thought. He unzipped my jeans and tugged them down a little, his hand disappeared between my thighs, cupping me and making its way beneath my underwear. ‘Actually,’ he said, in a husky voice, ‘this is almost better.’  I gasped as he started to stroke, and he grinned, and winked at me. ‘Better vantage point.’

When he had me as wet as I could possibly be, he finally let me move enough to unfasten his leather pants. Before that he’d been determined to make me ‘squirm’, as he put it, and squirm I most certainly did. I was still catching my breath when he produced a condom from a pocket I didn’t even know those pants had. ‘Should never leave me alone in the wardrobe room,’ he joked. ‘I get up to all kinds of hijinks.’

‘You brought that with you?’

‘I always have at least one with me,’ he explained. ‘In my position, I sort of have to. You have no idea how many girls throw themselves at me just because I’m famous. I do have a policy where I don’t shag my fans but … when it comes to women in general, sometimes I’m not as disciplined as I’d like to be. Like now, for instance.’

‘Oh good,’ I murmured, ‘Because I don’t have any.’  I looked up at him. He looked so beautiful lying there on his side, practically naked except for a pair of black jockey shorts and the leather pants around those knees. He kicked both off and hurriedly rolled on the rubber.

‘No rush,’ I said, with a giggle. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ I reached up and stroked his cheek. I could feel the bristle of new stubble growing through, even as Britt or Ella must have given him a shave in order to apply the makeup for the photo shoot. Those beautiful big green eyes were luminous even in the shadow from the photo-lighting. His skin was golden and his lips … suddenly I regretted my earlier reticence about oral sex. I’d experienced it before of course but it was always awkward, messy and felt almost like an obligation, on both sides. And it almost never, ever made me feel like he’d made me feel a moment ago, with his hand. I wanted to be able to explain that to him but felt stupid and almost prudish. Instead I took him in hand and fondled him until he closed his eyes and bit down hard on his lower lip. Taking that as a signal he was ready to go, I shucked my own pants off and pulled him close, sliding my leg over his hip. He was cautious at first, probably worried about blowing his load too early, but the feel of him inside me was almost too much, anyway. It reignited what had been simmering away for the last few minutes, with a pleasure so sharp it was almost pain.

‘Are you okay?’

I nodded. ‘Keep going.’

He did, but slowly, and we kissed as if we had all the time in the world. He raised himself up on his elbows over me, and I responded by wrapping my legs around his slim hips, holding him inside. His new position gave him leverage, and strength to go harder and faster. Pretty soon it was only a kiss every other thrust, and I don’t know about him, but I felt like I was about to burst out of my skin.

Suddenly, just as I arched my back with release, and he did the same seconds later, I heard a shrill beep, and remembered.

I hadn’t turned the camcorder off.

 THE END.

[lesbian-ed]

Hey! Sorry this is more of a vent post cuz I think my problem lies w/ self confidence which is something I have to fix myself. I really want to dress more androgynous/butch. I've ordered things from the mens section and loved everything I've bought and felt great in it, but for some reason I can't make myself wear the clothes I want out in public. I hate the thought of people staring at me & maybe guessing I'm gay (in the closet currently) but I still wish I cud express myself how I want ya know

Oh, anon, I do know.

When I was in the closet, I longed for being able to wear what was comfortable and looked good to me, not what other people thought I should wear. I didn’t want frilly blouses or skirts or the like. That one shirt from the men’s section my dad gave me? It was my favourite shirt to wear. Those shoes from the men’s section I somehow managed to convince my family to buy? Best shoes I ever bought. The first plaid I ever got? I wear it to this day, really. They were bits and pieces of things that ‘fit’ me that I could wear without being too obvious when it wasn’t very safe to be obvious at all.

Yes, a lot of it has to do with confidence. Going out looking like yourself, if you’re anything like me, demands that you basically flip everyone off and don’t care about what they’ll whisper (or say loudly as well) or the way they’ll look at you. Because people will look and, a lot of the time, they will talk and they will make you listen to whatever bullshit they’re saying.

Because, see, being visibly gender non-conforming will disturb the people who are (and benefit from) conforming and they don’t like to be reminded that these ‘rules’ are nothing but hogwash. So there is intimidation, I’m not going to lie to you. You might get stared down by women, you might feel threatened by men calling you names in the street – situations vary, but it’s very probable that you’ll be badgered for your appearance in one way or another. Gender non-conformity is closely tied to gayness, so we do end up sticking out like sore thumbs even when we’d rather not be in the spotlight. It’s very difficult to be a butch lesbian and not feel random strangers’ eyes following you everywhere you go.

Then again, you’ll also be visible to other lesbians out there, so not all is gloom and doom. Also keep in mind that you’re not inviting any of this unwanted attention by dressing as you like and being who you are – it really isn’t our fault that society is full of shit and can’t accept the fact that lesbians exist and that its expectations of womanhood are too damn narrow for any woman to live comfortably by. At some point, we have to stop cutting ourselves short to please someone else and just accept ourselves and live as we are. Yes, we have to make sure we’re doing so in a ‘safe’ environment but I’ve also found that, depending on the scenario, by being out and proud and visible, we sort of create that space ourselves just by existing, Then again, it can take an emotional toll to be visibly gay 100% of the time, so it does require us to have thick skin – which, lol, in some interesting dialectic fashion, is something we gain by putting ourselves out there as well.

I get the dilemma between timidity and ‘obviousness’, though, wanting to be comfortable in your own self but not wanting to be ogled. If my experience is worth anything, however, I’ve found it better to deal with strangers’ prying eyes by being unabashedly myself than to blend in as if I’m one of them. Because, idk about you, but I can’t blend in even if I try. I used to worry about being seen as gay and the violence towards me that it could awaken in someone else, but the truth is that even in my most self-hating period of trying to look as feminine and straight as a pole, I would be uncomfortable with all of it and it showed. People knew something was ‘off’ regardless of what I did, they whispered about my being a dyke since forever. So it was a bit of damage control that didn’t amount to anything but my getting myself into situations I disliked, wearing a mask that had nothing to do with who I really am and putting effort into denying myself just so I could get out of harm’s way… And to no avail because the attempts were fruitless.

(With my sob story out of the way...) I also think it’s important that you know in which waters you’re dipping your foot in. You gotta protect yourself, so if you’re in a place that will offer you real danger if you’re visible, you’ll have to be very careful whenever you come out. Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t come out when you’re ready, heaven knows the torture of having to fake it every day, to everyone, all the time.

Having said all that, I have only two other things to add: 1) butchness is not a costume, so you’ll notice I avoided the construction “dressing butch”, but maybe that’s just my personal pet peeve that I keep an eye out for when reading the asks we get, lol. It’s usually quicker to say, I know, but the implication irks me a bit so I wanted to take the opportunity to comment on that, ha; and 2) what you’ll have to keep in mind is that you’re the best judge of whether you can go out and be visible or not, really. If it’s a confidence thing, though, you can do as I mentioned doing in the beginning of the post, using one item of clothing at a time to see how your body reacts to it. Or you can say screw it and go all in, as well; it’s dauting, but it can also be the confidence boost that’s missing, tbh. As long as you’re okay and comfortable with yourself and safe. You’re under no obligation to force yourself into disagreeable situations.

I know you’ll find your footing soon, anon. What you’re experiencing isn’t all that uncommon. And feel free to vent, we’re here for that as well :) I know you basically weren’t asking anything and I got off on a tangent there, but I suppose I can’t keep my mouth shut when it seems I can offer any sort of help, ha.

All the best to you and may you be free to be yourself :)

/Mod T

[breeeliss]

[Miraculous Ladybug]: Good Old Fashioned Meddling

a little late with Week 2 of @thinkoutsidethelovesquare but i really really wanted to do a re-write of the Zoo Scene from Animan with a few rare pairs, so i hope this is a fun little piece for you all 

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Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

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Title: Good Old Fashioned Meddling Pairings: Alyadrien (Alya x Adrien), Chlolya (Chloe x Alya), Chlonette (Chloe x Marinette) Summary: A rewrite of the Zoo Scene from "Animan," except Adrien is coaching Chloe through a date with Alya and Marinette's curiosity can't keep her from eavesdropping.

Good Old Fashioned Meddling

“Just so you know, Alya’s never going to fall in love with you if you keep glaring at her like that.”

Chloe’s eyes widened as she quickly grabbed Adrien’s shoulders and pulled him behind the pile of gym equipment she was currently hiding behind. “Are you some kind of an idiot? Can you not make me look so obvious? For Christ’s sake….”

Adrien smirked. “You’re worried about me making you seem obvious? You’re spying on her from across the courtyard with this look on your face like you don’t know whether you should punch her or go up and talk to her.”

She rolled her eyes at Adrien and carefully peeked out from her hiding spot, watching Marinette and Alya sitting on the steps in the courtyard and laughing over the horoscopes in the latest issue of Le Mode. “I’m….observing her. For….blackmail material.”

“You know, I’m kind of offended that you think I’m that stupid,” Adrien told her. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. Alya’s a pretty girl and she certainly has the attitude to keep up with you. I totally understand the appeal.”

“There’s no appeal ,” Chloe hissed out. “She’s objectively awful. It doesn’t matter that she’s gorgeous or that she’s been featuring in an ongoing series of some very confusing but strangely satisfying daydreams. The mere suggestion that I’d be staring at her from across the room like a lovesick idiot is frankly the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Adrien raised a brow and let her stew in her denial for a few long seconds. “...so are you going to admit that you like her so that I can help you, or are you gonna keep pining from fifty meters away?”

Chloe scrunched up her nose in annoyance and sat down on the floor with her arms crossed over her chest. “This is how you treat your oldest most precious friend, huh?”

“By smacking some sense into her when she needs it? Yes. That is certainly how I treat you.”

“Look. Even if I did like Alya. And I’m not saying that I do!” Chloe insisted when she saw Adrien’s face-splitting grin. “Nothing is going to come of it because I can’t freakin’ talk to her.”

“You talked your way out of a maths test by convincing our teacher you had encephalitis,” Adrien deadpanned. “All of a sudden you don’t know how to talk to one of your classmates?”

“You’re not understanding the problem, darling,” Chloe explained. “Can I physically talk to her? Of course, I’m the most charismatic person I know. But everytime I start talking to her, I can’t help but poke fun at her or give her shit at least once. It’s like a sickness! Or a compulsion. Or something. Whatever. I just can’t talk to her without making her angry at me.”

“Have you tried?”

Chloe winced. “Well….I tried to compliment her on her outfit the other day.”

Adrien nodded. “Okay, that’s a start. And what did you say?”

“I said that her sweater was decent considering that colorblind, soft butch lesbian aesthetic she usually flaunts in school.”

Adrien covered his face with both hands. “That’s not a compliment Chloe, that’s being condescending.”

“This is my point!” Chloe complained petulantly. “I can’t do this flirting thing!”

“Alright,” Adrien shrugged. “So try something else.”

“Like….pay someone to do her homework for the next month?”

“Oh my God, you’re hopeless,” Adrien muttered under his breath. “Let’s just….start with something simple. What would you do if it was Ladybug?”

Chloe’s eyes brightened and she clasped her hands underneath her chin. “Oh, it wouldn’t matter, we could be trapped in a closet together and I could literally die right there.”

Adrien snorted. “Alright, but if you had to pick.”

“Oh I dunno,” Chloe muttered. “Um….the Louvre has a really nice exhibit that I’ve been wanting to see. I’d probably want her to see it with me.”

“Perfect,” Adrien smiled. “Ask Alya to go to the Louvre with you.”

“Adrien, that’s so stupid, there’s no way she’s going to agree to that.”

“Look,” Adrien began. “As….prickly as you are, you’re a beautiful girl and I know you’re secretly a sweetheart underneath this holier-than-thou act like you love to put on in front of everyone. I wouldn’t be friends with you if I didn’t think there was something about you to admire. If you take a chance and just tone down the animosity a little bit, you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“Oh, easy for you to say, M. Front Cover Teen Model,” Chloe snapped. “You’re a heartthrob, girls drool all over you on a daily basis. It’s hard out here for us lady-loving ladies. What if she’s straight?”

Adrien snorted and tried to cover up his laughter with this hand. “I really don’t think you have to worry about that?”

“Wait, what!?”

“Look, just ask her to the Louvre,” Adrien repeated.

“Yeah, slight problem, genius,” Chloe glared. “She hates me. She’s not going to go anywhere with me.”

“Would you chill out for two seconds please?” Adrien asked, flicking her on the nose. “I’ve got you. Just follow my lead.”

“You know, I’ve gotta tell you. Adrien’s really stepping it up with these photoshoots. I mean, look at this one. Black is so his color.”

Marinette smirked. “This coming from the girl that said ‘Oh I’m not going to buy a magazine just to ogle a boy. That’s something you would do.’”

“Excuse you, but I did not purchase it. You did. For your fashion references. I’m just taking advantage of the stray reading material and attempting to become a more well-read member of society. A good writer studies and learns from other writers, so two birds with one stone.”

“Yeah, because all aspiring investigative journalists read fashion articles about why pops of color are in this season.”

“Will you shut up and let me stare at this boy’s eyes in peace?”

Marinette lifted her hands and laughed. “Hey, I wasn’t judging. Stare away. You know I support you and your big, fat, embarrassing crush on him because it’s the single most hilarious thing that I know about you.”

Alya frowned and smacked the top of Marinette’s head with the magazine. “Yell it louder, yeah? The whole world hasn’t heard you yet.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Marinette snickered. “You know I’m just teasing. Although I’m surprised it’s still a secret. I would’ve expected you of all people to have made a move already.”

Alya shrugged. “We’re friends and it’s a delicate thing asking out your friend. I’m just looking for an opportune moment.”

Marinette bumped her hip against Alya’s. “Oh, opportune moment, my butt. You’re scared to ask him, aren’t you?”

“Oh please, we both know that if you were me, you’d be stuttering all over the place and wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes.”

“Bite me.”

“Look, the plan is to tell him eventually,” Alya promised. “I hate hanging onto secrets like this. But I want to do it right and not freak him out, you know? I value our friendship and Adrien seems like a kid that’s in desperate need of friends.”

“I get that,” Marinette shrugged. “Although, I think you really underestimate him. If you asked him out, he’d totally say yes. In a heartbeat. Trust me.”

“I dunno. Sometimes that kid is just as clueless as you are.”

“Okay, when did this turn into a read session? Go stare at your magazine.”

Alya stuck out her tongue playfully and was about to comment back with something snarky, but she was interrupted when she accidentally collided with someone and dropped her magazine.

“Oh, crap, I’m so sor — oh. It’s you.”

Chloe was standing in front of them, dramatically brushing off her sweater and readjusting the bag on her shoulder. “What do you mean ‘oh, it’s you’? How dare you, you insufferable little — ”

Her head was suddenly yanked back as Adrien tugged on her ponytail and immediately cut off her sentence. She pouted at him hatefully and rubbed the back of her head while Adrien smiled charmingly. “Ah, silly us, we weren’t looking where we were going. Sorry about that.” He gave a gentler tug on her ponytail. “Right, Chloe?”

Chloe puffed out her cheeks, stared at her feet, and grumbled under her breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

Adrien stared down at the floor and eyed the magazine Alya had dropped. “Oh, is that yours?”

Alya waved her hand away and bent down to pick it up, surreptitiously closing the page on the full spread that had Adrien featured. “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

“Oh, the new La Mode’s out already?” Adrien asked. “I haven’t seen my spread yet.”

Alya smirked and tucked the magazine under her arm. “It’s pretty good,” she promised him. “Those new Gabriel blazers they put you in looked really handsome on you.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Aw, thanks.”

Alya laughed a little harder and smiled a little wider than she usually did when she told him it was no problem, and Marinette had to cover her mouth to keep her own amused giggles from drawing too much attention to herself. Alya wasn’t the type to stutter and stumble around boys she liked, but she certainly wasn’t subtle about her crushes either as much as she insisted that she was. As Alya’s best friend, Marinette was of the humble opinion that Alya couldn’t possibly be any more obvious.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that again,” Adrien said. “Why don’t we make it up to you?” He nudged an elbow into Chloe’s side. “Any ideas Chloe?”

Chloe grabbed the collar of Adrien’s shirt and tugged him closer to her. “Why do I have to say something?” she hissed quietly.

Adrien smiled and spoke through his teeth. “This is your date, you ask her out.”

“I’m not saying anything!”

Alya frowned. “Uh, is everything alright?”

“Perfect!” Adrien said a little loudly. “Ah, why don’t we check out the Louvre together? I was going to invite Nino but he’s home sick today and Chloe’s been dying for the two of us to go see the, uh….” He tapped Chloe’s elbow and pushed her to finish his sentence.

“They, uh….have this really cool photography exhibit,” she said, trying to appear aloof about it. “It’s okay, I guess. Sabrina hates museums and didn’t want to tag along so it’s just Adrien and I.” Adrien stomped on her foot. “And you too! I guess….”

Marinette could see Alya’s interest in the invitation slowly starting to wane, most likely because Chloe was apparently going to be tagging along. But Chloe aside, Adrien was going to be there, and Marinette knew a golden opportunity when she saw one. She covered Alya’s mouth with her hand right before Alya cut in with a sharp retort. “Actually, that sounds like an amazing idea,” she grinned happily. “You love photography, don’t you Alya?”

Alya huffed and moved Marinette’s hand away. “I mean, yeah, I do, but —”

“Great!” Adrien grinned. “Then it’s settled. After school, four o’clock?”

Alya laughed nervously. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s —”

“Yup,” Marinette piped up. “Four o’clock sounds perfect. She’ll be there.”

“Cool. Well, Chloe and I are going to head off for some lunch, but we’ll meet you at the museum after school, okay?” Adrien grabbed Chloe’s arm and started to drag her off across the street. “See you girls later!”

“Bye Adrien!” Marinette called, waving to him and trying not to burst into laughter at the sight of the horrified expression Alya was sending her way.

“Are you crazy?” Alya complained. “You just said yes to me hanging out with Chloe . Are you demented?”

“No, I just said yes to hanging out with Adrien ,” Marinette smirked. “Doesn’t that sound so cute? The two of you looking at the exhibits together, getting a chance to talk, pulling out your Alya Charm, and asking him out on a second date so you two can finally stop dancing around each other. It’s the best plan I’ve come up with in a while.”

“Except you’re forgetting the part about Chloe being there.”

“Minor details,” Marinette insisted. “You know she only ever gushes over Ladybug these days anyway. It’s not like she’s going to treat him as arm candy and get in the way of you two talking. Besides, you’re creative. I’m sure you can figure out a way to ditch her and get to spend some time with him so you can run off into the sunset holding hands and talk about the rest of your lives together while Chloe goes and pouts in the corner like the little gremlin she is.”

“You are so over dramatic,” Alya chuckled.

“Please??” Marinette begged with a pout. “It’s worth a shot! Imagine if this is the story I put in my maid of honor speech!”

Alya smirked. “Who said you’re going to be my maid of honor?”

“That’s the worst joke you’ve ever told because it’s so clearly a lie. Now come on! Say yes say yes say yes!”

“Alright, alright,” Alya finally relented. “I’ll give it a shot. Hopefully this little brat will be on her best behavior and I can actually get a word in edgewise with Adrien. I swear, if she sabotages anything, I’ll kill her.”

“You can handle yourself,” Marinette promised. “Aw man, I’m so mad I’m going to miss this! I want to see you on your first date with Adrien.”

“It’s not a date,” Alya corrected. “And stop being so nosy. I mean, what are you going to do, hide behind the arches of the palace and hook a bluetooth up to your ear so you can hear everything we’re saying?”

Marinette’s eyes immediately widened in excitement and she started bouncing on her toes and waving her hands the moment the words finished coming out of Alya’s mouth. Alya scowled and pointed a finger at Marinette’s nose. “Don’t you dare ….”

“Let me—”

“No.”

“—listen in—”

“ No Marinette!”

“—on your date, pretty pretty pretty please oh my God please please I’ll die if you won’t let me!”

“I will update you on everything that happens,” Alya said. “You don’t have to James Bond this crap, you know.”

“But I want to be there for it!’ Marinette said excitedly. “Maid of honor speech! The story I’ll tell your children when you let me babysit your kids! I want to be there for the most important moments in your life oh my God you have to let me listen in and see what happens, pleeeeaaassseee!”

“Alright!” Alya decided finally. “Alright. Fine. But just this once. And you are not to interject or make any unnecessary commentary during this whole thing. I’m more than capable of lasting an afternoon with Adrien and I don’t need you telling me what to say or gushing about planning our wedding in the future. Be chill, okay?”

Marinette bit down on her bottom lip. “I….will commit to restraining myself as much as humanly possible but ask you to not demand perfection from me.”

Alya smiled fondly. “Close enough, I guess.”

“Yay!!” Marinette screamed. “Alya’s got a date!! This is so cool!!”

“It’s not a date! And would you stop screaming , people are staring!”

“You’re abandoning me!?!?!”

Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. “Um, yeah? I set you guys up on a date. Why would I tag along for that?”

“You fucking traitor you’re going to leave me alone with her?” Chloe shrieked. “Did you not hear me when I said I am physiologically incapable of speaking to this girl without feeling the compulsion to smack her in the face? I can’t do this alone. You have to help me.”

“I already did half the work for you,” Adrien said. “All you have to do is show up, be yourself — minus the sarcasm and the insults and anything else that’s going to piss Alya off — and enjoy a date with her. You’re over-thinking this way too much. Weren’t you the one bragging to me the other day about you being the perfect date?”

“Ugh, stop pulling receipts out on me, this is totally different,” Chloe complained. “I have no idea how to get her to not hate me, meanwhile the two of you get along so well. You know what to say to her to get her to like me, so you have to come on this date.”

“Chloe, come on—”

“Adrien darling, for the love of all that is holy in the world, if you do this one thing for me I’ll never ask for anything else ever in my whole life until I die.”

“You know that’s a lie.”

Chloe threw her head back and groaned at the sky. “Fine, I’ll try to snag you Jagged Stone tickets or something just do this for me please?”

Adrien raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to regret this so hard, but fine. What are friends for?”

Chloe jumped up and wrapped her arms around Adrien’s neck. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou, you’re the most marvellous sunshine prince I’ve ever met and I love you with all my heart!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adrien said, patting the back of Chloe’s head. “Now why don’t we practice trying to get you to say all of that to Alya instead, huh?”

“One, two, one, two, testing? Can you hear me, Al?”

Alya was sitting on the edge of the fountains in the Louvre courtyard and laughed while she touched her earpiece. “I can hear you fine, girlie, but I still don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“No. Stop right there. Unacceptable,” Marinette demanded sternly, hiding behind one of the columns in the arches of the Louvre palace only a few meters away. “You always do this. You always wanna keep things casual and be cool about everything and pretend you’re so suave and in control of your crush. That boy is gonna know how you feel by the end of the day, gosh darn it! You are not to play it cool, Alya! I expect some grade-A flirting and a promise for a second date otherwise I’m disowning you as a friend.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mari, I don’t know if he likes me like that yet. I don’t wanna screw up a friendship with him by being too forward about it. We’ve only known each other for a few months.”

“Well, I’m not suggesting you grab him by the collar drag him to a corner and yell in his face about how much you like him. I know that’s your default but for Adrien I was imagining something a touch more muted.”

Alya scoffed. “I’m not that intense!!”

“Um. I’m sensing some next level denial here. Just tell him how you feel without being too aggressive and you’re not going to scare him away or ruin a friendship. He’s into you! I wish you’d believe me.”

Alya groaned. “Ugh, alright, alright, I’ll try to find a moment to slip it in there. Happy?”

“Indubitably,” Marinette giggled. “Oh. And just so you know I’m recording this confession to play over and over again later so make sure you speak into the bluetooth clearly.”

“Marinette, I swear on your precious little sewing machine—”

“Crap! Target at ten o’clock! Get ready!”

Alya straightened up suddenly and started to peer through the crowds of people loitering around the fountains and waiting to get into the museum behind her. She straightened the jacket she was wearing and fluffed up her hair, but the only person she recognized coming towards her and navigating through the crowds of people was Chloe, clutching onto her purse like a lifeline, pressing a hand to her ear, and staring down at her feet while gnawing on her bottom lip.

Alya furrowed her brows and spoke into her earpiece. “Where’s Adrien?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette said worriedly.

Chloe let out a huge sigh as she marched up to Alya and balanced on her toes. “Uh. H-Hey.”

“Hi?” Alya said carefully. “Um. Is Adrien coming?”

Chloe tugged on the braid over her shoulder and winced, waiting for Adrien’s instructions to come in through the earpiece she was wearing. “Yeah. So, funny story….”

Adrien cleared his throat and peeked out from behind the pillar he was hiding behind, speaking carefully into his own bluetooth device. “Okay. Don’t freak out for the love of God please. Just repeat after me exactly. Say you’ll be better off without me.”

Chloe nodded and turned back to Alya. “I figured we’d be better off without me.”

Alya frowned. “What?”

“No, not without you!” Adrien sighed, smacking his forehead. “Without me . Adrien me!”

Chloe shook her head. “Him!” she said too loudly. “Him! Better off without him! Haha. Ha. You know, because why would you be better off without me, I mean, I’m literally amazing company, am I right?”

Alya nodded slowly. “...right.”

Adrien groaned. “Chloe, you’re killing me.”

“Shut up darling, I’m fixing it,” Chloe hissed into her own earpiece. She cleared her throat and gave a fake smile. “I mean, Adrien was never really a fan of museums all that much,” she explained. “Silly little thing never did appreciate that sort of thing when we were growing up. But...I still wanted to see it. And I guess, if you wanted to see it we can just. Go. Now I mean. We don’t really need to wait around for him to go inside and check out the exhibit really quick.”

“Yes we do you ignoramus!” Marinette shouted into the earpiece. “Why is she here? Where is the love of your life?”

Alya turned her head and hissed into her bluetooth. “Marinette, would you chill the hell out?”

Chloe scowled and placed a hand on her chest. “Excuse me?”

“I, uh….I said maybe we could just chill out,” Alya amended. “He said he’d come with us to go check it out, so we can just wait around for him until he comes.”

“Tell her that you just want to spend some time alone with her,” Adrien instructed.

Chloe widened her eyes. “I’m not telling her that,” she hissed.

“What? Yes you are, just say it.”

“No. That’s corny. And humiliating. I’m not saying it.”

“Chloe you’re trying to hit on her, will you just tell her?”

“I’m not going to freakin’ say it!”

“Do you need a minute?” Alya asked in confusion. “You look like you’re having an episode.”

“No!” Chloe said loudly, pointing at Alya’s face as she said. “I mean. No, uh. We can. Just wait here for him. I guess. That’s fine.”

“What are you talking about?” Adrien exclaimed. “Don’t wait around for me. I’m not coming!”

Alya shrugged. “Okay. I guess you can sit while we wait.”

“Er, thanks,” Chloe muttered, sitting down at the fountain a whole meter away from Alya and quickly pulling out her phone to fill up the time.

Adrien banged his forehead against the pillar. “Chloe, what are you doing?”

Marinette slid down to the floor and leaned her chin in her hand. “This isn’t going to end well.”

After half an hour had gone by, the unspoken had become incredibly obvious.

“Adrien’s sure taking his time, huh?” Alya asked, back to Chloe and not bothering to look up from her phone.

“How should I know?” Chloe snapped back. “I’m not his keeper. I have no idea where he is. It’s not like this is my fault.”

Alya snorted. “Let me guess. You convinced him not to show up, so he’s not coming, and this is just some stupid elaborate prank set up so that you can embarrass me and film it for the whole world to see. Clever. Cute, even. But you’re a brat if that’s what you’re up to, so if I’m right you’ll at least have the decency to let me walk away and not waste the rest of my day.”

Chloe bit her lip and dared a peek over her shoulder, Alya’s disappointed tone making her chest ache with a small twinge of guilt.

“Chloe?” Adrien prompted. “Listen. Repeat after me exactly. There’s no joke. I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just wanted the chance to tell you something important.”

Chloe gulped in a lungful of air and turned around to face Alya. “There’s no joke,” she said quietly. “I….I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just wanted the chance to tell you something important.”

Alya raised a brow as she turned around. “Tell me something important? That’s new for you.”

“Oh shut up,” Chloe snapped. “I know we don’t get along, but I’m trying here okay? Just give me a second.”

Alya’s expression softened as she pocketed her phone and folded her hands in her lap. “Alright. You’ve got my attention. What is it you want to tell me?”

“I wanted to tell you that I really like you, Alya,” Adrien breathed out with a smile.

Chloe bit down on her lip. “I wanted to tell you that….” She swallowed and hesitated against the words that were caught just at the back of her throat. “I….really really like this girl and I don’t know how to tell her.”

“Chloe!” Adrien exclaimed. “What are you doing!?”

Alya blinked in surprise. “A girl? Like one that’s not Ladybug?”

Chloe dropped her head in her lap and laced her fingers on the back of her neck. “This is so humiliating.”

“Hey, hey, I’m not going to make fun of you for this or anything,” Alya soothed, scooting closer to her. “But why are you asking me?”

Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “You know who she is. I figured you were the best person to go to. I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“No offense, no one really likes you all that much.”

“Oh screw you, you brat!”

Alya lifted her hands. “Sorry, sorry. Okay. That was uncalled for. Ugh, okay, usually I’m against helping someone like you on principle. But….I can’t say no to a girl trying to confess to another girl so I guess I can help you out.”

Chloe peeked out from between her fingers. “Really?”

Alya snorted. “Look, I’m as surprised as you are. But, I’m willing to call a temporary truce if it means getting two girls together. I like girls too, so it’s a weakness of mine.”

Chloe sighed in relief. “Alright. I can handle a temporary truce I guess. So long as we go right back to hating each other when this is over.”

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

Marinette snickered into her earpiece. “You calling a truce with Chloe to help her confess to another girl because you have a weakness for it? Oh my God, this is definitely a satisfying plot twist. I can’t wait to hear how this is going to play out.”

Alya frowned. “I can’t wait to hear you shush for two seconds!”

“Sorry?”

“Er,” Alya mumbled. “I said that I can’t wait to hear about this girl. You said I know her. Is she in our class?”

Adrien tapped on his mic to get Chloe’s attention. “Tell her it’s you!”

Chloe played with the hair at the end of your braid. “It’s, um….it’s….”

Alya smirked. “Yeah?”

Chloe bit down on her lip, felt her cheeks start to grow warm, and said the first thing that came into her head. “It’s your best friend Marinette!”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Holy shit, what?” Alya laughed.

“What the fuck?!” Marinette screeched.

“You’ve been crushing on Marinette this entire time?” Alya asked with a laugh. “Oh my God, this is the best moment of my entire life.”

“What the ever loving hell are you doing!? ” Marinette practically screamed. “This is horrible! Stop encouraging this!”

Chloe laughed nervously. “Ahaha….ah, yeah. Marinette. Yup. Totally.”

“I’ll admit, this is a challenge,” Alya said, drumming her fingers against her chin. “You’re not very nice to her and I don’t think she’s too keen on warming up to you because of that. But if you’re serious about this, this is definitely doable. A little finagling, some clever nudging, a few cleverly placed situations, and this is a for sure slam dunk. I can try and set up a date for you guys if you want.”

“NO!” Marinette shouted, loud enough that Alya almost heard it from across the courtyard. “Are you crazy!? You didn’t even ask me first! She’s a horrifying little brat who’d rather see me crushed under her heel than on a date with her. No. End of discussion. This is not happening. Cancelled.”

“Aw come on babe,” Alya whispered. “She’s a nightmare, but she’s pretty. If anyone can whip her into shape for you it’s me.”

“Why do you keep muttering to yourself like that? What are you saying?”

“I was just saying that Marinette’s pretty!” Alya corrected. “And it would be pretty easy to whip up an excuse for the two of you to hang out.”

“I’m literally going to kill you!” Marinette said through gritted teeth. “This date with Chloe is not happening don’t you even dare try it!”

“Chloe, what on Earth did you just get yourself into?” Adrien bemoaned. “I don’t know how to get you out of this! What kind of hole did you just dig for yourself, you literally just had to say exactly what I told you!”

Chloe rolled her eyes, and subtly pulled her earpiece out of her ear. “You seem like a meddler so I’m not surprised.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” Alya grinned, also taking her earpiece out and stuffing it into her pocket. “Still wanna see the exhibit? Should give us plenty of time to plan out our next movie with Marinette. Wow, I still can’t believe this is actually happening.”

Chloe shrugged, figuring that this was about the closest she was going to get to spending an afternoon with Alya, even if she accidentally signed herself up with a date with Marinette instead in exchange. “You’re way too excited about this. It’s kind of creepy.”

“You better shut up if you want my help, you little monster.”

 “Wait, wait, wait, explain to me again how you managed this?” Nino asked.

“I don’t know man it was actually really bizarre,” Alya admitted, the two of them sitting on the steps of the courtyard two days later. “After we left the museum, I called my mom and she was totally down to open the hotel restaurant early the next evening so long as the Mayor was okay with it, and of course Chloe can get her father to do anything if she begs for it hard enough. So, bam! Private dinner at Le Grand Paris.”

“Did the two of them actually show up last night?”

“I mean, I walked Marinette there and everything. She looked super cute, but I think she hates me now,” Alya chuckled. “God, she kept saying she was going to maim me the whole way there. But she did get all dolled up for it so at least she put up an effort.”

“And Chloe?”

“Yup. Waiting for her by the door and everything.”

Nino sighed out in disbelief. “Dude. Don’t get me wrong. That’s artistry. Like actually. But that’s kind of intense to just spring a date like that on her without asking her first. You should at least apologize.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad, could it?” Alya wondered.

“I mean, who knows. I personally think they killed each other last night. But no matter what I think you should at least say sorry for going over her head about it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Alya decided. “Not often I get to work my matchmaking powers I guess, so I got a little carried away. I hope she’s not super upset.”

Nino nudged Alya in the side and pointed towards the entrance to the school. “Well, here’s your moment of truth. There goes Marinette right now.”

Alya turned to see Marinette skipping up the steps of the school and laughing over a beauty magazine that Alya knew she always picked up from the newsstand on Wednesdays. But what she wasn’t expecting was for Chloe to be linking arms with Marinette and cackling at the same page Marinette was staring at, leaning on her for support as they gossiped over the article. Marinette flipped two pages back and leaned up on her toes to whisper something into Chloe’s ear that had her gasping and playfully smacking Marinette on the shoulder while Marinette stuck her tongue out at her.

Nino couldn’t keep his eyes off of the scene as he slowly leaned over to mutter, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“The two of them actually getting along?” Alya answered. “Yeah. I’m seeing it.”

“Dude, what kind of black magic did you pull?”

“I don’t know!”

“You’re absolutely awful,” Chloe chuckled as the two of them walked closer to Alya and Nino. “But seriously, if you have that palette let me know how you like it. I don’t know if I want to buy it just yet.”

“I’ll test it out for a week to let you know. But I’m wearing the blushed nudes right now and I really like them.” Marinette shut her eyes and lifted her chin. “See?”

Chloe hummed. “Huh. That eyeshadow looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” Marinette smiled. “You should try the naked colors. The browns and tans would look really good with your skin tone.”

“Worth a try,” Chloe shrugged. “I’m getting tired of these blues and greens. I’m in the mood for a change.”

“Uh,” Alya spoke up. “Hey you two.”

“Oh, hey Alya!” Marinette grinned happily. “Chloe and I were just chatting makeup. By the way, she swears by that eye primer I was telling you about.”

“Magic in a bottle,” Chloe promised. “I don’t leave the house without it on.”

“What’s the miracle the two of you are getting along all of a sudden?” Nino questioned. “You two are usually at each other’s throats before noon.”

“Well, this one sent us on a date last night for close to two hours,” Marinette said, jutting her thumb in Alya’s direction. “Turns out when you get past the brattiness and the ego, the two of us actually have a lot in common.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but kept a small smile on her face. “Gee thanks, brat,” she muttered. She turned to Alya. “But yeah. Remember that girl I told you I had a crush on. I lied. It was actually you.”

Alya blinked and leaned back in shock. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah, I’m as embarrassed about it as you are,” Chloe shrugged. “But I guess I only thought I had a crush on you. Turns out after an evening alone with this one — ”

“Hey now,” Marinette interrupted, poking Chloe in the cheek. “You don’t have to gossip about everything.”

Chloe snorted. “Hey, they’re your friends. If you want to keep the suspense up a little bit, be my guest.”

“Here’s the funniest part,” Marinette smirked. “Turns out Adrien was like a stone’s throw away coaching Chloe through that entire afternoon at the Louvre.”

“Wait a minute. Adrien was there?” Alya exclaimed.

“Yeah. Crazy, right?”

Chloe leaned her elbow on Marinette’s shoulder and sent a wink in Alya’s direction. “So Marinette here tells me that you have a crush on some guy.”

Alya’s face fell. “You didn’t….”

“I didn’t say anything!” Marinette insisted, grabbing both of ALya’s hands and pressing a kiss to the backs of them. “Promise! You know, because, I don’t go and make decisions on behalf of other people. Cough, cough, hint, hint.”

“I’m sorry,” Alya deflated slightly. “I’ll cool it next time.”

“You know,” Chloe pondered. “If you really wanted help, I could totally make it happen. You’re not the only one with impressive matchmaking powers.”

Marinette stomped on Chloe’s foot and Chloe immediately backtracked. “Of course that would mean I knew who the guy was! Which I don’t! Because, that would be ridiculous. Because I don’t know who they are.”

“Would you shut up?” Marinette hissed.

“Ugh, fine fine! Forget I said anything.” Chloe crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling. “But, if you wanted to hypothetically make it happen, just give me a call.”

“Chloe! Shut up!”

“ Alright!” Chloe exclaimed. “Anyway, I guess we’ll see the two of you in class. We both forgot to do our maths homework so we’re going to cram before class.”

“Bye Alya,” Marinette waved. “We’ll chat later.”

The two girls scurried off behind them, muttering animatedly in between themselves too quietly for Alya or Nino to hear. Nino scratched the back of his head. “You don’t think that the two of them are….?”

“No,” Alya insisted. “....I mean. I don’t think so. Do you?”

“I dunno, they’re looking a little chummy. Kind of a quick turn around for those two, huh?”

Alya chewed on the inside of her cheek and whispered in Nino’s ear. “Down to spy on them studying in the library?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

[megaphonemonday]

#keepherinthegame drabble - we are an ocean

In honor of @pitchstreetteam‘s March #KeepHerIntheGame campaign and this post, here’s a little Pitch oneshot for the prompt Author’s Choice.

There’s still one (1!!) day left to send in your baseballs! You can even send them straight to Fox from Amazon! For more details, check here!

“C’mon, rookie,” came Mike’s voice through the flimsy curtain that was the only barrier between Ginny’s privacy and 24 men in various states of undress. She didn’t need to check the gap between the fabric, knew she’d pulled it closed, but did anyway at the interruption. Not that she thought Lawson would actually try to peek. It was just reflex. “We’re going out.”

“Out?”

Ginny stood from the little stool that had been afforded her in the Marlins guest clubhouse and twitched the curtains aside. There, standing with his back to her nook, was Mike Lawson, dressed in his ever-present leather jacket, though it had to be pushing 90 outside.

At the rustle of fabric, he turned, casting a cursory glance over her.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that Mr. Padre introduced me to this place himself, and now I take all the rookies there on their first road trip to Miami.”

“All the rookies?”

Mike frowned, chomping on his gum. “Well, it’s supposed to be if boy wonder ever gets out of the showers,” he griped.

Ginny grinned. He squinted back, but she was sure there was a smile hiding under that beard.

“If you’re looking for someone to get him out of there, you’re asking the wrong teammate.” Mike rolled his eyes, but Ginny continued, “You try flushing the toilets? That always worked on my brother.”

That earned a laugh, Mike’s eyes crinkling shut. “You must’ve been a nightmare to live with, Baker.”

“I was a perfect delight,” she countered, grabbing her backpack and stepping out of her curtained niche.

“Sure you were,” Mike allowed, bumping her shoulder companionably.

Ginny was about to protest when Livan appeared, swathed in a towel and steam. He caught her looking and sent her a wink, smirking as she rolled her eyes, but didn’t look away. What? Evelyn would kill her if she found out Ginny’d missed a prime ogling target.

At her side, Mike just grumbled and picked up the pace, an arm steering her forward when she tried to linger.

“Move it, Livan,” he tossed over his shoulder. “We’re leaving in ten with or without you.”  

Livan appeared with a minute to spare, smirking at the glower on his captain’s face.

“We going or not, Lawson?” he asked, breezing straight on by.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be just Mike and the rookies. Apparently, plenty of other Padres remembered their first visit to Miami fondly enough to tag along.  

Which was definitely a good thing. If it had just been her, Mike, and Livan, Ginny couldn’t begin to imagine what an awkward night it would be. She had very little interest in coming in between their weird, alpha male pissing contest. Especially since they both sulked every time she told them to grow up.

The buffer would be good.

Ginny nudged Blip as everyone piled into the cars waiting to whisk them off to Miami team bonding time. Ginny knew she’d get stuck in the middle somewhere and was glad she’d opted for shorts to deal with the Florida heat. Bad enough that she had to put up with the body heat of two bulky ballplayers, Ginny didn’t want to think about having to deal with the sweaty cling of her usual work out leggings.

“Do I need to be worried about what’s gonna happen?” She asked, wrinkling her nose as her thighs stuck to the leather seats.

The center fielder grinned, and opened his mouth to reply, but Mike cut in from her other side.

“No hints, Sanders! It’s gotta be a surprise.”

Was this some sort of delayed hazing ritual? Had Livan annoyed the rest of the team that now she was going to get caught in the crossfire in the name of rookie initiation? Possibilities started swirling through Ginny’s head. They built and built, blowing way out of proportion to the information she had. Not that Ginny’s brain seemed to care. Not when it had the opportunity to send her spiralling.

“You’re not filling me with confidence, here, Lawson,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light.

Mike must have heard the subtext, though, because he leaned slightly into her. His bulky, leather-covered arm shouldn’t have been comforting, but Ginny found the contact reassuring. She took a deep breath and tried to let go of the tangle of thoughts that’d invaded her brain.

By the time they pulled up to their destination, Ginny’d mostly gotten a handle on herself. She still felt a little jittery and the nondescript brick building without even a sign signaling its purpose was not helping matters.

Still, she could hear the whooping and laughter of her teammates as they piled out of the cars ahead and behind hers. Butch had his arm wrapped around Livan’s shoulders, herding the younger man inside with a friendly grin. No one was trading mischievous looks, or seemed like they were planning anything too ridiculous. Maybe this was just a team tradition.

Ginny clambered out of the backseat and allowed Blip and Mike to herd her inside.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Ginny blinked, sure she was seeing things.

It was just a bar. A bar with a setup for a live band and a dance floor, but still just a bar.

Sending her captain an incredulous look, “This is it?”

“It?” he protested. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, rookie. Every great Padre since Tony Gwynn himself has eaten here their first night in Miami.”

“Well, what was with all the secrecy for, old man?” she demanded, trying to ignore the way her face was heating even with the bar’s air conditioning on full blast.

Mike shrugged, heading to an empty table, forcing Ginny and Blip to trail along behind.

Blip answered when it became clear Mike wouldn’t. “It’s just tradition,” he explained, settling in next to Lawson. “Let the rookies work themselves into a knot as they worry we’re gonna do something like make ‘em skinny dip and steal their clothes.”

“I would’ve murdered you,” Ginny replied, automatic, sinking into her own seat. “Wait is that what you thought was gonna happen?”

He immediately busied himself flagging down a server. On the other side of the table, Mike grinned and leaned in conspiratorially. Ginny couldn’t help but lean in, too.

“He made me promise that whatever happened, no one could tell Evelyn.”

“Tell Evelyn what?” she laughed, nose wrinkling.

“That he’s terrified of the ocean.”

“Are you serious?”

“There are sharks in the ocean, Ginny! And lord knows what else! People are out of their goddamn minds if they think it’s acceptable to swim in the ocean.”

“You live like two miles from the beach.”

Blip shifted grumpily. “The wife wants what she wants.”

Salvamini, who’d been walking by with a tray of beers laughed and made a whiplash sound out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, Gio?” Blip shot back, a mock glare taking over his face. “Who was it who was just complaining about making three separate midnight grocery runs to keep up with his pregnant wife’s cravings?”

“He’s got you there, dude,” Dusty crowed, clapping Salvi on the back and nearly upsetting the tray of drinks.

After that, it seemed like everyone had something to say, and soon, Ginny relaxed into the friendly bickering of her teammates.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just go with the flow, stop worrying so much.

Which was how Ginny found herself standing in the rolling waves of the ocean, her grown teammates shrieking and splashing each other in the surf.

During a lull in the evening, after the band played and everyone danced and Livan nearly cried at the familiar ropa vieja, they’d all started talking. Shooting the shit. For some reason or other, Ginny’d let slip that she hadn’t had a chance to visit the beach back in San Diego, hadn’t ever been to the beach, actually.

A hush fell over the normally rowdy Padres. Mike and Blip shared a wordless look that somehow contained an entire conversation, simultaneously pushed their chairs back, and stood, throwing money down on the table.

Ginny just stared up at them, and then the rest of the guys who were following suit. “Uh, you guys got somewhere to be?”

“Catch up, Baker,” Mike drawled, a grin lighting up his face. “We’re taking your ass to the beach.”

And they did. 

Ginny’s sneakers and phone were abandoned somewhere near the parking lot and she was covered in goosebumps, but she didn’t want to move. She just tipped her head back and breathed in the salt spray as the ocean rolled against her legs.

Mike had just waded off dunk Livan, but only after he’d picked her up and spun her around, threatening to toss her in. She couldn’t protest, just clung to his neck and shrieked with laughter and dizziness. He finally set her back on her feet, though, and went off in search of another victim. 

Ginny could still feel the warmth of his hand where he’d cupped her elbow to make sure she was steady before he left. Somehow, she knew it would take more than a few deep breaths to find her bearings again. 

A voice cut through her giddy daze. 

“You’re all gonna get eaten by sharks!” Blip called from beyond the safety of the high tide mark. “And I’m gonna let everyone know that I told y’all!”

Ginny turned, laughing, and slogged her way up to where he sat in the cool sand. She was still chuckling when she plopped down beside him. It felt good, laughing at her teammates being silly and not because it was the only thing that would keep her sane.

Laying back against the sand and knowing it would be hell to get out of her hair, she squinted up at the sky. There weren’t any stars. At least not that she could see. The lights of Miami drowned them out.

“I’m glad I came out tonight,” she announced into the night.

Blip replied with a snort, “Like Lawson would’ve let you weasel your way out of this.”

She hummed her acknowledgement, but chewed on her lip in thought. Blip waited patiently, the hollering of their teammates mere background noise.

“Just, sometimes when I come out with you guys, I feel like I’m tagging along. Like I’m someone’s little sister that you all put up with because it’s easier than telling me to go away. And then sometimes, it’s like I’m eating up all the attention just because of who I am.” She paused, considering the light, floaty feeling buoying through her chest. “But I didn’t feel like that tonight, so I’m glad I came.”

With a heavy sigh, Blip stretched out beside her, a warm presence on the cooling beach. “I know this doesn’t really help anything, but you gotta stop worrying so much, Ginny,” he told her, knocking his knee against hers companionably. “You’re one of us, now. A Padre.”

She knew that. She did. After the way the guys stepped up for her in San Francisco, literally baring all, it had been hard to deny. Still, while she knew some of them did it for her, for the team, Ginny’d resigned herself to the fact that at least a few of them had done it just for the chance to be in the Body Issue.

She’d learned not to let that kind of shit bother her.

But tonight was different. There weren’t any snarky comments, not even when Ginny clearly exhibited her two left feet when Livan pulled her into a complex salsa on the dance floor. Sure, they teased and joked, but it didn’t have the same current of hostility that she’d gotten so used to in the minors.

“Yeah,” she replied, wriggling her toes in the sand and smiling at her friend. “I guess I am.”