AN: Thanks for requesting this, Corgi! The prompt was for a story with six specific miraculous holders, flirting, and a indirect(?) reveal, and for it to be dedicated to all her friends for being so kind and supportive. I made the mistake of including instant messages again, but at least there's no timestamps to haunt me.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc

"Just you today, Bug?" were the words Chat Noir greeted her with when she landed on the rooftop with ease.

She shrugged and placed her bandalore around her waist for later use. "I was already running late, so if no one else turns up, I guess so."

The days of being fumbling teenagers trying to understand their powers were over (well, for Chat—he confided in her that his twentieth birthday was the previous month), and they'd honed their skills through years of experience. Once upon a time, she'd screamed while using the bandalore that appeared when she triggered the magical transformation, and it had since developed into her overcoming her fear of heights, along with a thrill that hadn't been there before when she rode high amusement park rides.

"It's been a while since it was just us," he mused, leaning into her so their shoulders touched when she sat down beside him. There had been a time where they'd been awkward acquaintances, trying to understand the sudden world of being a superhero, but they'd grown into being each other's closest friend's. "Got any vague updates for your life that you'd like to share with me?"

As her body had changed with age, his had broadened and became taller, so much so that she came to his chest when they were standing side-by-side. It was a stark difference to when they'd been almost the same height, back when they'd first been chosen for their roles.

Marinette grinned. "Is that your subtle way of asking about my love life?"

He batted his eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. "Maybe."

The green sclera of his eyes looked pretty in the limited lighting. While her spotted mask didn't change the appearance of her eyes, his, along with extending further down his nose and being completely black, allowed him to see in the dark. It was quite the trade, but she preferred being able to undo any of the damages—including injuries—that happened during fights.

She snorted, pushing him away without much force, but he dramatically fell to the side with an offended gasp escaping his lips. "Ladybug!"

Sometimes, she wondered whether she was selfish to consider a masked villain terrorising their city the best thing to happy to her. With every infected civilian that was forced to due Papillon's bidding, Marinette had learned to use her powers better, to depend on Chat and trust him completely, and the friendship that came from that couldn't compare to the one she had with her best friend during her normal life.

"You don't ask me about this whenever anyone else is here," she pointed out, leaning back and resting her weight on her palms as she stared up at the sky above them. "Are you scared of being teased?"

Chat rolled his eyes. "Five against one isn't my ideal way to spend time."

"Oh?" Marinette let out a laugh. "You're counting me in with them?"

"You're practically their ringleader," he accused without any heat. "They seemed to idolise you a lot more than me in the beginning, too."

The stress of being constantly on edge and wondering when the next attack would be had led them to choosing to entrust four others with their secrets, while not telling the other who they'd selected. Marinette had selected two of her friends, ones that she knew that had slighted by the villain in the past and honestly wanted to help in any way they could, and she assumed that Chat had done the same, too.

It was a bit strange that she didn't know the identities of her five closest friends.

She shook her head at that. "We both know that's a lie," Marinette rejected. "It just so happens that we've surpassed being untouchable, so now they think it's perfectly fine to tease us."

"I blame you," he accused, falling back against the rooftop, and putting his arms behind his head to prop it up. "You started this all off by having the bright idea of recruiting some help, now I barely get to see you alone."

They'd grown wiser, no longer patrolling at night and losing sleep that they desperately needed. Instead, they paid attention to news and had alerts on their phones to tell them when there had been an attack somewhere in the city. They'd figured out that Papillon only sent out their tainted butterflies during the day, to which they named akumas, never in the late hours of the night where most were asleep. Whether it was to conjure the most terror or if it just didn't match up with their schedule, they hadn't decided.

"Well, we're alone," she offered, turning her head to look at him fondly. "Are you going to have your wicked way with me?"

His grin showed his white teeth. "I wish."

"Yeah," Marinette whispered, a smile tugging on her lips. "Me, too."

Identities were important, terribly so. They were worried that if Papillon ever found out who they were, in their crazed pursuit for all the magical accessories that enabled anyone to transform, that their loved ones would be harmed. From the very first day, their kwamis—the mysterious beings that were the reasons the accessories worked at all—had warned them to be careful and keep that information to themselves.

So, even six years down the line, she didn't know Chat Noir as anything more than Chat, her crime-fighting partner. It was because of that that they decided to try and meet up once a week on a designated day, whether to spar or just sit and talk, to keep their friendship strong instead of only seeing each other when there was a disaster.

It wasn't much, but it was all they really had.

Chat told her vaguely about his week, never mentioning the real names of people, whether he worked or was still in education, but it was still nice to share the little they could.

He reached up a gloved hand and ran it through his blond hair, pushing it away to reveal his forehead for a while. "Have you moved in with your friends yet, like you planned to?"

The fact that he remembered that, something she'd told him in passing more than a few months before, caused her smile to widen. "Yes!" she confirmed, enthusiastic. "A few days ago, actually. It's not as drab as we thought it would be, but it's not exactly high-end."

"Sounds nice," Chat murmured, a bit of longing in his voice. "I'm still living with my parents."

While he knew she was close with her own—though he had no idea who they were—she'd learned over the years that he didn't quite have the best relationship with his. From what she knew, Chat's distant family was made up for by the close friends he'd had from around the time they'd started working together.

Using the excuse that they had a part-time job seemed like a good idea, at the time, two years ago. It was only when one of their team-mates—and what a ridiculous title that was, but it was what they were—pointed out that they wouldn't be earning money by saving the city that they had to think of a different excuse.

"Is it strange that it feels like I haven't seen you in forever?" Chat questioned.

Back when it had just been the two of them all the time, they'd sometimes bring dinner to share, but it had gotten too expensive for six, and inconvenient when they didn't know how many would turn up. For some, transforming just to send a message on their conjured weapons was too much hassle, so it was always a surprise to see who would turn up.

"No." Marinette brought her knees up to her chest, resting her head on top of them as she had her head tilted his way. "We don't really get time to talk when we're saving the city."

He closed his eyes. "There's a lot that I want to tell you but... I can't."

She hummed in agreement.

"I get kind of jittery when there hasn't been an attack in a while, you know?" he continued, letting out a sigh. "I've tried a few hobbies to calm down, but nothing's really done the trick. It doesn't help that I also tried to jump over a high fence on instinct the other day, and people keep bringing it up."

It was something she understood well. While the suits made it so they could jump higher and perform acrobatic feats that they wouldn't be able to normally, along with making it so they couldn't get injured, it also meant that when they weren't paying attention, they thought they could replicate those acts in their normal lives, too.

Trying to inject some positivity in their conversation, Marinette pointed out, "At least you don't have to go to the gym, right?"

Chat laughed. "When I try and say I'm too lazy for working out, the utter looks of despair and doubt are quite amusing."

"Same." She grinned, having experienced growing into her muscles slowly. They'd developed alongside her body naturally with every transformation, and it had resulted in a few appreciative looks when the weather turned hot. "This is still kind of surreal to me, really. I never thought I'd grow up to have my alter ego sold on t-shirts and toys for children."

"I'll have you know, I also own some Ladybug merchandise."

Trying not to laugh, Marinette corrected herself, "Toys for children and obsessed fans, then."

"I'm your biggest fan," he shamelessly corrected, sitting up beside her with a large grin.

She tucked some of her dark-coloured hair behind her ear. "Isn't it highly frowned upon to date a fan?"

Chat's smile just grew larger. "Are you hinting that you'd like to date me?"

It was something she'd come to terms with slowly. Seeing Chat rarely, mostly in dangerous situation, had led to fond feelings building up over time, and once she'd grown out of romanticising her crushes and dreaming of the impossible, she found herself wondering whether Chat would react the same way that her dates did, only to be disappointed that they couldn't compare to how happy she felt in the small amount of time she had with him.

Other than keeping their identities purposely a secret from each other, there was an added defence where even if anyone was to hold a picture of Chat Noir next to who he actually was without the black form-fitting suit, they wouldn't be able to confirm that it was him—it applied to her, and the rest of their team, too, which showed the wonders of magic when it worked in their favour.

"I think I was a bit more blunt than just hinting," she teased, aware that her face was beginning to feel warm, but the colour would be hidden underneath her mask. "Whenever Papillon's gone, I'm absolutely going to ask you on a date."

The mask moved to keep his skin hidden, not showing his eyelids even when he blinked, as his eyes crinkled at the corners from his smile. "What if I beat you to it?"

It was either of them that replied.

"Fucking gross," came from beside them, and Marinette was startled enough to turn her head around quickly, a bit wide-eyed at Queen Bee's sudden appearance. "I don't know why I even bothered to turn up if you two are just going to flirt."

With blonde-coloured hair that was pulled into a high ponytail and a yellow-and-black outfit, there was no mistaking the animal that her kwami resembled. Queen Bee had been the second to last to join, the second that Chat had given the accessory to.

Which meant that, somehow, he knew who she was, while Marinette had no idea.

"Is it like seeing your parents kiss?" Chat asked, and she was able to hear the amusement in his voice as he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for an one armed hug.

Queen Bee wrinkled her nose. "Even worse since I'm pretty sure I've read about this exact scene happening before."

"Read?" Marinette queried, scooting out of Chat's embrace with ease. "Is there something you want to tell us, Queenie?"

Queen Bee pursed her lips. It wasn't clear whether it was reluctance to answer or her distaste for the nickname (she insisted it was useless when it was the same amount of syllables, and made sure to dramatically display her disapproval whenever one of them used it). Then again, she disliked it when she was just called Bee, too.

"I think she might be a fan of the content we inspire, Ladybug," Chat interjected smoothly. "Something about the stories she and Rena recommend to each other when they think we aren't listening, perhaps."

She blinked. "What?"

It wasn't a foreign concept to her. Of course, there had been different kinds of fan content created for them other the years, and her friends had definitely mentioned a few stories they'd read online or the drawings that had caught their eye, but it wasn't something she'd expected her friends from her other side of life to partake in.

There had always been something weird about seeing herself everywhere that she'd stayed away from them, particularly when it was in the written form.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Queen Bee replied, a bit high-pitched, a clear sign that she was lying. "Go back to your flirting and ignore me."

"No, you said we're gross," Marinette pointed out, crossing her arms. "Come sit down, Queenie. Be our third wheel and tell us all about your life."

Queen Bee grimaced. "As much as I like talking about myself, Chat's kind of glaring at me right now."

"My face is always like this."

"Oh, is it?" She raised her brow, the mask adjusting to keep her eyebrows hidden with the movement. "It's a wonder why Ladybug's interested in you at all, then."

Marinette snorted. "Okay, you two—"

"You're clearly interested in us, too, if your browser history is anything to go by," Chat said, the smirk able to be heard in his voice. Whether it was a reference to knowing her in person, or just from what he knew, she had to wonder.

"I'm not the one writing about you two!"

He queried, "Does that mean you know someone who does?"

Queen Bee tossed her ponytail over her shoulders in a move that was clearly practised in her everyday life. "Rena, of course."

Sometimes, Marinette wondered how her best friend was able to keep secrets when she was absolutely abysmal at lying. Alya couldn't tell a straight-faced lie to save herself in a classroom since they'd met as teenagers, and yet, she was able to keep her identity as Rena Rouge a secret, and, somehow, not tell Marinette about her hobby despite the fact they'd just started living together.

With a sigh, she put her face in her hands, closing her blue-coloured eyes. "I can actually believe that."

Chat had the gall to ask as his first question, "Is it good, at least?"

"It's as nauseating as you two when you're alone, yes." Queen Bee sniffed. "That's if she's not writing dumb stories where Chat's magical power is actually that his tail's a wand."

Marinette had always been supportive of her best friend's passion. When Ladybug and Chat Noir had emerged, Alya had decided to be a journalist and dedicate a blog to them, sneaking out to capture the akuma fights on camera to post for everyone to see. It had only changed when she had to assist in the battles as Rena when Marinette had gifted her a miraculous, meaning Alya had to skip reporting some fights and only offer links to offer websites when there had been an attack.

So, it was wonder that she hadn't heard about it beforehand.

"And you read them all, don't you?" Chat quipped.

"I also write my fair share of terrible stories," Queen Bee revealed as she raised her hand, as though she was inspecting her fingernails, even though her gloves covered them completely. "It's quite fun to think of all the ways to torture you two."

Marinette let out a laugh. "You sure do have an odd way of showing your love."

"At least I don't do it in front of reporters for the whole city to see," she retorted without any heat. "What you two see in each other is fucking beyond me. I now know you're just dorks."

Chat exclaimed, "It's okay to admit you love us, Queenie! There's no shame in admitting that you've passed on the title of Ladybug's biggest fan to me."

Queen Bee bristled. "It's different now I actually know her!"

"You mean you don't love me any more?" Marinette interjected, dramatically jutting out her lower lip as she cupped her face, palms against her jawline. "What did I do to lose it?"

"Clearly, it's because instead of you, I was the one to pick her," Chat contemplated, dramatically stroking his chin in a way that he knew amused her. "Right?"

With narrowed eyes, Queen Bee shot back, "Or maybe I'm over admiring her because we're friends now?"

"I'm your friend?" Marinette grinned. "Queenie, I didn't know you felt that way—"

"I'm leaving," she interrupted loudly, lifting one hand to deliberately show a rude gesture. "I hope you get tossed into the river the next time I see you, Chat Noir."

Chat tried to sound offended as he shouted after her, "But what about Ladybug?"

Rather than a reply, Queen Bee jumped off the roof, leaving the two of them up there to stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

-x-

When she'd moved in with her best friends, Alya and Nino—a couple that had been together since their early teens when they'd met—Marinette hadn't considered the slim chance of running into any invited guests when she was bleary-eyed and just stumbling out of bed.

And yet, there in the kitchen, as she stretched her arms over her head, was a familiar face that she hadn't seen for a couple of months.

Adrien had been her longest crush, back when she'd first taken up the mantle of being Ladybug, and she'd been embarrassed obsessed about every interaction they had. It had thankfully calmed down after they parted ways for further education, and they usually only saw each other when their group of friends met up, which wasn't particularly often.

So, to see him staring at her in surprise, his lips parted as his green-coloured eyes flickered down to where her abdomen was on display from her pose, was a bit of a shock.

Marinette slowly dropped her arms and blinked. "Hello," she offered, a bit stumped for words.

"Hey," he returned, and averted his gaze before clearing his throat. "I just—hi. I didn't know you'd be here."

Her brow furrowed. "I live here?"

"You do?" Adrien questioned, surprise clear in his voice. "I mean, yes. You do, of course. I knew that."

Shooting him a confused look, she went back to her original task of getting something to drink. It was earlier than she wanted to be on the weekend, but noise had woken her up. It was usually Nino's alarm, that was always blasting music, that managed to be heard through her thin wall, but it likely that it was Adrien's arrival that had been the cause.

"Here for Nino?" she asked once she'd set the glass beside the sink to wash later.

He nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his blond-coloured hair. "Yeah, but I'm a bit early. He let me in then went to shower."

There had been a time where being in his presence had caused her heart to beat nervously, and her palms to become clammy, but that had passed. They were somewhat friends, able to talk whenever they did meet up, and they did send each other texts—something she used to desperately want—but it was rare.

He was Nino's best friend, and Marinette's almost friend whenever they saw each other.

"Who did you think lived with them?" Marinette found herself asking, curious.

Adrien looked sheepish as he raised a hand to touch the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that she'd found endearing in her early teenage years. "I wasn't really paying attention to know?"

It was a sufficient explanation. "Fair enough," she agreed, returning the small smile that had happened from her answer. "Are you usually up this early in the morning?"

He stared. "It's past ten."

Marinette stared right back, lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. "My question still stands."

"Not a morning person, then?" Adrien questioned, tilting his head curiously as he ran a hand through his blond hair before it fell down to his side.

For a moment, she wondered whether the marks from her pillow were visible on her face. "Early morning classes are the bane of my existence," she answered, reaching up to wipe her eyes to try and make herself seem more awake. "The plan was to sleep for as long as possible, but that kind of got interrupted."

"Sorry," he apologised, but it didn't sound sincere. "I didn't know anyone would be in."

She shot a look to the other bedroom door that was closed. "Oh, is Alya out?"

"Early shift today, apparently," he replied without any hesitation. "Nino's already complained about her schedule to me enough that I remember it more than my own—which is quite impressive, actually. Too bad I can't put my skills to good use."

She snorted. "I'm sure you're worth more than being a walking calender."

With a grin that showed his white teeth, Adrien put a hand upon his chest. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You're literally a model," she shot back, unimpressed. "The amount of compliments you get in a day probably add up to mine in a year."

With a famous designer as a father, Adrien's career choice had been picked from before he'd transferred to her school when she was thirteen. He didn't seem to dislike it, which was a good sign, and it had gained him success for his own name as his features had filled out, and his shoulders had broadened with age. Looking at him at the age was twenty was almost surreal compared to the scrawny boy that she'd had a crush on.

"Maybe that's my calling in life, then," Adrien mused, the corners of his eyes crinkling from his smile. "To give you compliments daily to make you feel appreciated."

Raising her eyebrows, she pointed out, "That just sounds like a word of the day calender gone wrong."

"Or even better if I manage to fit in a complicated word each day," he responded, thoughtfully tapping a finger against his chin. "That would be beneficial for your brain and your ego."

It was silly, really. Whenever she spoke to Adrien, they were either pushed together when Alya and Nino wandered off somewhere together, or their other friends had roped them into the same conversation. It was rare for them to just be one-on-one, and she couldn't think of the last time they'd been together from their own accord.

The words he offered would've made her overjoyed before, but they just made her laugh. "I'm perfectly fine as I am, thank you," she said, voice a bit breathy from her amusement. "You can save your compliments for another pretty girl."

He shifted his feet, red appearing on the top of his ears, and she felt a little bad to have embarrassed him. It hadn't been her intention to, but they weren't particularly close friends that could joke around as casually, no matter how much she wasn't against the idea.

Before she could respond, try to ease his embarrassment a little, loud noises started to be heard from the ceiling above.

Marinette's facial features twisted to show her displeasure.

"Is that... normal?" Adrien questioned once he caught sight of her expression, curiosity clear in his voice.

"So far?" Marinette flickered up above for a bit before she returned her gaze back to him, frowning. "Every single day. Whoever lives up there likes to wear heels and gallop around like a fucking horse."

A surprised laugh escaped him. "I don't quite think they're galloping, Marinette."

"You can't convince me otherwise." She sniffed.

The apartment they'd selected was relatively close to her university, and not a far distance from all three of their jobs, which worked out well in the end. Even if Marinette had to walk for close to half an hour to make it in the mornings, it beat the other choices—the only downfall was the stomps that could be heard when the apartment above theirs was home.

After Nino had appeared, his dark-coloured curls wet and dripping down to his shirt before he passed by with a grin and went into his bedroom to get dressed, Adrien tried to pick up the conversation again and asked, "Have you met your neighbours yet?"

"Seen a few, none were really that interested in being friendly," Marinette answered truthfully with a shrug. It was enough that their neighbours didn't play music loudly in the middle of the night, and they returned the favour. "The only annoyance so far is the horse."

He snorted. "You can't just refer to them as a horse."

"Watch me, Agreste." She grinned.

Returning the smile, Adrien slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he stated, "I think I might have some bad news for you, though."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head and causing some of his hair to fall into his eyes, so he blinked rapidly to get rid of the annoyance. "You're not the only one I know in this building."

Well, that was expected.

Before she could open her mouth to smartly point out that he knew their friends, he interrupted her with, "Chloé came back from abroad a few months ago and moved in with her boyfriend here. I'm surprised you haven't bumped into her yet."

Chloé Bourgeois wasn't someone she'd thought about often. When she was younger, Chloé had been a constant annoyance, a class-mate that antagonised her through the years, and just like when she'd parted with Adrien due to their educational choices, she hadn't seen Chloé for years.

"...Really?"

"Really," Adrien said, a bit sheepish as his gaze flickered to the ceiling. "She's on the floor above you. I'd bet good money that she might be the horse that's annoying you so much."

It was poetic, really.

Marinette squinted. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Absolutely not," Adrien assured her, a lopsided grin appearing as he fetched his cell phone from his pocket and pressed a button to illuminate the screen. "I'll even show you picture proof; well, of the boyfriend, since I'm sure you'll be really interested to see who it is."

When he'd found what he was looking for, a hum escaped him as he crossed the room to stand by her side, holding the phone out for her to see.

The picture was proof for more than who her ex-class-mate's boyfriend was; it showed that the two that she'd had the responsibility of gifting magical accessories to lived in the same building as her.

She didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Le Paon—Paon, and Pao-Pao when Queen Bee made fun of him—had been the last to join them. Marinette had wondered who she could trust, not wanting to choose everyone that was her closest friend without considering anyone else first, and her decision to select her shy class-mate, Nathaniel, had been one that she'd consulted her kwami about first.

He was shy, spoke softly when he was in crowds, was clearly embarrassed when attention had been directed at him in class, and she hadn't seen him outside of his transformation for close to a year. As with the others, he'd pursued education elsewhere, focusing on his art, which she knew wasn't hindered by his superhero duties that popped up every now and then.

When he was Le Paon, with his purple-coloured suit that clashed with his red hair, making it stand out more against his pale skin, he seemed more confident than usual; an asset to their team, even when he'd screeched the first time he'd tested his powers with her and Chat present.

The last she'd known, Nathaniel hadn't been Chloé's biggest fan.

"Good for them, I guess," she said when she realised that Adrien was expecting a reply. "Never thought I'd see the day where they'd like each other."

Adrien just grinned. "They're pretty sweet together."

"I'm not going to believe it until I see it."

Before she had the chance to meet either Chloé or Nathaniel in person—or even spot them across the street when she came home, which was surprising in itself—their weekend meetup came, and she was thankful that her friends were so used to her coming and going that they didn't question where she was disappearing to when she left through the front door.

She'd considered making up a friend to visit, but then she knew that Alya would've wanted to see pictures, just to know what they looked like.

So, the next time she saw Nathaniel, it was him as Le Paon on top of large building. Along with the weapons that their transformations conjured aiding them in fights, each had the function of access to the internet, a map of the city, and little markers on the maps that showed where each of them were (that only worked if they were transformed).

The problem with turning up late meant that like Queen Bee the previous week, the scenes that were stumbled upon sometimes seemed private and something that wouldn't have happened with the others there. Usually, it was reserved for her and Chat, as they were the closest out of all of them, or a bonding moment between a few that couldn't talk often when there was so many of them present. It was hard to equally contribute in conversation when there was six of them, of course.

It was why they'd set up a system for attacks; as Marinette and Chat were, technically, the only ones specifically needed for every fight—since only Marinette could purify the akumas and turn back time on the damage to the city, and the injuries civilians suffered, and Chat refused to shrug off his duty and abandon her after the newcomers had appeared—they'd finally settled with having the other four take it in turns to come.

Of course, sometimes, two turned up at once since they'd gotten their times confused, especially when there had been a few weeks between attacks.

Marinette had walked in on Chat trying to get his hands underneath Carapace's hood (which couldn't be removed, much like the rest of their suits), Queen Bee pulling on the part of Rena's outfit that looked like a multi-coloured tail, and the usual bickering, but none of it really compared to what she was seeing.

She'd barely adjusted to the knowledge that Nathaniel was in a relationship with someone she knew, so to see his arms wrapped around Queen Bee's waist as they kissed, and her hands were musing his red-coloured hair, made her gawk.

As they were too wrapped in what they were doing—what an awkward image it was for her to see—and she didn't want to confront either of them if the knowledge of his girlfriend wasn't known, Marinette did the best thing she could in the situation.

She swiftly left.

When she returned home to a quiet apartment, absent of Alya's or Nino's presence since they were either at work or busy with something for their university course, the only one that she could tell about what she saw was Tikki, her kwami.

-x-

With Rena Rouge being her actual best friend—without knowing that Marinette as Ladybug was really Marinette—it meant that they tended to get along well. Sometimes, Chat got jealous and pushed the red-haired superhero away with his staff, or wedged himself between the two of them, but for the most part, everyone seemed to get along well.

Rena, with her primarily orange-coloured outfit, and Carapace, he was dressed almost head-to-toe in green, tended to stand out when they were together. They'd been photographed during their meetups when it was still light outside more than a few times, and whenever a civilian spotted them in the street, they tended to try and take pictures with them, or strike up a conversation.

It was understandable, really. Just like Alya with her blog, there were others that made a living out of reporting when a superhero was spotted in the city, trying to highlight their destinations and figure out a pattern, or even focus on just one of them.

And then, there were the creators that made fan content.

She didn't mean to find it, honestly.

Queen Bee had mentioned that Alya dabbled in it before, but she hadn't looked into it—she hadn't intended to. Marinette had offered to do their laundry since their schedules were busy, and she definitely didn't expect to walk into Alya and Nino's bedroom to see Alya's laptop left open on the bed, the tab that was currently open glaringly obvious when she was close enough to read the text.

An incredulous laugh escaped her when she saw the username.

CaraPiss was unique, at least.

She didn't mention anything when Alya awkwardly asked whether she'd seen her screen later that evening, trying to look confused and not knowing like she knew what Alya was talking about. Later, when she was contemplating whether to sleep early or not, she typed in the username she'd seen, trying to find the right page.

The content she saw before finding the right page was a little bit concerning.

The description Alya had on her profile was vague, not revealing anything about herself or linking to any other sites, and that was a big enough clue that Alya considered it a private account. She usually prided herself on linking ways viewers could contact her or view more of her content.

There was an vast amount of stories, and a lot of them had usernames at the top of the ones that had requested the specific prompts.

A large majority of the names were puns or something related to one or more of their superhero names, and the sheer amount of comments and praise Alya received was a bit overwhelming.

She stayed up until her eyes were growing heavy, her gaze half-lidded as she stared at her illuminated phone screen in the dark, before giving a sigh and shoving the device underneath her pillow, determined to remember the weirdest details she'd seen to bring up the next time she saw Alya as Rena.

Unfortunately, that week was one where Papillon deemed it fit to have an attack. Thankfully, with the years that had passed, it meant that the city was used to having alarms and directing civilians to safety, so when she was at her shift at work, she wasn't under the threat of being fired when she slipped out.

She almost laughed in Carapace's face when Alya's username popped into her head.

At the weekend, Marinette made sure not to arrive late, not after the last time. She was the first outside from the lack of dots on her map, and that meant she was the one to choose the location.

She pursed her lips when she saw Paon was the second to arrive.

"Hey," he offered, running a gloved hand through his hair before he yawned, the material of his mask stretching so his eyelids wouldn't be exposed. It was a weird feature, one they all had, and it had taken years to get used to the appearance of it.

"Hello," Marinette replied, a bit curt. "It's good you're here first, for once."

He cracked an eye open as he finished his yawn.

"You see," she began, leaning back and purposely talking slowly. "I ended up being a bit delayed last week, so imagine my surprise when I finally arrived, only to see—"

That caught his attention.

Paon flushed, the mask doing nothing to hide the redness of his cheeks that matched his face. It was a trait that he'd always had; the combination of pale skin and no lack of nerves meant that he always gave away when he was feeling embarrassed.

She tapped her fingers on her thigh. "Well, to see you cheating on your girlfriend, actually."

An abrupt laugh escaped him. "What?"

A bit surprised at the reaction, Marinette felt the need to add, "To be fair, I didn't know you had a girlfriend until last week."

When Paon—it was so much easier to refer to him as that name when there was a mask in the way—spoke, his voice wasn't stable due to him trying not to laugh. "And you—you think I'm cheating on her?"

She blinked. "Well, Queen Bee clearly isn't her."

"I—" Paon cut himself off, putting a hand over his face as he laughed and sat down beside her. The reaction she'd gotten from him had made her feel unsure, and she shifted her weight as she waited for him to continue. "Oh, this is—I don't even know what to say. We all thought that you and Chat knew."

Marinette furrowed her brow. "Knew about you and Queen Bee?"

"No, no," he denied, shaking his head and causing his hair to move. "Did you two not—not consult or something when you chose us?"

"That would've been revealing who we actually knew," she pointed out blankly. "There's a reason we chose two each; so half would still be protected if one of us blabbed somehow."

His smile was sheepish as he reached up to scratch his cheek. "Yeah, about that..." Paon trailed off, averting his gaze. "I kind of know who Queen Bee is?"

That—that wasn't what she'd expected to hear at all. She'd thought they'd just gotten along well after bonding together, not that they'd carelessly revealed their secrets to each other.

"What?" she asked flatly.

"It was an accident!" he insisted, a hand moving to emphasise his words in a way he did whenever he was nervous. "I—we started dating when she was gone for those few months before, you know? But I didn't know it was her, not until she came through the window of our apartment without realising that I was there."

Of all the things she could've replied—to express her displeasure, or wonder how she hadn't noticed beforehand—all Marinette managed to say was, "Queen Bee is your girlfriend."

He cleared his throat and answered tentatively. "Yes."

"Your girlfriend who used to terrorise you in school," she continued, just as baffled as when she'd found out when they were dating. "I—Chat gave it to her?"

"You're about six years too late to doubt his decision now," Paon pointed out, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, she's been a real help, hasn't she?"

There was a tiny bit of resentment. Jealousy that he knew who Queen Bee was and was able to pursue a relationship with her, while she and Chat continued to put each other's safety first, agreeing that it was too dangerous for them to be friendly outside of their work.

She wetted her lips. "So, she knows who you are, too."

"Yes," he confirmed with only a little hesitation. "From what I know, Rena and Carapace know each other, too."

With a sigh, Marinette really considered whether it had been smart to select people she knew from her same class, all those years ago. Maybe it had been an honest mistake that some of them knew each other, but it was still more than they should've been allowed to.

"Well, this has been terribly enlightening," Marinette said as she checked her bandalore, looking at the incoming dots that were approaching their way. "Looks like everyone's here tonight, which is good. No time like the present to ask for their dirty secrets."

As always when they were all together, there was a lot of talking, and interrupting. Marinette smiled when Chat took a seat beside her before he was roped into a conversation, one which the topic went over her head, and she was content just to talk every now and then, letting everyone else mention what they wanted to first.

She was resting her head in her hands, palms against her jawline as she grinned as Queen Bee shoved Alya aside dramatically.

It was odd that she knew who they both were. She wondered whether the two of them would've been so friendly if they knew, too.

It seemed a good a time as any.

"So," Marinette started when it had grown quiet, crossing her legs as her eyes flickered over to Paon. "A little bird kindly told me some interesting news today."

He rolled his eyes, no longer defending himself when someone called him anything bird-related. He'd ran out of enthusiasm for that years ago.

"You two know each other's identities," she stated, pointing towards Paon and Queen Bee before turning to the other pair. "And, maybe, you two know about each other, too."

Carapace just grinned widely. "It's not like it was easy to hide, you know? To be fair, we did last two years—"

"Five!" Queen Bee interjected, holding a hand up and clenching her fist victoriously. "Fucking losers can't even keep a secret."

"Queenie, neither can you," Rena interrupted, shooting her a half-hearted glare.

Beside her, Chat turned to look at her with a befuddled expression. "I—what?" he whispered, clearly as surprised as she'd been before. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," she replied just as quietly as the others started to bicker beside them. Instead of breaking them up, Marinette bumped her shoulder against Chat's lightly as she said, "Looks like we picked the worst people after all this time."

His body shook as he laughed, and she could feel it. "They're not that bad."

"Rena just pushed Queen Bee over."

"Retaliation." He grinned. "Let them get their frustrations out so we can flirt in peace without being teased."

She returned the smile. "It's not just us who flirt in this group, apparently."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Dating," Marinette clarified, pointing towards where Paon was laughing as Queen Bee smoothed out her ponytail, trying to make sure it hadn't become lopsided. "I thought he was cheating on his girlfriend."

When he turned his head to stare at the two of them, his lips parted in surprise, no sound escaping as he was clearly processing the information. She had to wonder whether he knew who Nathaniel was; or, rather, how acquainted he was with Chloé. Although the blonde-haired female would've never been her choice, Chat had to have been close with her to know what she was like, and therefore trust her.

The eloquent exclamation that escaped him when he'd processed that information was, "What the fuck?"

"Believe me, I was just as shocked when I walked in on them making out last week," she answered, patting his arm sympathetically before she withdrew it, keeping her hands to herself. "This... I know it's not what we were, well, raised to do, but do you know who her boyfriend is?"

Running a hand through his hair, and therefore over the black-coloured cat ears that were sat snugly on his head and couldn't be moved, Chat looked a bit overwhelmed. "I—yeah, I do."

Other than the times where they'd said a civilian's name at the same time, it was a sign that they somewhat knew the same people. Surely, if he knew who Nathaniel was—Nathaniel who hadn't been in her class, let alone school, for years—and Chloé, it meant he'd been close to her sometime in the past.

She didn't know what to think about that.

"Well, you don't know who Rena is, and I have no idea about Carapace," Marinette admitted. "I don't think Paon or Queen Bee do either, so we're somewhat okay."

A laugh of disbelief left him. "This is ridiculous."

"A little," she agreed, lips curling up in amusement. "I found Rena's fanfiction, by the way."

He snorted. "How'd you know it's actually her?"

Marinette's grin widened. "She left the tab open on her laptop."

It was a lot more than she said about their identities usually, and he caught onto that, too. "You're that close to her?" Chat questioned quietly, as though he was expecting no answer to come.

"Not that she knows that," she replied, a hint that she didn't want that to be spread around. Even though she hadn't revealed it before, Marinete trusted him enough to say, "We're friends, that's all. Have been before she started the Ladyblog."

The lopsided grin on his face showed the indents of his cheeks. "But not friends enough to tell you about her stories, however."

"I'm pretty sure I know why now," she muttered, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear. "She takes requests, and a good percentage of them are of us fucking each other."

He choked. "I—what?"

"I know, right?" Marinette said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "After teasing us for so long, it turns out she likes to use my lady at the most intimate times—it made me laugh when I first read it."

Colour blossomed across his face. "What's her username?"

It made her wonder it had made him uncomfortable from the mention of it. Their flirting had advanced along the years, slowly gaining more and more interest, rather than just playfulness, but they'd never gone further than holding hands when they were talking, especially since it was so rare that they were alone.

"CaraPiss."

With a wounded noise, Chat averted his gaze as he admitted, "That's not her account."

She blinked. "It's not?"

"I—it's my friend's," he revealed, stumbling over his pronunciation as he reached a hand up to clasp the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that she knew well. "That's definitely not hers."

"Oh." She deflated a bit, feeling a little dumb that she'd jumped to conclusions immediately. "I guess it makes sense that she wouldn't just have her own page open."

A laugh escaped him as he reached up and patted her head in what was definitely not a comforting way.

-x-

She knew she'd forgotten to ask for something.

Marinette laid on her bed with a sigh, laptop resting on her stomach as she browsed the internet, wondering what to do with her time.

It was only when she remembered that Queen Bee—still not Chloé, no, she hadn't seen her for years—had said that one of the stories involved Chat using his tail as a wand that she started trying to search for it. Surprisingly, it was one of the first that popped up, but the username wasn't a pun of one of their superhero names, sadly.

There was still nothing to connect her to her identity as Alya, however. No links, no added information, and the profile picture was a drawing of Rena that she hadn't seen before.

Nothing out of the usual, then.

When she started to read the stories, noticing how odd their plots were and how some conversations were taken out of context from their own from when all, or some, of them met up, she couldn't hold back her laughter at how ridiculous it all seemed.

Rena was present the next week, as there had been no attacks to warrant her turn to appear. So, it was when her friend had landed and shot them a blinding smile that Marinette stood up, excusing herself from the others as she grabbed onto Rena's wrist and pulled her away.

"Ladybug?" Rena questioned, confusion clear in her voice.

Turning to face her friend, Marinette crossed her arms. "I absolutely do not have a leather fetish," she stated, trying to keep her face straight. "I don't think our suits really count as a material—they're literally magic, aren't they? Therefore, I do not stroke leather gloves and fantasise about Chat Noir in the evenings."

Rena just blinked her hazel-coloured eyes. "I—what?"

"And I absolutely wouldn't be into blindfolded sex."

"I never said you were!" Rena spluttered, tucking some stray hairs behind her ear.

She sniffed. "You work says otherwise."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rena said almost without any emotion, only the high-pitched quality giving her feelings away. "You could've just said if you wanted to accost me in secret, Ladybug. There's no need to drag me away from everyone else."

"Queen Bee already told me it's your work." It wasn't a lie, but it didn't fit the timeline. "Isn't it—I don't know—weird? You're writing about your friends."

Rather than shrink away or deny it, Rena just let out a sigh and said, "Okay, fine. But to be fair, I started that before you even approached me for help."

"No, you didn't," Marinette replied instantly. "Your oldest work is two years old."

"On a different account!" Rena defended, raising her hands up in what she assumed to be exasperation before letting them fall back down to her side. "I made that new one so I could talk to Queenie and post the dumb shit I write, okay? It has no connections to me, so it's perfectly safe."

She squinted. "Nothing on the internet is safe."

With a roll of her eyes, Rena muttered, "It's not like we're out there telling everyone who we are. Besides, if I ever get hacked, they'll just assume I'm roleplaying with her or something. A thrilling scenario where we just talk shit and recommend bad stories."

"And write them."

"You think they're bad?" Placing a hand dramatically on her cheek, Rena's eyebrows furrowed together. "Just stomp on my heart, Ladybug. It'll save me the pain."

Trying not to laugh at her friend's theatrics, Marinette pointed out, "Your latest has me crudely getting off on sniffing a leather glove."

"Are you trying to say you wouldn't get off by sniffing Chat's glove?"

"What? No."

Rena grinned. "I'm not the one that's too chicken to admit their feelings to someone."

Marinette monotonously retorted, "Because you have a boyfriend."

"Stop stalking my real life, Ladybug," Rena said with a flail of her hands, holding her arms up over her face to try and hide her from view. "It's not fair when you know every detail! Besides, Carapace knew how I felt years ago."

There was a lot of things that could've meant, but the unlikely had happened before. Running a hand through her hair, Marinette sighed before she asked, "You're not dating him, are you?"

"Well," Rena started, drawing out the last syllable as she rocked on her heels. "I'm not not dating him?"

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Ignoring the bemused look that was sent her way, laughter escaped her as she sunk down onto her knees, gloved fingers gripping onto the roots of her hair as she wondered whether she was going mad or not. It—the chances of it happening were miniscule, but it seemed to be happening regardless.

The chances of three miraculous holders living in the same building had been ridiculous, and yet, it seemed that five of them did. Five and she was the one to know all of their identities, while the couples had somehow messed up and revealed themselves along the way.

Did they think she would've gotten mad at them?

"Why didn't you say anything?" Marinette asked as Rena sat down beside her, crossing her legs and looking entirely too comfortable for sitting on a rooftop. "I just—you and Paon both, you know that I know of you normally, right?"

There was still that little bit of resentment. Sure, the four of them had kept their identities away from those that weren't their significant other, but she and Chat had kept it from all of them for longer, never even entertaining the idea of giving it out.

"We thought you knew?" It came out sounding like a question, and from the way Rena grimaced, it seemed that she realised that, too. "I mean, I was already dating him before the whole magical sidekick thing. We figured it was just a rule not to bring it up while transformed."

She pursed her lips. "You live together, don't you?"

"Yeah," Rena confirmed with a grin. "With a friend of ours."

"And yet, you haven't managed to reveal yourself to her."

It wasn't like she was ever there to potentially witness it, she guessed. She left at the weekend with vague excuses that her two friends just bought—not pushing any further—and it was clear that it was because they were leaving, too. Then, there was the fact that whenever there was an attack, she had to be absent along with one of them—

If it wasn't for the magic making it so they couldn't be recognised, she would've felt like an idiot. It didn't stop her from feeling like a tiny bit of one, however.

Rena shrugged. "My best friend's kind of... what's the word to use here? She's got a bit of a one-track mind, I guess. If she's busy with something, she doesn't really register anything else going on around her."

It wasn't an insult. "Not someone you'd reveal yourself to, then."

"Oh, no," Rena quickly said, shaking her head. "I didn't even mean to with—with Carapace! I just picked the closet to transform one day because I panicked. It didn't really occur to me that I'd be stuck in there afterwards until he walked out."

She brushed her hair off of her forehead. "That's better than accidentally walking in on him, I guess."

"So I'm better than Queenie?" Rena grinned widely, her white teeth standing out against her tanned skin. "Thanks so much, Ladybug!"

She blinked. "I didn't—"

Rena was already running off to gloat.

-x-

Maybe it was because she saw Alya typing away on her laptop, or the pair of gloves she saw in the store when trying to replace her own due to the cold weather, but Marinette came to the decision to create an account of her own.

The plan was simple—she was going to post the worst stories, make sure to send a message to Rena's account so she knew it was from her, and show her friend just how strange it was to read about herself. It hadn't escaped her notice that Rena hadn't posted any stories from her point of view (which was proven when she scrolled through the next time).

At first, it was a bit hard. Marinette had practised creative writing since she was in secondary school, and she felt awkward and stunted. It took until the third story—all of which were short and positively unrealistic—that she messaged Rena's account, simply saying that she hoped the experience was just as awkward for her when she read about herself.

It wasn't a surprise that she didn't get a reply. Marinette supposed that she'd receive a lot of them, and couldn't check them all, but the main reason was because she'd been so vague in the message, she supposed. It wasn't as though she could just say she was Ladybug and actually be believed.

Rena's turn for helping with the fight came the following week.

The ground was covered in snow, and metal would've been annoying to touch normally, but their suits protected them from the weather; so much so that they didn't shiver despite the subzero temperature. It was a perk that she hadn't thought about the first few times she'd transformed, at least until the sweltering heat came and she was perfectly fine when in a fight.

It helped that they didn't sweat from being out of breath—in fact, their stamina seemed endless when they were fighting. The only reason they had to stop was because when they used their special powers, the ones that could only be used once the entire fight, they had five minutes to run away before their transformations dropped.

While she gave Rena a victory hug, she whispered in her ear, "You should check reNAH's messages."

The bewildered look she got in return was worth it.

Chat caught the exchange and raised his eyebrows. "What was that about?"

Marinette couldn't stop her grin. "I'm trying to get her to read my horrible fanfiction."

He looked at her strangely. "About?"

"Her kissing Carapace the frog and dying from salmonella poisoning."

A choked laugh escaped him. "He's supposed to be a turtle."

"Creative license," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand as another disappeared from her earrings, meaning one less minute until the transformation dropped. It was lucky that the noise they emitted was loud enough for anyone standing near her to hear. "If she's allowed to give me a leather fetish, I'm well within my rights to kill her off in the worst ways."

With a look at the civilians that were taking pictures of them, Chat murmured, "I hope you know I'm going to look for that now."

Two days later, she had to assume the enthusiastic message she received was from Chat. It definitely wasn't from Rena yet; she was too busy with her shifts at work to sit down for an extended period of time, and Marinette guessed that she was putting it off.

chatnyaa:
so was cara actually a human turned into a frog
or was rena on drugs and just jumped to that conclusion when he croaked along to a song?
because i really need answers here
it's the answer to life and i won't survive without it, bug

The username made her want to ignore him.

The account was new, made a day ago, and it didn't have any description other websites of his linked onto it. The profile picture was blank, too, unlike the generic flower-themed picture that she was using.

gubydal:
she was so desperate for love
that she saw an animal and wanted it to be her soulmate
kinda like how it happened irl, I guess

chatnyaa:
are you trying to tell me she's in love with an animal

gubydal:
well, a turtle

chatnyaa:
what?

gubydal:
oh boy, guess you were just as in the dark as me
to put it lightly
those renapace fics aren't wrong

chatnyaa:
what
what the fuck

gubydal:
guessing you know who she is?

chatnyaa:
i don't even think this is my life any more
it took me years just to talk to you outside of work
and it's on this shitty private messaging
and now you're telling me such secrets

gubydal:
it's not really a secret when they thought we knew
about their identities, I mean

chatnyaa:
paon was bad enough
know you know more of my friends?
am i dreaming, bug?

gubydal:
if this is leading up to a bedbug pun
kindly fuck off

chatnyaa:
you have such a way with words
i'm swooning right now

gubydal:
I regret flirting with you.

chatnyaa:
you can't regret the past six years of your life
that's just impractical

gubydal:
you can't stop me

chatnyaa:
if you're
idk if you're in such a revealing mood
does this mean you'll tell me about the sixth member of our squad?

gubydal:
we are not a squad or a gang
no matter how much you want us to be

chatnyaa:
answer the question instead of ruining my dreams

gubydal:
as much as I want to say it's a bad idea
I'm actually so jealous of the others?

chatnyaa:
wait
if some of them know each other
and we know all of them
do you think they're trying to guess who we are?

gubydal:
good joke
they'll never think they're right until we actually tell them

chatnyaa:
that's true
but i'm a bit
i don't know if i should say shocked or not

gubydal:
from everything that's happened?

chatnyaa:
from the chances of us knowing each other being higher

gubydal:
it is kinda surreal

chatnyaa:
surreal doesn't even cover it
what if i've been staring you in the face without realising it

gubydal:
considering who we know
that's entirely possible and very frustrating

chatnyaa:
please kill rena again so i can feel better

gubydal:
I was gonna make her flirt badly with queen bee

chatnyaa:
do they still hate each other irl?
i'm out of the loop

gubydal:
honestly it's a mystery
we haven't seen queen bee emerge from her apartment yet

chatnyaa:
what do you mean we?

gubydal:
autocorrect

chatnyaa:
why are you lying to me
my heart can't take this

gubydal:
I'm on my phone
honest

chatnyaa:
so you're not marinette?

gubydal:
why the fuck do you know who they live with

chatnyaa:
because
reasons that i can't tell you

gubydal:
who's keeping the secrets now?

chatnyaa:
you?
i'll get on my knees if you want me to

gubydal:
begging isn't going to make me tell you who I am

chatnyaa:
knees can be used for other things
i have it on good authority it's very persuasive

gubydal:
yes, let's skip right to the oral
you just need to get through my suit first

chatnyaa:
i'm sensing disapproval

gubydal:
you're amazing

-x-

Talking to Chat became a normal routine.

After reminding him that she'd claimed to be friends with Marinette, all those years ago, they continued to send messages to each other a lot. It was a lot more work than texting, especially since the site kept signing her out on her phone, but it was still nice to wake up to see his late night rambles as he told her all about what he was doing.

It was all the things she'd imagined doing with him and more. The only downside, however, was that she'd turned off the e-mail notification after she'd been spammed the first time he started messaging her, therefore she had to check online whether he'd replied or not, just to save her phone was buzzing continuously.

chatnyaa:
i can get my friend to finally get rena to read your shit
since it's taking so long for her to notice you

gubydal:
i don't know whether to be offended or not
try and work your magic

chatnyaa:
i never said i'd do it for free

gubydal:
what could I possibly have to offer you?

chatnyaa:
other than going on a date with me?
i want some insider information

gubydal:
I'm not telling you what I'm wearing.

chatnyaa:
i would never ask that
you offend me
now tell me paon's favourite food

gubydal:
what
why would I know that?

chatnyaa:
you're the one that picked him
how do you not know this?

gubydal:
we're not best buddies

chatnyaa:
are you sure

gubydal:
...did you pick your best friends?

chatnyaa:
i don't know what you're talking about

gubydal:
how have you not fucking revealed yourself
I thought it through before picking someone else who was close to me

chatnyaa:
you're a terrible source of information

gubydal:
you're besties with his girlfriend
ask her

chatnyaa:
she's untrustworthy
i'm just thinking of joining your rivalry
and contributing a beautiful love story
where queenie gets cursed to be his favourite food

gubydal:
are you still bitter carapace wasn't really a frog or what?

chatnyaa:
you can't call me out like this
besides
she'll be walking and talking
it would be a great kid's show

gubydal:
until you make something non-pg happen

chatnyaa:
queenie's whole existence is non-pg

With their constant string of messages, it meant that he got a better idea of her schedule. Although she didn't tell him where she worked, he started to know her hours, when she had classes, and she learned that in turn about him, too. It was a little bit weird at first; for years she'd had to wonder what he was doing in his normal life, and it had suddenly evolved into her knowing vague things about all of it.

But it was so much easier to tell him the silly things that happened; when she saw a cute dog, something amusing in a shop window, and the highlights of her days before she forgot them. And he did much the same, bemoaning about the way he spilled a drink down his favourite shirt, or a new song that he was particularly fond it.

The most annoying part was that they couldn't post links or pictures with the way they were communicating.

True to his word of asking his friend to contact Rena, Marinette received a message some days alter. Initially, she was disappointed it wasn't from Chat before she really looked at the username.

reNAH:
what the fuck is going on
why is your name backwards?

gubydal:
I never claimed to be a creative person.

reNAH:
I'm repeating my first question
what the fuck?
why am I dying from kissing a frog
why did I steal my neighbours chickens?

gubydal:
those are all great questions
but I'll raise you this:
why do I have a leather fetish?

reNAH:
you're still mad about that?

gubydal:
I'm not mad
I'm disappointed.

reNAH:
you can't just go full mom on me
what the hell is happening here

gubydal:
revenge

-x-

The day she ran into Chloé Bourgeois, it was one where she had her hands full with holding the grocery bags that she'd volunteered to get.

Marinette paused by the stairs, brushing her hair away from her forehead as she took in a deep breath before starting her way up. It hadn't seemed like much adding a few extra drinks onto their list, especially since she wasn't as weak as she used to be, but her had started to ache after walking for a while.

With every floor, there was a little platform to turn and use a different staircase to go higher, and it was as she turned the corner partway up that someone harshly bumped into her shoulder. Marinette lost her balance at first, flailing a bit before she grabbed onto the railing, and she realised in despair that she'd dropped one of her bags.

One of the drinks had fallen, along with other items, but it was the only one that had burst. Causing liquid to start to seep out. Instead of being aimed at her, however, it was spraying over the person that had caused the mess.

They'd had the decency to stop after making her stumble, at least.

"What the fuck?" was the first words she heard from Chloé in years.

With her hair braided into long plaits, not the usual ponytail that she was given when transformed, and the material of her trousers growing increasingly darker as the liquid spread, Chloé's expression could only be described as murderous.

"You—" Chloé started, pausing only when a flicker of recognition appeared before she went back to scowling. "Of course it's you."

She blinked. "Nice to see you, too."

"You're a pest," Chloé replied without any hesitation, grimacing as she moved her legs, kicking the drink as far away as she could. "Why did you have to turn up now?"

If she'd been back in school, she probably would've taken those words to heart. But, as Marinette had grown to actually know her—which was a weird thought in itself, especially since she had trouble connecting the two identities at all—it was easy to tell when she was actually upset.

It was one of those moments, but she wasn't panicking about all the things that could've gone wrong for her; she doubted Chloé would run to her father to try and reprimand her when she was just about out of her teenage years.

"I live here," Marinette said, kneeling down, careful not to get any liquid on her, and picking up the items that had fallen out of her bag. "If you're free, you and Nathaniel can come over to ours for dinner tomorrow."

She didn't have to look up to see how surprised Chloé was. "What?"

"Apartment below yours," she stated as she get a grip on both the handles again. "If you don't turn up, we'll just have a lot of leftovers—not a big deal."

She was already walking away before she received answer.

The laughter escaped her when she'd shut the door to her floor behind her, not quite believing how casual she'd been about it all. She'd thought that seeing Chloé again would've made her irritated, back when Adrien had mentioned her, but it was almost nice.

Well, probably not from Chloé's point of view, which made it even better.

Telling Alya and Nino that they were going to have guests the following day led to blank stares being directed at her. Marinette just grinned, wondering how well any of them were going to get on, before Nino said he wasn't going to face that situation with a buffer.

And that was how the invitation was extended to Adrien.

Nino had had the pleasure of seeing Chloé sometimes over the years due to her being Adrien's friend, but they weren't what he'd classify as friends. So, they'd dubbed it his duty to answer the door if they actually came.

The following day, Marinette was just getting her keys out of her bag as as Adrien arrived on her floor.

"Marinette!" he called, walking quickly to stand beside her with a bright smile.

It was a stark contrast to how she felt after work. "You're early," she said as a greeting, before realising that it was a bit too blunt. "I mean, yes, hi."

"I didn't really have anything else to do," he admitted, dimples showing as he smiled. "Oh, I probably shouldn't have said that. It makes me sound lame, doesn't it?"

She snorted, unlocking the door. "I've known you're lame for years."

"You've barely seen me!" Adrien exclaimed, trying to defend himself as she gestured towards the open doorway for him to go inside first. "I don't know whether to be offended or not."

"There was a time where I thought you were cool, but that was clearly a mistake," she mused, stretching her arms out when she'd put her bag down on the countertop. "I pity the me from back then."

Sitting down on one of the stools by the counters—a good compromise since they hadn't bought a dining table—Adrien was looking at her curiously as he asked, "And how long ago with this?"

"When we were back in classes together," Marinette answered with a half-hearted shrug, not feeling quite as embarrassed as she should've been about casually admitting such a thing. "I'm pretty sure you thought I dislike you for a bit since I used to clam up around you."

"You don't any more," he pointed out, corner of his lips curling up. "It's... nice."

She raised her brow. "My company is nice?"

"More than nice," he amended insincerely. "I feel a bit weird saying this, but we weren't really friends back then. Acquaintances is more like it."

From the amount of times they'd spoken, just the two of them, that statement was backed up easily. She'd been tongue-tied and often messed up her pronunciation when trying to talk to him in school, and her clammy hands and been almost permanent whenever he directed a smile her way. It was—it was just really juvenile, when she looked back on it.

It wasn't as though Adrien had ever given her special attention; he'd shown more interest in Chloé—his friend—back then, rather than her, and yet she'd been so sure that she was in love with him.

"I was super awkward," Marinette confessed, getting a cold drink out of the fridge. Seeing him in her apartment, a private setting rather than the gathering of friends that he'd been at before, felt different than their usual small talk that they indulged in for a few minutes. "You don't need to spare me the embarrassment. I've accepted that was a really weird time for me."

Propping an elbow on the countertop and resting his face on his hand, it wasn't hard to identity the confusion that flickered across his expression; from the way his smile fell, and the furrow of his brows that made the skin between them crinkle a little. "What?"

"I had this huge crush on you," she said, placing the bottle down so she could indicate childishly with her hand how big she presumed it to be. "Pretty sure I was too busy trying to impress you to actually be your friend."

His lips parted silently for a bit before he let out an audible breath. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Marinette confirmed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Didn't you ever notice Alya and Nino trying to set us up in most situations? I think some of our class-mates were aware of it, too. I wasn't exactly subtle."

Blinking, Adrien admitted, "I had no idea."

Dubiously, she said, "Don't try and spare my feelings."

"No, I'm being honest," he insisted, green-coloured eyes widening, trying to convey his sincerity. "I just—I thought they wanted us to get along, you know? Since they're our best friends and we didn't really... well, get on."

She snorted. "Because I wanted to get on you."

A choking noise escaped him.

When she saw his reaction, she couldn't stop herself from bursting into abrupt laughter, even more so when redness began to seep onto his face, the splotchy colour standing out against his skin. Adrien cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he tried to recover, but after a little while where he tried not to join in with her laughter, a smile broke out on his face.

"It was a joke!" Marinette defended herself once she'd calmed down from her amusement, though she was aware that her face felt hot. "I was way too young to be thinking about that. I just wanted to hold your hand."

The colour wasn't leaving his cheeks. "Am I really that oblivious?"

"To be fair, even if you did notice, I don't think anything would've come out of it," she replied, not feeling as shy as she thought she'd be by saying that. "It's not like I really knew you, right? I mean, I liked that your were nice enough to apologise to me, and it all just kinda built up from there."

For a moment, he looked like he was hesitating before he answered, "Well, you still don't really know me."

"No," she confirmed, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I don't even know why you're here so early—Alya and Nino aren't due back for... about half an hour, I think."

"Alya said you might be here to let me in," Adrien admitted. "I wanted to talk to you anyway, so it was luck that you'd just gotten home. I was honestly debating whether to sit outside your door or go bother Chloé for a bit."

She hummed. "Any idea if she's actually coming tonight?"

"She is," he stated. "It took me calling her to get her to agree; she's almost convinced that you're just going to poison her."

A loud laugh escaped her. "I've thought of much more discreet ways to kill her over the years, trust me."

Looking at her with raised eyebrows, Adrien asked, "And how many of those have you thought up since you found out she's the owner of those so-called hooves?"

"I've mostly been wondering whether to name my future glue brand sticky hooves or not."

The conversation came easy, a lot more naturally than she thought it would be. When Nino came back first, the two of them were on the sofa, ignoring the television that was on quietly, animatedly facing each other as they talked. It wasn't until Nino spoke up that they realised that he was there at all.

That part of the evening was good, at least.

Firstly, the takeaway they ordered came with the wrong dishes. Adrien had to awkwardly point out that Chloé was allergic to one of them, and it happened to be the one that none of them particularly liked. The others were somewhat okay, but they decided to leave the lids on and give Chloé and Nathaniel a few more minutes to arrive.

From the odd looks that Alya was sending her, she assumed that her excitement wasn't hidden at all. She knew that it must've looked weird for anyone that couldn't see her thoughts, but it was just—they were her friends, so she had to see whether that would translate when they were in casual clothing instead of skintight suits.

It didn't.

Nathaniel was quiet, picking at his food for most of the meal, while Chloé glowered across the sofa—her mood hadn't perked up since she found out that half of them would be sat on stools due to their lack of dining table—at anyone who spoke, even being snappy with Adrien. Alya clashed with her, of course, and it resulted in some bickering that made Marinette have to cover her mouth with her hands because it had sounded just so familiar that she couldn't hold it back.

Neither of them had finished their dinner before Chloé had stood up and announced they were leaving, shooting them a disapproving look before walking audibly towards the door.

It served as a reminder.

"Thanks for coming anyway," Marinette said when it was just Nathaniel, who was doing his best to apologise and make his way towards the exit. "Honestly, it was a peace offering to try and ask you two to be more quiet."

His eyes grew large. "What?"

"Not that kind of noise," she amended with a laugh. "We're underneath, so we hear Chloé stomping around a lot. It's really frustrating to wake up to two days in a row after moving in."

He reached up and scratched his cheek, a movement that she hadn't seen without the purple-coloured glove for what seemed like years. "I—okay," Nathaniel replied. "It might be because we always wear shoes inside."

There was no shame as she requested, "Please change your lifestyle to better suit me."

The smile she received was nice to see.

-x-

While that night didn't end in a blossoming friendship with either Nathaniel or Chloé, it did result in Adrien sending her a message the following day.

A bit bemused, Marinette replied to him—a few hours late—and he answered within minutes. There was clear enthusiasm in his texts and the excessive amount of emojis, and it was astoundingly clear that he was trying to reach out and befriend her.

Neither of them had really attempted it before.

It wasn't that she was against it. After some consideration, she concluded that having Nathaniel and Chloé be her friend wasn't a wise choice, not when the five of them lived in the same building. But Adrien wasn't involved in any of that; he was a civilian that had a somewhat celebrity status due to his modelling. The only times he'd been involved with akumas had had to do with his work, or someone knowing him due to that, not because he'd wronged a class-mate and caused them to feel negatively enough that they'd gotten infected.

So, being his friend was fine, especially since he actually wanted to talk to her.

It became clear in a couple of days that he was a morning person, which really should've been proven the first time he was in her apartment, and that extended to him sending a text when he'd just woken up in the morning.

While it really did seem that the noise had quieted down from the apartment above—the dinner was good for something—the new cause of her bleary-eyed stare as she tried to figure out what had woken up was Adrien telling her about his plans or a dream that he'd had.

As endearing as it was, she not-so-politely told him to fuck off the first time so she could go back to sleep.

Somehow, he didn't get offended. Adrien just re-sent the message a few hours later with added emojis on the end, awaiting her response.

It was nice to get to know him.

With talking to Adrien constantly, and logging onto the website to check her messages from Chat and Rena, it was a bit hard to keep up with it all. Sometimes, she found herself forgetting to send a reply, but she didn't awkwardly apologise for the delay. The two of them didn't expect her to answer instantly (the last time she'd taken over a day to get back to Chat, he just asked how her day had been), but it was a tad annoying to try and juggle it with university, her job, and her friends that sent her a knowing look whenever her phone vibrated.

She learned to put it on silent after she first started talking to Adrien.

"We're just friends," Marinette corrected when Alya asked her what was going on between them. "You're the one that said I'd be home that day, so we're just making nice a few years too late."

Alya raised her eyebrows so they were visible above the frames of her spectacles. "So you're not going to go crazy over him any more?"

"No." She snorted. "That's some real faith you have for me there."

"I can't help it," Alya replied, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Your crush on him was insane. We used to all make bets on whether you'd confess to him or not."

That last bit was news to her. "What was the longest one?"

"If you don't mean the vote for you never confessing, then I think before we graduated was the next closest of them."

She grinned. "So, not when I'm nineteen, then."

Alya squinted. "Are you planning to woo him before your birthday?"

"No, no." She waved a hand dismissively. "I told Adrien all about my awkward crush when he was over before. I think that's why he's actually talking to me now—because I'm not mooning over him, I mean."

With a shrug, Alya proclaimed, "As long as you don't invite Chloé over again, you're free to do anything you want."

That sent Marinette in a fit of laughter that only grew worse when she saw the bewildered look that her friend sent her. It was just—it was so amusing when she was the one with the information. She knew that as Queen Bee and Rena, they almost considered themselves best friends—especially since they communicated outside of their rare weekends—but the utter loathing otherwise had grown comical.

"But you'd be such great friends," she choked out, voice a tad higher than normal due to her laughter.

Alya just crossed her arms. "Yeah, no."

She started laughing again.

-x-

With Rena talking to her more consistently—in which the two of them complained about the fanfiction that they wrote about each other, though it was in good humour—it meant that Marinette had to be a little bit careful and not type the same way that she would in a text. Sometimes, she paused and changed the wording of the sentence, just to make sure it was okay.

When that extended to Rena giving her Queen Bee's profile, she could be a bit more careless as she started to talk to her.

fabulousQBee:
renas making you do a kissing booth
and chats going to sneeze on you
just a heads up

gubydal:
is she living to torture me now?

fabulousQBee:
idk
i just wanna see who wins this war

gubydal:
it's hardly a war

fabulousQBee:
youre both either killing each other
or making the worst things happen

gubydal:
you can't call you two falling the love the worst

fabulousQBee:
she wouldnt be able to appreciate me enough
i need at least five compliments to make it through the day

gubydal:
that's your reason for not wanting to date her?

fabulousQBee:
i mean other than barely seeing her
im pretty sure she's with cara
even if they live to deny it

gubydal:
you've actually asked them?

fabulousQBee:
unlike you
ive been talking to her for like two years
so i might as well be an expert on her life

gubydal:
am I supposed to apologise for wanting to keep a secret?

fabulousQBee:
apologise for ignoring me
now i can tell you all about my day

gubydal:
vaguely tell me about it

fabulousQBee:
im pretty sure i could tell you the names and it wouldnt matter
stop being such a worrier
so what if papillon gets me to talk
what am i going to say?
oh sorry all i know about ladybug is that she only capitalises her is for some fucking reason
damn youll really be dead for that

gubydal:
don't sass me
i'm not the one that revealed myself to my boyfriend

fabulousQBee:
is this you admitting you have a boyfriend?
who is it
do i know them
dont ignore me ladybug im fragile

Although it was a lot easier, it was clear that Queen Bee just wanted to enjoy the ridiculous stories that Marinette and Rena put out. She was always one of the first to read them and leave a comment, and while Queen Bee told her about Rena's future plans—which wasn't ever really sneaky, since Rena would've just admitted them if she asked—she was pretty sure that Queen Bee was relaying the same information back.

It was fun, at least. When she wasn't busy with work, talking to her friends online was a new activity that she hadn't really dabbled in before. It was usually just via her cell phone that she'd spoken before, or arranged to meet up, but since the three of them had their identities to keep—even though Marinette knew who they both were, and was determined for them not to find out—it meant that they stuck to the annoying private messaging where they couldn't invite any more people into it.

Chat enjoyed it, too. And from the way he enjoyed referencing them when they were together at the weekends, it was clear that the stupidity of it all was giving them something to talk about.

Unfortunately, Queen Bee got it into her mind that Marinette had a boyfriend because of their previous conversation.

"You can tell me," she insisted, their knees touching as they sat on the ledge together. "I'm an excellent listener."

Marinette just stared at her blankly. "No, you're not."

"Fine." Queen Bee sniffed. "I'm not, but I'm very interested in your life—and you know all about my love life."

"Because you two were careless!"

Queen Bee shrugged, not offended. "Haven't you ever wanted to have a midnight kiss on dirty rooftop? Don't judge me for giving into carnal desires."

"It was barely past seven," she pointed out, crossing her arms. "Besides, you don't see Rena and Carapace making out when we're not looking, do you?"

Turning to look at her quickly, so fast that it caused her blonde-coloured hair to move, Queen Bee's mouth stretched into a large grin. "Is that a confirmation?"

She pursed her lips. "I said nothing."

"Oh, you absolutely did," Queen Bee said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now Chat's the lonely bastard of the group."

"I'm really not dating anyone," she reiterated for the countless time. "And even if I was, I wouldn't tell you anything about them."

Queen Bee leaned over onto her, resting her face on Marinette's shoulder in a way that was only common between friends. "Come on, Ladybug. What's the chance of me knowing them at all? A bit of gossip isn't harmful."

Gently, she shoved her away. "I'll leave the rule breaking to you and your boyfriend, thank you."

Queen Bee sniffed. "It's not like you gave us a handbook or anything."

"Maybe I did—"

Before she could even finish that sentence, she was interrupted with, "Paon's already confirmed you didn't!"

She blinked. "I don't know whether to be surprised at that or not."

"I wanted to know whether our inductions were different," Queen Bee muttered, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Chat was a bit dramatic, but you weren't apparently. Unless Paon's playing it down and trying not to admit that he screamed when you went into his bedroom."

Marinette tried not to laugh as she admitted, "He might've shrieked."

"Yes."

Because Queen Bee was so insistent on finding out, Chat heard about it.

chatnyaa:
so a little birdy told me
you're dating?

gubydal:
how do you kill bees?
no, I really am not
how would I have the time to when you message me every hour?

chatnyaa:
well that's a bit rude
it's not every hour, bug
i let you sleep sometimes

gubydal:
wow, what a gentleman

chatnyaa:
i'm sensing some animosity

gubydal:
the most action I get is with my fingers
typing to your annoying ass

chatnyaa:
you love my ass
there's fansites dedicated to it
you can't say you're not a fan

gubydal:
I might be the fanclub leader
I send out little pins with your ass on them to members

chatnyaa:
i'm feeling very loved

gubydal:
good because I'm not
please tell queenie that

chatnyaa:
you're a bit feisty today

gubydal:
how would you feel if all your friends kept asking you
about a boyfriend that doesn't exist?

chatnyaa:
i'd just tell them i'm waiting for a certain someone

gubydal:
yes, let me just tell them I'm waiting to date you
what a wonderful answer
they're sure to leave me alone after that

chatnyaa:
or just ignore them

gubydal:
queen bee and rena have both asked me about it in the past few hours
it's terrifying when they're in cahoots

chatnyaa:
at least you don't have to worry about that normally

gubydal:
what do you mean by that?

chatnyaa:
they're not friends irl
it's quite hilarious actually

gubydal:
really?
they get along really well whenever they're together

chatnyaa:
oh, definitely
they've hated each other for years
which is even more hilarious know i know who they are

gubydal:
I didn't know you're that close to them to know

chatnyaa:
bit hard not to be in a small class

gubydal:
are you sure you should be telling me this?

chatnyaa:
it's been years, it's fine
good luck going through school records and trying to guess who i am
we both know it wouldn't work

gubydal:
what if I checked for someone who was late a lot during our first few years?

chatnyaa:
nice try
maybe my class with them was last year
you'll never know

gubydal:
you're forgetting that I also know them
they haven't seen each other for years
so nice try to you

chatnyaa:
fuck
you could be a detective

gubydal:
I don't need to take classes to know you're an idiot

chatnyaa:
that hurts me, bug
right in my heart

gubydal:
you hurt my heart everyday

chatnyaa:
that's called flirting

gubydal:
you're terrible at it

-x-

It was an accident when she bumped into Adrien.

They'd been texting a lot, yes, and she certainly knew about him compared to years ago, which meant that she knew that he'd said that he'd be busy with work for a few hours. So, to see him in front of her in a queue in a coffee-shop was a bit surprising.

Marinette didn't stop herself from reaching forward and tapping his shoulder to try and get his attention.

The neutral expression on his face quickly shifted into a bright smile when he turned to look at her. "Marinette," he greeted, the surprise clear in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"My class got cancelled," she explained with a shrug, adjusting the strap of her bag that was hanging on her shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to be busy right now? This doesn't really look like work."

"I got the time wrong," he answered with a laugh. "Got about an hour of waiting around, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to come in here."

They shuffled along in the queue without anyone prompting them to. Although they could be classed as friends, they hadn't made any plans to meet up, other than saying which things would be fun to do together. Marinette hadn't pushed for anything, not when she preferred to keep a night at the weekend off to spend with her friends while transformed, rather than meet up and have a drink.

Idly, she wondered how it would be if they drank one night together.

Adrien was the one to ask, "Want to sit together?"

"Sure." Her smile met her eyes. "I'd like that."

And it was nice.

When Adrien really laughed, it came out breathy, a bit squeaky at times, and he tried to cover his mouth with his hands as his eyes crinkled at the corners. It was an expression that hadn't really been directed her way, but when it was, she found herself returning the laughter, finding his bright personality infectious.

It was as easy as texting.

Her hands weren't clammy from nerves, and her heart was beating uncomfortably from worrying about all the things that could go wrong; rather, her cheeks just hurt a little from laughing too much, and she found that her drink had grown cold before she could finish it because she was too absorbed in talking with him.

At one point, he'd been talking animatedly and moving his hands, and ended up knocking over his drink. The look of horror that appeared as he scrambled away and collected napkins before it could get on him was a tad amusing.

"Don't laugh," he said, almost whining as he dabbed the liquid on the table. "I turned up with a stain on my sleeve once and the reporter actually put that detail in the interview."

She grinned. "Maybe they were trying to make you sound relatable."

"My father said they made me out to be a goblin."

She tried not to laugh, really, but it was such a fitting statement for his strict father. "A really popular goblin," Marinette offered, lips twitching from attempting to hide her smile. "One I'm sure just about anyone would offer to wash your clothes for."

"That's very reassuring," Adrien muttered, jutting his lower lip out dramatically. "That's just what I'm looking for in a person; clothes washing skills."

"Think of all the mischief you could get up to," she mused, "and they'll be able to clean it all."

Adrien blinked.

It took her a moment to burst into laughter. "I meant the muddy kind!" she defended herself through her laughter, but it just came out distorted. "I—oh, boy, I've dug myself a hole."

His smile grew quickly, reaching up to his eyes as he asked, "You mean you don't want to hear about all my nefarious deeds I get into when I'm dressed?"

"I'm sure I could read about them in a gossip article."

"But then you won't know the intimate details," he replied, resting an elbow on the table as he put his head in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to know?"

She raised her eyebrows. "About your goblin activities? Not any more, thank you."

"That hurts me, Marinette," Adrien said with a laugh, sitting up straight as he put a hand over his chest. "Right in my heart."

As much as she prided herself on being observant, it wasn't until they'd parted ways a little way later that she paused in the street, wondering why that line seemed so familiar to her. It wasn't something her friends said often, but that wasn't the reason why it had struck something in her in the first place.

It was some hours later that realised why. Chat sent her a message, and out of instinct, she read the previous ones to see whether they had any relevance.

"Oh," she murmured, a bit stumped.

It didn't really mean anything. It was phrase, something that countless people could say, but—

But Adrien knew everyone that they'd given a miraculous to. He was close to Chloé and Nino particularly, his chosen ones, and he fit in with the class that Chat had alluded to before.

She couldn't say whether much about his appearance, not when Alya's hair changed colour with the transformation, and Chat's sclera turned green with his. There was no use fretting and trying to hold pictures up and trying to see whether they matched—even if their noses had the same curve, it didn't prove anything, not with the magic in effect.

gubydal:
quick question
feel free to ignore me
but are you as dramatic normally as you are as chat

chatnyaa:
now that's a silly question
chat is me

gubydal:
so that's a yes

chatnyaa:
are you any different normally?

gubydal:
well I don't wear skintight clothes
and I show my pretty eyelids to everyone
but that's about that

chatnyaa:
someday, you'll show me your pretty eyelids

gubydal:
it sounds like we're making a pact
chat, are you ready?

chatnyaa:
ready?

gubydal:
ready to promise to marry me if you're single at 30

chatnyaa:
i'd marry you whenever

gubydal:
romance isn't dead

chatnyaa:
romance will very much be alive when papillon's gone

gubydal:
so no sneaking around for us?

chatnyaa:
nice joke, bug

you're too responsible

gubydal:
I can't tell if that's a compliment or not

chatnyaa:
your existence is a compliment

gubydal:
I
I don't know what that means

chatnyaa:
it's called flirting
like almost all of my words to you

gubydal:
sometimes I wonder why I like you

chatnyaa:
i repeat
i have a great ass

gubydal:
and you are a great ass

chatnyaa:
story of my life

Chat didn't really give her any confirmation, but it wasn't like she was going out of her way to ask him. He'd never seriously asked her for her identity—other than the Marinette comment, but she assumed that was a joke—and she didn't want to do that in return, not when they had mutual trust in each other.

So, she pushed aside her suspicions. It wasn't anything concrete, just a little niggling thought, just like the fact that both of them preferred not to use capitals when they were sending her messages. Surely, Chat did it from a keyboard, and Adrien had just turned that option off on his phone—

"No," she muttered, shaking her head.

A little while later, her cell phone vibrated, and she was surprised to find that the name on the screen was Adrien's.

"Hey," she said as a greeting, a bit quiet. "This isn't a butt-dial, is it?"

His laughter came through the phone. "Do you have that little faith in me?"

"I don't know," Marinette replied, stretching out on her bed as she got comfortable again. "You've never really called me before, so I was expecting the worst."

"And my ass is the worst thing to you?" he questioned, dramatically aghast. "Is hurting me a hobby of yours?"

Amused, she replied, "I might just be really bad at expressing my feelings."

"Well, I know all about that," Adrien announced, drawing out the last word. As if he was waiting for a reaction, he paused, and she pursed her lips to try not to let out a laugh. "Oh, are you not even going to tell me off for mentioning that? Honestly, I thought it was off-limits."

She snorted. "I've been teased enough over the years to be desensitised by now."

Adrien laughed, a soft sound that was barely picked up. "So, it's cool to mention your enormous crush on me?"

She couldn't resist pointing out. "It was a mistake—a terrible mistake, really."

There was a moment of silence, where she wondered whether he was distracted, before he spoke up to ask, "Does that mean there's no chance of it being present tense, then?"

That wasn't something that she'd expected to hear from him.

"I—what?" Marinette stuttered, knowing that her confusion was clear in her voice.

"I mean..." Adrien trailed off, clearing his throat. "Do you think it could, maybe, be possible?"

The nervous lilt as he spoke wasn't familiar to her. When they were texting, he seemed sure of himself and confident, especially when they were talking about random subjects that didn't have any depth to them, and she'd started to associate that with him. So, to hear the quiet way that he'd spoken, the way he'd broken off while trying to rearrange his words made her feel conflicted on how to feel.

She wetted her lips.

"Do you want it to be?"

Adrien was quiet when he spoke up to say, "I—yeah."

That was—it was strange, to say the least. Marinette wasn't aware of whether they'd been flirting or not; impressing Adrien hadn't been on her mind, and she hadn't thought that he was starting to feel that way towards her or not. The most surprising part to her was that she didn't know how to feel about that.

Her lips parted, but no sound escaped as she debated her answer.

She came to the conclusion that there was no point lying to him. She'd had relationships before where she'd had to make an excuse whenever there was the city-wide warning of an attack, saying that she was hiding out somewhere for her safety, and the lame excuses at the weekend where she claimed she wanted to have time to herself, rather than making up a second job.

But Adrien had been the person of her teenage affections, the one that she'd been overjoyed whenever he just sent a smile her way.

She found herself asking, "Why?"

"I just—" Adrien cut himself off, taking in an audible breath.

It was the most awkward he sounded with his speech, and the fact that it was because of her had her sitting up and pushing her hair off of her face.

"I know that we don't really know each other," he started, and she couldn't find any reason to deny that, not when they'd only been talking for a few weeks frequently. "But I... I quite like the you that I know so far."

She swallowed.

There was rustling on the other end, and she had to wonder whether to he was fidgeting or not. "It doesn't have to be a date, if you don't want it to be," he rambled on, skipping over some pronunciation as he rushed to get the words out. "I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or anything—not unless you want to, I just—"

Years ago, it would've made her smile into her pillow as she hid her heated cheeks, but the only effect it had was her stomach clenching uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," Marinette said quietly. "I'm... I'm, well, waiting for someone."

There was a beat of silence. "You're waiting to date someone?"

"Yeah," she admitted, fiddling with her earring. "I-I'd still like to be your friend, if that's okay. I didn't realise I was leading you on."

For a moment, she wondered whether she'd said the wrong thing. Then again, she'd never actually been friends with someone that she'd rejected before, so she didn't have much experience in that department.

"Oh, no," Adrien said, stirring her from her thoughts as he repeated the last word a couple of times. "You didn't do anything of the sort, I was—I was being too hopeful, I guess."

Whether she was supposed to feel guilty or not, she wasn't sure. "Are you sure?"

"You're fine, Marinette," he answered, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I'd much prefer it if you didn't change anything about yourself."

Her lips curled into a grin. "Well, that's good, then."

"No need to be different around me when I'm just a goblin."

She snorted. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Not when I know it amuses you," Adrien replied with a laugh.

-x-

With her ongoing writing feud with Rena—where she killed her off by syphilis and Rena retaliated by having her pose embarrassingly on a fur rug by a fireplace as Chat sobbed over her beauty—and Queen Bee starting to recommend not-so-serious stories from other authors, it was only natural that CaraPiss came up in conversation.

fabulousQBee:
look i know youre weirded out about reading about yourself
but i promise this is sweet and the smut isnt even detailed
its just tagged as that for a warning
you wont read about your own vagina
i promise

gubydal:
stop trying to make me read about what I can't have
unlike some irresponsible people
I'm waiting

fabulousQBee:
fucking hell
you sound like youre waiting until marriage for sex

gubydal:
I'm waiting until papillon's dead

fabulousQBee:
so you admit you want to have sex with chat

gubydal:
I'd rather hold his hand at first, thanks

fabulousQBee:
what the fuck

gubydal:
what?

fabulousQBee:
does he know this?

gubydal:
that I want to hold his hand?
of course he does

fabulousQBee:
what the fuck?
i thought you both just oblivious
but youre actually not are you

gubydal:
listen
just because you're able to smooch a superhero doesn't mean that i can

fabulousQBee:
please never type smooch again

gubydal:
don't you like smooches?

fabulousQBee:
stop being gross
tell me about your celibacy some more

gubydal:
I think you might have the wrong idea here

fabulousQBee:
am i fucking wrong

gubydal:
you have far too much investment in my love life

fabulousQBee:
what love life?

gubydal:
fucking exactly, queenie

fabulousQBee:
call me that and ill call you gubs
fucking try me

gubydal:
it was a typo

fabulousQBee:
i hate you

gubydal:
no, you don't
I'm your idol

fabulousQBee:
i hope we never get papillon

gubydal:
great superhero attitude, q

fabulousQBee:
stop trying to give me a nickname!

The story that she'd been directed to was from the previous year. Marinette read the summary before grimacing, not comfortable enough to read about herself that way. It was a little bit weirder because she knew that the author was Chat's friend, though from clicking on the profile, she was surprised to find out that they hadn't updated in over six months.

gubydal:
queen bee keeps trying to get me to read your friend's stories

chatnyaa:
my friend?

gubydal:
yeah
carapiss?
you know
your friend that's friends with rena

chatnyaa:
sorry i have more than one friend so it didn't make sense at first
i thought you said you'd read some?

gubydal:
I skimmed through a few when I thought it was rena's
I'm sure I told you that before

chatnyaa:
i'm sorry for forgetting something you said
i'm losing my touch

gubydal:
cute
is your friend okay?

chatnyaa:
what

gubydal:
is that okay to ask?
they haven't updated for like half a year
and before that they were extremely active
so I'm just wondering if they're okay

chatnyaa:
oh
no he's fine
he's just busy with having an actual life now
which is kinda weird

gubydal:
good to hear he's okay then

chatnyaa:
i'll be sure to tell him ladybug was worried

gubydal:
do that and I'll slaughter you

chatnyaa:
you really know how to woo me

-x-

When Marinette passed Chloé in the hallway, or outside when they were letting themselves into the building, the glare that she received from Chloé made her laugh a lot. And from her reaction, it just made Chloé even more irritated at the sight of her, seemingly because Marinette wasn't retaliating as she would've done when they were younger.

Of course, when Alya managed to walk past Chloé, she made a point to mention it to her and Nino later that day when they ate together, going on a little rant about the smug smile that had appeared on Chloé's lips and how she hated the sight of it.

They got used to Marinette's laughter whenever Chloé was brought up.

Also, it seemed that Adrien hadn't mentioned his little confession to his friends. Nino never mentioned, and Alya certainly didn't know, so the next time he came over to their apartment just to watch television together, there weren't any jokes or questions about the two of them (not any more than back when Ayla had asked her what was going on).

It wasn't that awkward, though. Adrien's smile had been hesitant at first, but Marinette was determined not to let it effect them; after all, admitting her long ago crush hadn't caused him to shy away from her before. So, she sat beside him on purpose while they were eating, and tried to talk as normally as possible.

His shoulders relaxed within the first half an hour.

Later, when he'd left and returned home, she was a little surprised when she got a text asking whether she was awake. When she said yes, Adrien had called her, and they'd ended up talking for a while before either of them slept.

There wasn't much difference to before he'd awkwardly confessed; well, other than the occasional calls, all of which he initiated. Marinette much preferred to text so she could try and alternate between all of her messages, which were still a little bit overwhelming when she was already preoccupied.

It was a nice friendship. Rather than just being an internet friend, Adrien was available to visit places with her, or come over to her apartment, regardless of whether Alya or Nino were there. When neither of them weren't busy in the afternoon the following week, which was quite rare, they went to a nearby café where Adrien outright admitted to cheating on his diet when he spied the cakes that were on display.

"I won't tell," she promised seriously, showing her hands to prove that she wasn't crossing her fingers.

His smile was wide.

When Rena posted a story where Chat was cursed to be a beast unless someone fell in love with him—who, of course, turned out to be her—Marinette retaliated by having Rena and Queen Bee meet on a disastrous blind date that ended with Rena vomiting in the bathroom.

The day after she'd uploaded it, she was out with Adrien when she decided to check her messages. He'd excused himself to the bathroom, leaving his belongings on the table for her to look after, and she'd taken that time to get her cell phone out.

As always, since Rena had found out about her account, there was a long comment from her that was mostly all in capitals. There was a few regulars that she noticed, some comments that were just asking her what the hell was going on in her mind, much like her other silly stories, and one of the most recent was a name that caused her to pause.

CaraPiss had left a praising comment, no capital letters in sight within the whole thing.

A bit bemused, she replied, thanking them for reading it at all.

She wasn't going to think anything else of it, hadn't thought to even mention it to Chat at all, none when barely anything had happened at all, but that was in the split second before Adrien's phone vibrated on the table, signalling a new message.

It was close to her, because he'd slid it over to her side to keep it safe while he was gone, meaning she was able to make out the text that appeared perfectly.

Seeing her ridiculous username on Adrien's phone wasn't something she expected to read.

She stared until the screen went dark, not quite comprehending it. Adrien, her kind-hearted friend that seemed to be open about everything he was feeling, even when he was bluntly confessing, was probably the last person she expected to be writing explicit stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir.

And she'd read some of them.

Running a hand through her hair, feeling a bit flustered that Adrien had imagined her in such scenarios without knowing it was actually her. He was—

"Hey," he greeted as he sat down across from her, reaching out to fetch his phone and put it back into his pocket. "What were we talking about again?"

Definitely not her privates, but that was all that was on her mind, really. "I don't know," Marinette replied lamely, aware that her face felt a little hot.

Adrien hummed. "Got any plans for the weekend?"

Somehow, she made it through the afternoon without embarrassing herself. She fidgeted in her seat a bit, fiddled with her earrings when they were talking, but she didn't outright blurt that she'd read his stories—that seemed rude and a bit insensitive, especially since he didn't give any other way to contact him other than the messages on the site.

It was still just a shock, that was all.

Just because she'd been able to hold in her surprise didn't mean she kept it all to herself later, however.

gubydal:
so I have some shocking news

chatnyaa:
give it to me gently
i'm not good with surprises

gubydal:
okay so
I met up with a friend today

chatnyaa:
you're right
that is shocking

gubydal:
shut up
I saw his phone when he went to the toilet
and I realised that you also know him

chatnyaa:
how does a phone give that away
unless they had a background of me?
but that's a bit too weird

gubydal:
fuck it
I was going to cryptic but I forgot you're an idiot
so carapiss left a comment on one of my stories
and I replied to it

chatnyaa:
wait what
what?

gubydal:
I know, right?

chatnyaa:
no that's not what i mean
you saw his phone?
what?

gubydal:
in my defence I didn't know it would be him
at all
so it was super awkward when he came back

chatnyaa:
?

gubydal:
chat?

chatnyaa:
?

gubydal:
are you okay?

chatnyaa:
no

gubydal:
what's going on in that weird head of yours?

chatnyaa:
no, you don't get it
carapiss couldn't have left a comment for you

gubydal:
now that's just rude

chatnyaa:
hear me out
carapiss isn't my friend

gubydal:
yes he is?

chatnyaa:
no
just
let me check something

gubydal:
what

chatnyaa:
okay
that really did happen then

gubydal:
what do you mean?

chatnyaa:
so
you saw his phone?

gubydal:
yes?
I wasn't being a creep, I swear

chatnyaa:
so he was the friend you went out with

gubydal:
yes
I've said this already

chatnyaa:
so you were at the table with him

gubydal:
this is a lot of sos
yes, he's my friend
I've already said that

chatnyaa:
and you've known him
since before your kwami happened

gubydal:
yes?
I guess
wouldn't really call it knowing him
wait how do you know that

chatnyaa:
he's my friend

gubydal:
no, he's not
you just told me he's not

chatnyaa:
he's my best friend

-x-

Although she was curious, she didn't bring up the subject of Adrien's stories when they spoke. They continued on normally, messaging throughout the day and a call in the evening every few days, and she grinned a lot whenever she saw his name pop up on her phone. CaraPiss didn't reply to her comment, but she never expected to him to.

It was a bit strange to think that Adrien was best friends with Chat. From her knowledge, his closest friends were Nino and Chloé, and he only skimmed over mentioning others when he described his day to her.

It was just a bit surreal, that was all—well, not as much as finding out that he'd unknowingly written about her being intimate with her partner.

When he came to her building to visit Chloé, he made sure to stop on her floor first, knocking on the door to give her a quick hug and talk briefly before a text came through, asking him where he was.

With their growing friendship, Alya and Nino wanted to do a lot more things with just the four of them, rather than trying to invite everyone, and that was how she found herself with a childish apron covering her clothes, picking out some pottery to paint at a table. The music that was quietly flowing through the store was definitely aimed mostly at children, and the brightly-coloured stools were outlandish, but they matched the rest of the store.

There was no denying that Alya and Nino were aware of what they were doing when they each selected a ceramic figurine of each other to paint. There was no shared knowing smile that she'd seen, but she had been staring for a little while before Adrien nudged her with his elbow as he directed her attention to a Ladybug one that he'd found.

The selection of Ladybug and Chat Noir was a lot larger than the others, but that seemed to be the case in most places. The other four never turned up at the same time, after all, and were barely ever seen interacting together, other than when they were spotted on the weekend sometimes by wandering eyes and cameras.

When it became clear that Adrien was intending to paint a Ladybug, wanting to follow in their friend's footsteps, she rolled her eyes and chose the worst one of Chat.

He was flexing in it.

Adrien and Nino, who were the tallest in the store, had the dilemma of their knees pressing against the table, making it increasingly harder for them to paint freely. And because of that, they split off into two per table, with Marinette and Adrien to the side, sitting across from each other as they shared some water to dip their brushes in in the middle.

It wasn't quite summer, but the weather had heated up enough for her to regret wearing shorts when her thighs started to stick to the stool, and she had to shift every few minutes to get comfortable.

The conversation came freely as they squeezed our their paint, trying to find the best shades and the brushes that weren't ruined at the ends, and they had to raise their voices a little when they turned to the side to involve Alya and Nino. But, mostly, they kept to themselves as to not disturb the other children that were excitably shouting at each other across the shop.

The employee that had seated them had been kind enough to directed them to the other side, where they'd maybe get the most peace.

Adrien had a habit of sticking out his tongue when he was concentrating, and she'd found herself staring in surprise the first time she caught sight of it. Any time he would've been concentrating in classes, he would've been sat in front of her, out of view.

It was a little bit cute.

Still, as his paintbrush started to colour in the suit, she had to ask, "You're definitely a Ladybug fan, right?"

His hand didn't falter. "She's great," Adrien replied, not looking away from his painting. "Is there anyone nowadays that's not a fan of her?"

"Good point." She felt her lips tug up into a smile.

Alya's shriek of surprise beside them almost made her jump. It turned out that Nino had sneezed and caused for paint to be flicked over to her, and a splatter or two had landed on her work.

Their conversation continued normally after that, centred around a game that Marinette hadn't gotten round to playing yet, and Adrien tried his best to get her to be interested in it without spoiling any of the big reveals that happened.

She couldn't stop her laughter when he started humming along to a children's song.

Spending time with him was nice, even if he just sent stupid images or quotes when she was suffering at work, and she hoped that that was reciprocated.

"I have a question," she spoke up when she was searching for another colour. "Feel free not to answer it, if it makes you uncomfortable."

He raised his eyebrows. "This is just making me curious."

"It's nothing all that interesting," she said with a shake of her head. "I was just going to ask whether you think we're good friends or not."

Adrien made a contemplative noise as he reached across and put his brush into the water. "Isn't that obvious?"

"I just—" Marinette started, reaching up and tucking some stray hairs that had escaped her braids behind her ears. "I mean after the whole, well, crush thing."

He made a noise of amusement. "That was a few months ago."

"Yeah," she agreed, feeling a bit shy as she shifted in her seat. "And I was wondering whether that's... that's changed anything between us or not."

Stirring the brush in the water, Adrien looked at her with a soft smile. "My feelings haven't changed, if that's what you're really asking here."

"Oh." If anything, she was expecting him to say the opposite. Then again, his behaviour around her hadn't changed, so she wasn't the best to cast judgement. "Are we good friends, then?"

The laughter that escaped him was honest; she could tell from how abrupt it sounded. "Of course," he said, voice hitching a bit from where he hadn't quite finished laughing. "Couldn't you tell? I've probably spoken to you more often than even Chloé recently."

"I don't really have anything to compare it to," she pointed out as she finally selected the colour that she wanted to use.

"Maybe not," he answered with a shrug, hitting his elbow on the table with a hiss. Afterwards, he pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, regretting wearing them when paint became smeared across the ends, and dried to dab at it with a wet napkin as he nonchalantly said, "We probably talk a lot more than you realise, you know."

She blinked. "We talk every single day—unless you mean actually talk, then that's whenever you call me because you don't want to type out an essay."

"Or, maybe, I just want to talk to you," Adrien replied, his smile reaching his eyes as he looked at her. "Would that be a problem?"

As sweet as he was, Marinette answered, "As long as you know I'm not leading you on."

"Of course not," he agreed with a nod of his head. "You're waiting for someone, right?"

Squirting out some of the paint on the little plate that they were each given, Marinette felt a bit bashful as she admitted, "Yes."

Adrien hummed, looking back down to his figurine as he asked casually, "You haven't made a pact to get married at thirty, have you?"

She paused as she dipped her paintbrush onto the plate, wondering whether it was one coincidence too many. A phrase seemed too silly to focus on, but that joke—

Her brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

"No pacts?" he reiterated, gaze still not directed her way as he painted the red of her suit. "Well, that's a shame."

She couldn't help but stare.

Adrien had to have been more than aware that she was staring, as his lips curled into a lopsided grin that looked entirely too smug as he went about what he was doing, pretending that everything was normal. All the while Marinette was just wondering how she didn't notice—

Of all the things she wanted to say, she blurted out, "You can't be best friends with yourself."

A choked laugh escaped him, and he ended up raising a hand to cover his mouth to attempt to muffle the laughter. However, it was the hand that he was holding the brush with, causing an untidy streak of paint to spread across his cheek.

Adrien pulled his hand back when he felt the wetness on his cheek, but she was already laughing, too preoccupied with her amusement from the momentarily shocked expression that had appeared on his face when he'd pulled his hand away before dabbing it, causing the paint to smudge further across his skin.

She laughed. "Red isn't really your colour."

Smiling just caused the paint to stand out more. "No?"

"No," she confirmed, putting one thigh on top of the other and accidentally kicking him in the process. "It's a bit too bright for you, isn't it?"

He snorted. "Are you calling me dumb?"

"Absolutely," Marinette quipped, grinning. "But that's pretty much why I like you—can't have you outsmarting me all the time, you know?"

"Glad to know that's the only reason," Adrien mused, having the gall to wink when he met her gaze. "There's no going back to the phase where you thought I was cool, is there?"

She let out a laugh. "That's never going to happen."

"Not even if I compliment your eyelids?" His smile was wide. "They are quite pretty."

It was just so silly. It could've been dramatic, filled with conflicting emotions—especially since their two friends were at another table, completely oblivious to what was happening—but it wasn't. The warmth in her chest wasn't from nerves or worrying that she'd embarrass herself; rather, it was the happy feeling that was there whenever they were together, particularly when they were just sat with their knees touching.

Usually, it involved rooftops, rather than cramped plastic tables.

"I know they are," Marinette said, purposely batting them at him. "I'm the one that told you so."

There was no surprise clear on his features, nothing to give away that he was surprised by the conversation. "Was that smooth enough to get you to go on a date with me?"

"With Adrien?" she questioned, titling her head. "Yes."

The smile that was directed her way was almost blinding.

She couldn't resist adding on, "But you better not have it in your head that it'll turn out anything like your stories."

It was absolutely worth it for the shocked noise to escape him, the colour that appeared on his cheeks and the top of his ears paling in comparison the paint he'd smeared across his face. Adrien dropped the paintbrush carelessly as he put his face in his hands, hiding his expression with embarrassment clear in his body language.

Describing her laughter as a cackle seemed sufficient.

"Please forget they exist," he muttered, voice a bit muffled from his position. "I—they're just—"

"Masterpieces, according to a friend of mine," Marinette interrupted, amusement clear as she rested her elbows comfortably on the table. "As long as what happens in them is fiction, I really don't mind."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I won't write about anything we do."

"Well, that's good," she mused, resting her chin on a palm. "I'm dating Adrien Agreste, not anyone else."

His face was still flushed as smiled, no longer covering himself. "Absolutely."

"Then again, I'm pretty sure people might be interested in stories about you—"

Adrien's grin widened as he interjected with, "You mean you at thirteen."

"We all have that embarrassing phase," Marinette said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm very interested in what yours was."

Smoothing out his expression, he tried to keep a straight face as he stated, "Nothing's worse than the goblin interview."

She snorted. "But you were so relatable."

"You haven't even read it!"

Marinette leaned back, almost forgetting that they were sat on stools, and purposely looked at the ceiling as she mused, "Maybe I'll find it and print out a copy to hang on my wall."

He muttered, "That sounds really close to being a shrine."

"Been there, done that," she answered, a loud laugh escaping as she saw the surprise that flickered across his expression. "Oh, come on. Did you really think I'd stop at having your picture as my desktop background?"

Adrien squinted. "I don't know how to feel about this."

"Blessed that I wasn't allowed candles in my room," Marinette replied.

"...Yes, that's absolutely my feelings."