#chlonettte

[dylansdavis]

I ship all ships in Miraulous Ladybug.

[astrangetypeofchemistry]

cute girls’ decor and how it brings childhood enemies together

my present to @agrestenoir for the @thinkoutsidethelovesquare remix exchange. i chose to remix sink, swim, or sleepwalk (and by that, i mean literally one line that makes me laugh whenever i think of it, i’m sad)

anyway, erin you mentioned liking chloe so i’m aggressively throwing chlonette at you. i hope you like.

find this mess on ao3

the thing marinette finds best about is chloe, she thinks, is the way that she refuses to admit it when she compliments her.

she notices it when she comments on chloe’s appearance for the first time, a soft murmur of “you’re so pretty” escaping into the space between them. chloe’s hair was left down, pushed back with only a headband. chloe’s reaction was to duck, a second to recover before she pulls her head back up, changing the topic completely. marinette fights the urge to keep complimenting her, the gloss of the pink lipstick on her lips, or the winged eyeliner making her eyes pop brighter than the stars in the sky, too entranced by the bright blush that takes way too long to leave chloe’s cheek.

it starts when they’re in university, somehow friends on snapchat. at first, chloe posts excessively about a boyfriend until she abruptly stops. from there, it’s a few dark screened snaps, just a second long, filled with long paragraphs of self loathing. marinette accidentally replied “why?” to one of them, forgetting that it is chloe’s snap. a few biting comments about not caring exchange between them, before their interaction completely stops.

and then, a few days later, chloe messages her again while marinette is pulling an allnighter, a small “how do you do it?” that fills marinette with so much emotion, she can’t help but write long paragraphs of nights where she questioned her self-worth before she’d found alya.

‘and maybe,’ marinette had said to chloe, ‘you were part of that self-hatred i’d built up for myself. but i’m finding, that i don’t hate you for it, because to expect you to be perfect in those years is unrealistic, because i was toxic too. just in my own way. i’ve grown, ad i’m hoping you have too.’

and then the conversation stops, with no response from chloe, and no new conversations from marinette. marinette doesn’t comment on how their entire conversation is saved, or how sometimes, when she accidentally opens it, chloe’s bitmoji is peeking at it.

this quiet refusal to acknowledge whatever is happening between them, whatever passed between them during that one quiet night follows marinette when alya finally manages to drag her out for a night. it’s marinette stuck with people she doesn’t know, people alya’s been surrounded by for the past few months.

marinette’s just slightly tipsy when she motions to alya that she’s headed to the bathroom. with a nod of acknowledgment from alya she turns away, heading towards the hall. sound is quieter there, and marinette finally feels like she can breathe. being stuck with a bunch of people she doesn’t know has been exhausting, and even the small break away from them is liberating.

it’s when she’s heading back out, slightly distracted, when she bumps into another body. the person turns around, to chew her out or whatever, but then they freeze at seeing her. marinette’s own insides churn, shock bruising her already bad night.

“chloe?” she almost screams, the beat of the music drowning out her sound. but chloe still hears her, still understands that the club is too loud, too hot, too crowded.

her hand reaches for marinette’s wrist, clasping tightly as she leads her out. they end up outside the front doors, yet chloe still doesn’t stop, dragging marinette behind her.

“where are we going?” marinette finally asks after five minutes of being led down unfamiliar roads, only to be shushed. marinette has live in paris all her life, and yet she hasn’t ever walked down the path chloe is leading her.

they don’t stop, walking long enough for marinette to wonder why she still hasn’t ripped her hand away from chloe and walked off. the streets they’re walking on are filled with people mingling, a few curious stares thrown at them. but chloe is either too distracted, or is choosing to ignore them, her hand still tightly gripping marinette.

she is a force of nature, marinette decides, seeing the way chloe’s only goal is to lead marinette further and further, no hesitation. she was one when they were younger, delivering unwanted quips to everyone she met, and she still is, not stopping to think about what she wants to accomplish. it’s a giant contrast to the younger marinette, who stuttered and blushed in front of the people she liked, never able to make a move.

which isn’t to say marinette likes chloe, or that chloe likes marinette. far from it, marinette is sure. chloe may be beautiful with the way her hair curls with the soft breeze, or the way her face lights up with every smile in the selfies she posts. but marinette doubts that, even if she likes chloe, chloe likes her back. and marinette’s given up chasing ghosts, stopped running after stories that she can’t have the courage to be a part of.

it seems somewhere on their journey chloe snaps out of her haze because she freezes, turning to marinette in absolute horror. marinette continues to stare at her in confusion, wondering if chloe had been drunk and out of it, finally sobering because of the chill. and a minute passes, two, before she finally acknowledges that chloe looks like she’s about to run away.

“you’re not leaving,” marinette cuts across her rapid thoughts, staring at chloe with just the slightest hint of warmth. “i don’t know where we are.”

chloe is still registering their surroundings, still lost and confused as she stares at marinette. “then why did you follow me?”

“i was admiring the decor,” marinette responds, forgetting that just a second ago she’d decide that this, anything, between her and chloe is impossible. some part of her just really wants to goad and bait chloe. and just before she could regret it, chloe’s blushing a red brighter than the yellow she’s always worn. and then, with just a slightly sly smile she adds, “i love looking at cute girls’ decor.”

chloe’s eyes widen, searching marinette for something before she decides on something. she steps back, confusing marinette with the way her head tilts up the way it always did when they were younger, as if she were trying to give herself importance. “you can use the map on your infernal cellular device, i’m sure.”

and then she walks away, confusing marinette with the abrupt change in her mood.

marinette walks home, using the gps on her phone. midway through it starts raining, and some petty part of her promises revenge on chloe, if and when the opportunity arises. months pass before she finds herself in the same room as chloe.

it’s at a gala filled with rich people, marinette helping her parents cater. she notices chloe right away, swiping on her phone and ignoring everyone around her. some part of marinette wants to walk over right away, spending the entire annoying chloe.

it shocks marinette a little, this innate need to actually be around chloe, and she finds it a good thing that she’s there to work. she doesn’t think she’d have the self control to stay away from chloe if she wasn’t.

it’s hours later when her parents let her know that she’s off the hook when she practically runs off to chloe, knowing that she hadn’t moved much all night. marinette had glanced at her so often, she knew that anyone who had attempted to talk to chloe had been shooed away, barely even given a glance.

“you’re looking a little lonely,” marinette greets, her mouth resting on the shell of chloe’s ear, pressing a hand against her waist. she’d honestly expected chloe to pull away without looking at her, expected to have to dodge a punch.

she didn’t expect the little sigh that had escaped chloe, or the way she leaned even closer to marinette. “i am.”

marinette gulps, overtaken by the scent of whatever shampoo chloe uses. “is that so?”

chloe turns her head to the left, a smile playing across her lips as she stares at marinette out of the corner of her eye. “are you here to admire the decor?”

her phone, marinette realizes with a jolt, is open to their old conversation on snapchat. “depends. will you leave me stranded to walk in the rain again?”

chloe smiles at marinette, her entire body following the motion of her head. as soon as chloe is facing marinette completely, her arm wraps around marinette’s back, leaning closer. “didn’t realize you would’ve minded.”

at this point, marinette’s pretty screwed, having completely forgotten about whatever petty revenge she was looking for, and a little dizzy from the proximity to chloe. “if you’ll tell me why you left, maybe i’ll consider forgiving you.”

chloe smiles coyly, poking at marinette as she nudges their noses together. “would you believe me if i told you i was nervous?”

“depends.”

for a moment, marinette stands in silence, her eyes staring into chloe’s with an intensity she never thought she was capable of. and then, before either girl could react much, marinette crashes their lips together, chloe’s hand gently resting on her jaw and pushing lightly.

“not here,” she whispers, prompting marinette to nod. with a light smile, chloe pulls away from marinette, gripping her hand and leading her out of the room. they somehow stumble to the elevator, chloe’s hand clumsily pushing at the button to call it down.

as soon as they step in, marinette feels disappointed, having fully expected chloe to pounce on her. instead, the other girl just stares at her reflection off the elevator doors as they close, muttering about how much of a mess her hair is. and then, with a side glance at marinette, she declares “thanks for giving me an excuse to get out of there,” turning away as if that was the end of their interaction for the night.

which, of course, confused marinette, as she’d assumed they’d be spending at least a little more time together.

“that’s it?” marinette asks, shocked and a little taken aback at the way chloe just shrugs.

“what else were you expecting?”

marinette isn’t sure what possesses her to move close to chloe, her arms attempting to cage chloe in. “more.” she stresses the word heavily, hoping against hope that chloe knew what she meant.

in turn, chloe huffs out a laugh, her head tossing back. “more, huh? what, like you’d actually be interested in that?”

marinette takes careful note of the way chloe says nothing about what she wants, torn over what that said about her desires. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“nothing,” chloe sneers, attempting to duck underneath marinette’s arm. in turn, marinette moves closer, their bodies brushing together.

“don’t decide what i do or don’t want, chloe. that’s up to me and me alone.”

chloe tilts her head back subconsciously, her updo scrunched up against the wall. her eyebrow raises at marinette, a smirk playing around her lips. “then what do you want?”

marinette wonders if the quick glances she steals at chloe’s lips are noticeable before she finally gives her response. “i’ve already made that clear. the question is if you want the same thing.”

“that’ll never be clear enough for you.”

it turns out, the answer is as simple as it is satisfying.

it also turns out that marinette happens to like checking out chloe’s decor a lot. and if it ends up being a part of marinette’s vows at their wedding...

well, can you really blame her?

[queerinette]

the autumn weather turns leaves to flames (but you, you make my heart burn like an inferno)

Hey, party people. I don’t know if you’re aware, but @chlonetteweek started today. You can check out the prompts and participate in whatever way you’d like. 

This is my shitty, unedited, choppy contribution. Go Chlonettte!

You can also find these on AO3

September has always been Chloé’s favorite month of the year. The breeze that makes its way through the streets lifts Chloé up, raising her heart from the heavy weight she’s been carrying for years. It’s not hot enough to make her hate waking up, but it’s not so cold that loneliness settles deep in her bones. There’s no longing for another human being, no desire for human warmth.

It’s comfortable, practical weather, and Chloé would fight to prove it was the best time of the year.

It seems fitting somehow that September is the month she meets Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It wasn’t a particularly special day. She’d woken up feeling hollow, her quiet apartment draining energy out of her. Her head was sluggish as she got out of bed, eyes barely staying open. Her neighbors were screaming at each other again, a daily occurrence that never failed to rouse her. They’d start every morning with an argument, telling Chloé why she shouldn’t go around looking for relationships; at night, she could hear them talking to one another, the sounds of soft kissing and mumbled reassurances bringing her to tears with an ache that never seemed to go away.

It had taken two hours for her to finally move around at a normal place, her hair pulled back and clean, ironed clothes adorning her frame. A cup of coffee filled her up as she grabbed her stuff and left the apartment, in the same neat fashion she’d done for the past three years.

Somewhere, a fourteen-year-old Chloé Bourgeois was screaming at her current life, angry that there weren’t loyal followers kissing her feet at every step. Present-day Chloé was glad that the nasty looks thrown her way were few and in between, and that her life was more peace than chaos. It shouldn’t have taken a national scandal to finally pull her off her high horse, but regret was a little too late in coming.

It was a relief that people moved on fast, and disappearing in a city as big as Paris wasn’t hard, even if you were the mayor’s daughter.

Her hands shook as the door closed behind her, and Chloé took a minute to lean against it, her eyes closing as she took a deep breath before she pushed off and began her day. The walk to work was brisk, her steps quick and face downcast. Voices blurred into one, and human bodies became nothing more than obstacles to avoid. Chloé felt calm and energized, the weather doing wonders on her mood.

Getting up was hard, but seeing people live their lives was worth the effort, worth the hours that she spent just gathering the energy to keep existing.

Madame Hidalgo’s office was quiet as Chloé made her way to her own desk, her purse resting under the desk. She’d take her phone out, check to see notifications, but the last person who’d cared about her had long given up, too angry at her avoidance of every attempt at conversation. Now her phone was barren, filled with empty contacts of people she’d gone on one date with and then never heard from.

Not to mention, receiving countless death threats on all social media went pretty far in convincing her that it was time to leave everything behind.

Her inbox filled with meeting requests, and calls came through her phone, and Chloé masked her voice the way she always did, transferring calls and files alike. It was boring, tedious work with a hint of surprise before going back to the mundane. She never thought she’d enjoy a job like this, but she’d come to enjoy it. There was nothing better than people avoiding you because they were too busy with their own problems.

It was sad how her dream job had went from something that would make her glamorous to something that would make her invisible, but growing up was a strange experience. For her, growing up had been abandoning her father and doing everything in her power to make sure he wouldn’t come for her as well.

Someone stopped right in front of Chloé’s desk, and she plastered on her smile, looking up to see the woman standing in front of her.

The first thing she noticed were bright blue eyes; so bright, in fact, that Chloé felt like she was 5 years old again, smiling at the sky with Adrien by her side. It was the smile she noticed next, stretched wide and pointed directly at Chloé. There was something stirring in Chloé’s heart, the way there always was whenever someone attractive existed anywhere near her.

“Are you Chloé?” the stranger asks, and Chloé nods at once, trying not to let her cheeks redden as the stranger smiles even wider. Her heart hurts, a distant voice in her mind telling her she doesn’t deserve such a kind smile, such kind eyes, not after what happened-

“Are you looking for Madame Hidalgo?” Chloé asks, tone clipped and professional. She winced internally at the sound of it, but it’d been her only way to communicate in the past few years. Distant, cold, professional.

But the stranger continues to smile at that, leans against her desk, and holds out her hand. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was told to coordinate some times with you so I can give strategic fashion advice to Madame Hidalgo.”

“The woman sure could use it,” Chloé mutters, and then freezes, realizing what exactly she had said. Marinette laughs fully, her hand hanging between them. Chloé stares at the red polish on Marinette’s nails, the color chipped and faded in some areas. “I apologize for my unnecessary comment.”

As Chloé watches, Marinette licks her lips before straightening again. “Well, originally the plan was that you find an hour and a half every week for me to meet with her, but now that I’m here…”

Her eyes appraised Chloé, who struggled not to blush. Positive human attention was weird when you’d stopped being surrounded by it.

“Well, I’d like for you to also fit me into your schedule. Hopefully for tonight.”

There was a small bud of hope blooming in her that she’d thought was extinguished on the last date, but it seemed that no matter what, a small amount of flattery was all it took to flower.

“I can think about it,” Chloé responded, internally cheering because it didn’t sound nearly as detached. “But I’m afraid my couch and I have plans.”

Marinette’s laughs again, her cheeks reddening slightly. “You can’t break away? Even for me?”

“I can think about it.”

Marinette watches her for a few seconds, a smile lighting up her eyes. And then she pulls her arm back, disappointing Chloé to the core, until she extends it again with a business card in hand.

“Well,” Marinette says, and Chloé dies because a cute girl a cute girl, a really effing cute girl. “If you’re ever done deciding, give me a call.”

Marinette leaves after that, but she leaves Chloé with excitement, and a genuine reason to smile.

Outside, the September weather cools Marinette’s bright red cheeks as she hides her smile.