A/N: This story was written entirely for comedic purposes and is not to be interpreted as a real depiction of the themes that it presents. I am also not a native English speaker, so please keep that in mind during your read.

I hope you enjoy something lighthearted and fun!

Marinette's day started as usual, with her feet tripping over one another as she jumped down the stairs from her bedroom and headed frantically towards the door. She once again resumed her morning routine, which consisted in barely dodging running cars as she threw herself onto the streets not to be late, and arriving in front of her school with her lungs screaming for help.

Her blue eyes crossed her friend Alya's, who was eyeing her with pleased surprise in the school's yard, and she sent a mental blessing at the fact that she had for once managed to get there before class. Marinette allowed herself to relax, her and the other girl slowly approaching one another, and recomposed herself a bit. She checked her hair, running her fingers to the ends of her black pigtails to make sure that they were still in place and straightened her clothes, while silently praying to have remembered to put deodorant on.

Mornings were not Marinette's best friends: considering her wild nights as the Parisian superhero Ladybug, the start of the day was the time in which her brain completely gave up on her, making Marinette even more dumb and clumsier than she already was.

Alya's brown eyes were wide and her lips were pressed into a thin line. That face was something Marinette was used to as her best friend; it was the expression she made when she had something that she thought of as exciting or important to tell her. Knowing Alya, Marinette wouldn't even have the chance to open her mouth before she would start her little rant.

She tried to greet her anyways.

"'Morning! How are y-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good, the usual. Doesn't matter right now." Alya interrupted her, just as predicted, cutting her short. "I got important news, Mari. Very important news."

"Oh," Marinette felt her throat tense up. She didn't know whether to be worried for her life or if to actually be excited. The result of her inner confusion was an awkward smile. "Really? What kind of news?"

"The kind that you should be jumping out of a window for how happy you are or, alternatively, bow down to me and kiss my feet for the rest of the school year." Alya smirked, which frightened her friend to no end. "This is just that good."

Had Marinette mentioned that her civilian life was one heck of a mess just as her superhero one was, and that keeping one from the other was her top priority? She was kind of trying not to show her friend how her amazing news could be linked to a way to just unleash complete chaos in her life by just, well, unmasking her. Alya was one of her major sources of stress with her ideas on how to 'reveal Ladybug's identity' or 'get Ladybug to confess her civilian address so that she could get a private interview.' There were times in which Marinette was afraid of every word that came out of her mouth, terrified that her friend had somehow figured out the connection between her and her superhero persona.

Of course, there were also times in which Alya only focused on getting her set up with her crush, Adrien Agreste. Those days were just as awful.

"There is a competition in around two months or so," Alya took her stressed silence as a clue to continue with her short monologue. "And it's a fashion competition."

Relief washed over Marinette, and then excitement kicked in. Alya didn't miss the sparkle in her blue eyes.

"Got your interest, didn't I? Well, this thing is really awesome if you ask me, and I think it would be pretty awesome for you to participate. If you win you get selected for a future scholarship at a couple of fashion schools here in Paris and a free ticket to the Milan fashion week next year."

"WHAT?" Marinette jumped on the spot, hands gripping tightly on her bag. "Alya, where did you find this?! How do I sign up for it?!"

A couple of people turned towards her, eyeing her with either amusement or confusion, but she didn't care. She knew she was being childish but.. Could she really blame herself for being excited for something that could be described as her dream turned into reality? She had always loved fashion, and winning such a competition could have given her a future in the world she admired so much. Plus, it was not like she could actually imagine herself walking in the Milan Fashion Week, alongside influential stylists and models, without a recommendation of the kind she could get if she won; even if she somehow managed to get a career in fashion, there was no guarantee she would ever have the chance to go there.

"It's all over the internet," Alya was grinning now. "And you can sign up on this website right here!"

The girl took her phone out, handling it to Marinette, who almost made it slip out of her hands for how happy and excited she was.

She looked at the web page, reading its content: the competition was called Fabricate Your Future, and was a collaboration between many big names of the Parisian fashion industry, Gabriel Incorporated included. A portfolio was required for the first selection, taking place in exactly two months time, as well as some professional photos of some finished designs on a model. The website didn't give any more information regarding the following stage of the competition, and said that the ones that were qualified for it would receive information directly from the admission team.

"Oh my god," Marinette struggled to get her words out. A high-pitched laugh escaped her mouth, something that sounded overly-excited and that made Alya melt because of how cute it was. "This is amazing! It's everything I could ever want and… I can't believe this is actually real!" The girl threw herself in Alya's arms, hugging her tightly and never ceasing to smile. Suddenly she stiffened, pulling away from her with a doubtful look. "But I will never make it."

Alya blinked at her friend, taken by surprise. "Wait, what? What do you mean you will never make it?"

"I just…" Marinette put some distance between her and the other teen, holding her left arm and not daring to meet the other's eyes. "I mean what I said. I'm not good enough. This competition is a big deal, and I don't think… I'm just not competent enough to have any chance of even passing the first round. I don't want to sign up for something I know I will lose, it's better to just not try at all and spare myself from the disappointment."

A wave of sadness, anger, and confusion passed through Alya's eyes, all in the matter of a second. She inhaled sharply, only to immediately exhale and bring her hands to her hips. "Marinette," her tone was the one of a leader, someone who was not going to allow anyone to discuss her words. "Do not, and I repeat, do not give me that bullshit. You are talented, creative, and brilliant, and I will not let you lose this opportunity because of your insecurity complex or whatever." She raised an eyebrow, head tilting to the side confidently. "It's not happening under my watch."

"Alya," Marinette tried to complain. "You say that because you are my friend. I am nowhere near being good enough to be judged by the heads of the best fashion brands, I have still so much to learn and I just… I don't want to do this if I know that I'm going to lose."

"Okay, first of all; thank you so much for thinking so little of my judgement, it means a lot to me, really." The sarcasm in her voice was as strong as her annoyance, but Marinette could tell she had good intentions. "Secondly: have you forgotten you won a competition of this kind before? Because I do. It was the one about the pigeon hat that almost made Adrien have a quick trip to the hospital. Oh, and since we are mentioning Mr. Blondie, don't you remember that even he complimented your work? The son of Gabriel Agreste, the man that you idolise so much? I mean, the boy is no fashion designer or whatever, but he has been living, breathing fashion for all of his life. That has to mean something."

Marinette just stared at her friend, biting her lower lip. It wasn't like Alya was wrong, she was well aware of all the things that her friend had just listed, but she still somehow felt as if everything she had done until now was worthless. She could not think of herself as being good enough, that was a concept that seemed distant, impossible to reach.

"Listen," the other continued, calmer now. "I'm not saying you are going to win. I can't know that. I just think that you have a solid chance and that you should give it a try, okay?"

She still was unsure, and Alya knew that. Before she could react, the aspiring journalist grabbed her by her shoulders, forcing her to look straight in her eyes as she talked to her.

"Mari, I know you. You would regret not giving this a chance. Don't let your insecurity stop you from getting one step closer to your dream."

She was being given a certain look she wasn't capable of saying no to, she realised. Alya could have told her that it was raining cauliflowers and she would have believed her, had she been looking at her with those big, sincere eyes of hers. What she said made sense and really, she had nothing to lose.

She had bravely fought akumas even when the odds were against her, she couldn't let her lack of confidence affect her this hard; it would not be fair to herself and to the people who believed in her and that would cheer her on. She couldn't be so selfish.

"You are right." She hugged her friend, obtaining a satisfied giggle in response. "I won't let this opportunity slip away from me! I will do everything I can to at least pass the first selection!"

"That's my girl! And I will be there to help you! Speaking of help," Alya glanced behind Marinette, and started to wave her hand to someone she couldn't see. "Hey there, Blonde Boy! Come here, we've got something to ask you!"

Marinette's blood froze in her veins. She didn't need to turn around to see who was coming, Alya's mischievous smile already told her everything she needed to know. Before she could do anything, the perfect golden hair of Adrien Agreste entered her field of vision, the boy casually standing beside her.

"Hey," he greeted with the warmest, kindest smile one could ever imagine on the face of a somehow de-aged Greek god. "How can I help you?"

Alya shot her a threatening and yet subtle glare, something that was supposed to deliver a message along the lines of 'come on, speak up, he's your crush AND could be a huge help for the competition," to which Marinette tried to answer back, with her neural paralysis: 'I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this- oh god, I can't do this.'

It took a quiet cough from the blond for Alya to stir into action, grabbing her friend by her shoulders and positioning her beside her, facing in this way the boy.

"Marinette here," she gestured to her. "Is planning on participating on your father's competition. You know, the one in two months?"

Adrien - bless his soul really - didn't pay much attention to Marinette's rigid smile, and caught up with the journalist rather quickly, excitement showing through his big, beautiful green eyes.

"Really?" he turned briefly to Marinette, smiling brightly at her. "Marinette, I'm so glad you are doing this! You have such good chances to win and I'm a big fan of your work, I'm sure you will pass the selection!"

Amazing, now even Adrien Agreste was part of Alya's very own cheerleader squad, which meant he was someone else that she could possibly disappoint with failing. Marinette's list of anxiety causes was alarmingly getting longer and longer with every minute, and she knew that she could not handle it. She just stared at him, trying her best not to get lost in his eyes or the candid whiteness of his perfect teeth.

"Y-you thanks. I m-mean, thank you."

Once again, Alya burst in, saving her 'sorry, glittery ass,' as she would have called it. "Yeah, so… You know how you need to take professional photos of finished designs?"

The boy nodded.

"Well, Marinette kind of hoped you could help her with that. You see, I'm an aspiring journalist and all and I take pictures all the time for the Ladyblog, but I know nothing of modeling and I sure as hell can't do any sort of professional photo shoots."

"Yeah, I get it. It can get really complicated." Adrien's giggle sounded heavenly to Marinette's ears. "I'd be glad to help. I could model for you, I don't think my father would mind, and I could ask a couple of really good female models I know to help you out as well." He winked at them both. "It'd be good to have both female and male designs, it would really impress the judges in my opinion. It would show that you are versatile and that you can take on challenges."

"That would be just perfect! And the idea of female and male designs is just genius!" Alya clapped her hands, bringing his attention on her once again and avoiding Adrien to actually notice Marinette's drooling mouth. The bell rang, startling the teens. "Would you mind giving me your phone so that I can write Mari's number on it and you two can discuss the matter this afternoon or something?"

"Sure!" Adrien shrugged as he handled the device to her. He waited patiently for Alya to be done, and then waved to both girls. "I'll head to class now. I'll talk to you later, okay Marinette?"

She tried to answer him. Really, she did, but the only thing that came out of her mouth were incomprehensible gurgling noises. Alya decided that she was having none of that, and pinched her.

She screamed loud enough for every person in the school courtyard to hear her.

"YES!"

Marinette wanted to dig a deep, deep hole underground and bury herself in it and not see the sunshine ever again.

Alya had threatened that she would find and personally give her a painful death if she tried to flee the country, so Marinette limited herself to nervously tap her foot on the ground as she waited for Adrien at the café he had told her to meet him at.

He had texted her during lunch, thing that had almost made her choke on her food and greatly concerned her mother, saying that he had arranged a meeting with a model he was good friends with that afternoon, just after his photo shoot.

Adrien : Hey :) I talked with a couple of people and a friend would like to meet you this afternoon! Would that be okay with you?

Marinette had taken a solid five minutes to answer him between her freaking out and her shaking fingers, only to find that she was able to stutter even via text.

Me: Eyah, I'd be hppy to do that!

Adrien : Cool! ^ ^ I'm sorry I could only find one, the others are all too busy with work with all the new collections coming up. But this one is really good, I swear, and is also really nice! I'm sure you'll work really well together!

Me: M sure of it too! cAN't wait!

Whilst she had never wanted to end her life as much as during that lunch period, she still complimented herself for having had a 'conversation' with Adrien and having actually achieved something out of it. His idea of having both male and female designs was brilliant and exciting: she couldn't wait to get to work on some of the ideas that had been running through her head for the past hours, and having Adrien to model for her was a dream come true.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw two figures approach her; she recognised the taller one as Adrien, and identified the slender figure beside him as the model friend he had told her about. Her black, curly hair reached her hips, and Marinette stared with awe at how good her chocolate features looked against her delicate, white sundress. She was wearing make-up, her glossy lips turned into a shade of light purple. Her beauty struck her, as well as her simplicity and glamour.

Her eyes finally met Adrien's, and her heart stopped.

He wasn't in his simple usual attire: he was wearing black, tight jeans and and a grey v-neck T-shirt, with a dark blue shirt hanging from his waist. His hair was pulled back, golden locks hiding underneath a small beanie. His skin was somehow glowing, radiating light on its own, and his eyelashes seemed somehow longer and darker. As he got closer to her, her eyes fell on his collarbone and neck, which were usually covered, and her mind came up with a simple, straight forward conclusion.

Adrien Agreste was too hot to be legal.

He smiled at her, finally reaching her. "Hey, sorry if we are a little late. We were having a shoot closeby and it took a little longer than expected." He scratched the back of his head. "We are kinda skipped the whole 'take-your-clothes-and-makeup-off' part, so we should go back pretty soon if you don't mind."

Marinette stared at him, and then at his friend, and then at him again. She gulped. How could she have a conversation with him right now if she couldn't handle him at a normal basis?

She was so screwed.

"So," he continued, gesturing to his friend. "This is Penelope, the model I've told you about." His hand then moved on Marinette. "Penelope, this is Marinette."

Penelope extended her hand. "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Marinette tried with all of her might to focus on her long eyelashes to stop herself from thinking about how Adrien was next to her, breathing the same air as her, and dedicating part of his time to her.

"H-hi," she said mechanically as she imitated the other girl. "The pleasure is, uh.. All mine."

"Shall we sit?" Adrien asked, directing the two girl towards a little table situated just outside of the small café. He grabbed a chair, helping Penelope sitting down, and then moved onto doing the same thing to Marinette before settling down as well.

He was so nice. And also hot. And so, so nice.

Silence fell for a minute between the trio, only to be broken by Penelope's soft giggle.

"I thought Adrien was exaggerating," she eyed the boy, smiling. "But you are quite shy."

Marinette laughed. It was a nervous laugh of course, but it was easier than to actually answer her at all. Penelope wasn't the problem, given another setting, she would have made friends with her quite easily; it was the fact that Adrien was sitting closer than 10 cm away from her that didn't let her form any sort of coherent speech in her head.

"Marinette might be shy, but she is super talented," Adrien broke in with his usual cheerful attitude. "You should have seen some of her work, it's almost at the level of a professional. That's why I think it would be awesome if you could model for her."

"That depends," Penelope put her hands under her chin, observing Marinette with interest. "I'd like to model for you too, but I have a couple of questions. For starters, how often would this be?"

Marinette got a hold of herself. Or better, she tried to get a hold of herself. "W-well, I would need to take your measurements and work with you for the first couple of days after the design is done I suppose, but I r-really can't tell. I'm not a professional, something might come up that would require me to ask you to help me some more."

"Mmmh, I see, that's understandable. But then, how much would I be paid?"

Marinette blinked. Paid? She wanted to be paid? She couldn't do that, she certainly didn't have enough money to be paying a professional model.

"Ah," Adrien interrupted. "I'm sorry Penelope, I kind of didn't mention this to you. I was hoping you could do this, well… for free."

"Oh," Penelope's expression was not outraged, there was sincere surprise and consideration into her eyes. "That makes things a bit more complicated..."

"Does it?" Adrien sounded worried now.

"It's just…" there was sadness in the model's voice, her eyebrows furrowing upwards. "I can't promise that I will always be there to model for you, Marinette. If you won't be paying me, that would mean me working for free and possibly taking away time from a photo shoot for which I am actually paid for. Of course, I wouldn't mind that and that's not always going to happen, but… I can't take this kind of commitment when I know I probably won't be able to help you."

Marinette's mouth closed in a thin line. She would have lied if she said that she wasn't disappointed; the idea of having a professional modeling for her was something she had been looking forward to see.

"I… I understand," she managed to say.

"I'm sorry," Penelope apologised. "I really am."

"No, it's okay!" She continued. "You were nice enough to come and talk to me. You even sacrificed your break to do this. I'm already really grateful to you."

Penelope's chocolate eyes turned to Adrien, asking him for help. The girl was uncomfortable, as she probably felt guilty for saying no, but knew that there was no way she could have said yes to Marinette.

Adrien nodded to her, smiling kindly. "Marinette's right, you already helped enough. Don't worry too much, go back and get your makeup done. I'll meet you later over there."

The girl sighed, but eventually stood up. "Okay then." She approached Marinette, taking her hand again. "It really was a pleasure to meet you, Marinette, I hope I can see you soon and maybe work together another time."

"Sure!" Marinette said, trying to put a little of enthusiasm behind her words.

She watched Penelope leave, waving at them both as she disappeared behind the corner of the street she and Adrien had come from. She then proceeded to stare at her own feet, wondering what she would do now. She didn't want to discard the idea of creating female designs, but she would have to do that eventually if she didn't manage to find someone who could model for her.

"I'm sorry," Adrien's voice brought her back to reality. He looked distressed. "It's my fault. I should have explained more in detail the situation to her, it was dumb of me not to do that."

Marinette didn't like what he was doing, blaming himself for something he had no control on. She tried to console him. "N-no, you… It's not your fault! You tried to help me, and t-that's more than enough!"

Adrien didn't look too convinced, but still smiled at her. He took her hand, green orbs locking onto blue. "Don't be sad, okay? Leave it to me."

Marinette's heart stopped, again. She stared at his lips, and wished for one day to try them on her own. What did they taste like? How soft were they, really?

"I will find a way to help you. I promise."

Marinette hadn't given much thought to what Adrien had told her. In fact, the following saturday, she was still depressed over how she would have to scrap her female designs ideas, doodling pointlessly on her notebook. Tikki was resting silently close to her, giving her space after having tried to console her more than once.

Marinette's eyes rose from her desk as her mother knocked onto her door, peeking her head in. Her blue eyes darted to Tikki, only to see that she was already safely hidden.

"Yes, Mom?"

"Sweetie," Sabine started. "There's someone downstairs waiting for you, you should come down and greet them."

Marinette rose from her chair, confused. She wasn't expecting anybody today, but then again, it wasn't unusual for Alya to show up at her place without telling her. Nevertheless, she was curious as she headed down with her mother, who sounded worried.

"Marinette, next time tell me when a friend is coming over, so I'll prepare something for them to eat."

"Mom, we live in a bakery," Marinette pointed out as she laughed. "We are always preparing something to eat."

"That's true, honey," Sabine agreed, heading now towards the little kitchen counter. "But it would be still nice to let me know beforehand, don't you think?"

She nodded as she left the room, arriving in the bakery. Her eyes searched for someone she knew, but only found a girl she couldn't recognise waiting patiently at the counter. She approached her, looking at her long, blonde hair and green eyes, as well as her broad shoulders and thin waist. She was quite tall, and was wearing a white, short dress with a military green jacket on top. She didn't know the girl, and yet there was something familiar about her that she couldn't explain.

She smiled at her. "Hello, how can I help you?"

The girl narrowed her eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as her pink lips curled up into a soft grin. "Hi Marinette!"

Something caused the named girl to stop in her tracks. The voice, that voice was weird. Not only it was very low and unfitting for her guest's features, but she also seemed to recognise it from somewhere.

The girl suddenly laughed, and then Marinette knew.

She had known that laugh for a long time. She had cherished and appreciated it to no end; never would she have expected to hear it from someone in high-heels and a dress.

"A-Adrien?"

The girl spinned on her heels, her skirt following her gently.

"At your service, Marinette!"

A/N: Oh boy, if you think that Adrien is not going to exploit this opportunity of dressing as a girl then you've got a big storm coming.

Seriously, some pretty incredible stuff is going to happen here! Get ready for some serious wtf moments, as well as Marinette's multiple breakdowns.

A couple of things to know about me:
- I'm not a native English speaker
- I'm really, REALLY lazy when it comes to writing
- I usually don't even read my chapters twice before posting them

Please be merciful and let me know what you think of this!