Heyo! New fic here~ Please comment if you enjoyed it! Also tell me any more LGBT+ ideas you want to see!

Alya Césaire. Friend, girlfriend, blogger extraordinaire. There were many words that described Alya, and almost all of them were good. She wasn't popular, but almost everyone she knew loved her. She was blessed, she knew, to have so many friends that truly cared about her.

So, she wondered, why was she so nervous?

Anyone in her situation would be, she assured herself. What she was about to do, well, it was intimidating to think about. It was something that would change her life forever. This wasn't as simple as coding a website and keeping up daily with a blog. This was new territory. Normally she wasn't one to shy away from new things, but here she was... Almost about to chicken out.

But Alya was no chicken.

She clenched her fists tightly as she watched the clock slowly count towards the end of the school day. She could do it. All she had to do was talk to Marinette, it wasn't like it was the end of the world or anything. And Marinette was her friend! She would understand. She would be there for her.

Five minutes.

Five minutes, and her and Marinette would be out of class. She would take Marinette towards the back of the school, where they often hung out to be alone. And then... And then she would tell her... Her head pounded and she realized it was her heart beat, wild and loud in her head.

She was going to be sick.

Four minutes.

She was definitely going to be sick. She hoped her face wasn't green or anything, that would be weird. No need to ruin things before they begin, right?

She glanced at Marinette, who was still oblivious to her internal struggles. Alya's best friend simply followed the teacher with her eyes and a small, bored smile on her face.

Three minutes.

Alya couldn't even remember what the lesson had been about. She could barely remember what she had for lunch that day; she had been too nervous to really focus. She hoped she hadn't missed anything important, but sometimes other things are more important, she supposed.

Two minutes.

Marinette zipped her bag beside her and flashed a grin that made Alya's heart leap.

She couldn't do this. It was a bad idea. It would ruin everything, Marinette would think she was weird, so much could go wrong.

One minute.

Alya smiled back.

Marinette had quickly sensed something was wrong once the bell rang, and said nothing as Alya quietly led her to their spot. It was a corner of the school with soft grass, and it was almost in the shade. Alya was sure no one else knew about it, otherwise everyone would want it. They were lucky, though, and got the whole corner to themselves. It was quiet and private, and she had never been more grateful for it existing.

They sat beside each other, and Alya leaned against the wall. She stared up at the sky and swallowed anxiously as what she wanted to say buzzed around her head.

Why was this so hard?

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt and could practically feel Marinette's burning curiosity. She wanted to speak, but she waited. Alya appreciated it.

Ala closed her eyes. She could do it. Just say it. Just. Say. It.

She heard Marinette gasp beside her, and a moment of panic overtook her.

She had just blurted it out without thought, without even realizing it. She had ruined everything, Marinette wouldn't understand, why had she said it?

Her eyes were still closed. She felt a hand on her arm, but didn't dare look. She knew as soon as she opened her eyes tears would begin to spill out, and she couldn't do that. She couldn't let Marinette see her cry.

"Alya," Her best friend's voice was kind and warm, as it always was, "Alya, please look at me. Talk to me. I'm here for you. What are best friends for?"

Alya smiled a bit and hung her head. She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes, slowly. A single tear landed on her jeans, but she blinked the rest away as Marinette wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into Marinette's embrace, and felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

"I'm here, Alya."

Telling Nino had been a bit more... Interesting. Her boyfriend of almost a year, she could never keep anything from him. They weren't overly affectionate like a lot of couples, but they were both okay with that. They were like best friends that went on dates, and it was amazing. There was nothing else more she wanted than to stay with him, and stay the way they were.

Of course, that didn't mean she was immune to change. She had to tell him, she knew, and things would be different. Even if he was okay with it like Marinette had been, it still would change their relationship. She didn't want to lose him, but she couldn't lie. Not anymore. She had lied to him, to all of them, for long enough. The closest thing to a secret she had ever kept from any of them, and it was the biggest thing in her life.

She just hoped he wouldn't be mad.

Of course, the way it came out wasn't very conventional. They had been sitting on the couch, her legs stretched across his lap and a bowl of popcorn resting on top of them. Sunlight shone lazily through the partially opened blinds, and they both stared at the TV.

She had just begun to wonder if it was a good time to tell him when he spoke.

"I think I'm bi."

She blinked. She looked at him, and noticed he was still looking at the TV. She smiled, amused by how similar their method of communicating was.

"I think I have you beat." He glanced at her, and the surprise on his face gave her just enough courage to continue. "I'm bi, and I'm a boy."

He blinked. Then he smiled, tentatively, unsure of if she was serious or not. The look on her face said she was, so he gently continued, "Whoa now, no need to get competitive."

They laughed together, both a lot lighter than they had been before. He explained to her his years of crushing on guys and thinking it was just a 'bro thing' (she rolled her eyes). In return she explained that, eventually, she wanted to start using 'he' pronouns. Not yet, since 'she' was only out to a few people, of course, but eventually. She also said that, yes, as far as she knew she would keep going by Alya. She liked the name.

She punched him when he suggested she change it to "Alyo."

That afternoon they sat in a comfortable silence, Alya with her head on Nino's chest, and Nino's arms wrapped around her.

As she drifted off, she began to think of when people would recognize her as a boy. Friend, boyfriend, blogger extraordinaire...

He was really looking forward to it.