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mintaka14 · 2 months

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Welcome to Chapter 9 of Living Arrangements, my Lukanette ML AU fanfic where they were roommates! Thank you for your patience, and now, sit back and hopefully enjoy:

Living Arrangements

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter 9 – Old Friends and Complications

'Cause she don't need umbrellas in a summer rain She could catch the eye of a hurricane in blue jeans and pearls

[I Met a Girl: William Michael Morgan]

The café that Adrien had suggested wasn’t one that Marinette was familiar with. She checked the address, and checked it again before she pushed open the doors. The café was full of hushed, business-like conversations going on over the soft clink of gleaming silverware and tasteful china.

A young woman around Marinette’s age in a starched black and white uniform greeted her with a bright, customer service smile.

“Welcome,” she said, “and how may I help you today?”

“I’m… uh, meeting someone here,” Marinette said a little uncertainly.

“Of course. Do you have a reservation with us today?”

“Sorry?”

“Your reservation. What name is it under?”

What kind of café needed a reservation?

“… Agreste,” she said, and the waitress’ smile grew more perfunctory. She glanced down at the appointment book in front of her.

“We do seem to have a booking today.” Her gaze swept over Marinette, and lightened as she seemed to reach a conclusion. “You must be here for an interview with Gabriel’s recruitment manager. She’s not here yet, but we’ve reserved the usual table -”

“Actually, I’m meeting Adrien Agreste,” Marinette tried to clarify. The customer service smile grew condescending.

“I’m afraid Adrien Agreste doesn’t usually meet with new hires in person. But you’re welcome to wait until Mlle Garamond arrives.”

“No, I –“

Before Marinette could finish trying to explain, the waitress had turned away to lead her to a reserved table. Marinette gave up the attempt. She shrugged herself out of her jacket, and draped it over the back of the chair, setting her bag beside her as she sat down.

Marinette could hear Tikki rustling around in her bag as she stashed it near her feet, and it was very distracting. Usually, Tikki was content to snuggle down, and maybe play a silent game or two on Marinette’s phone, but the kwami was oddly restless. The bag gave an odd little skip, and tipped over.

Marinette bent to straighten it, and whispered into her bag, “Is everything okay?”

Tikki blinked up at her, almost vibrating. “You’re going to see Adrien again,” she whispered back. “Are you okay?”

“Mademoiselle?” the waitress said from somewhere above her. Marinette’s head slammed into the underside of the table as she jerked upright. When she straightened, rubbing the aching back of her head, the waitress was regarding her with a raised eyebrow and a menu in her hand.

“Would you like to order anything, mademoiselle?”

Marinette fumbled her sketchbook out of her bag and held it up with a nervous little laugh.

"Just… doing a bit of work. I’ll wait for… I’ll wait, thanks.”

The waitress’ eyebrow climbed even higher, but she turned away without a word.

Marinette opened her sketchbook, sparing a grimace in response to Tikki’s wide-eyed look of sympathy from the depths of her bag, and started making notes to distract herself from the whispers and glances around her.

She flipped another page, losing herself in the movement of her pencil, and didn’t notice when the café door chimed and all the subdued conversations in the café seemed to pause for a moment.

A hand drew back the chair opposite her.

“You’re early. That doesn’t seem like the Marinette Dupain-Cheng I remember,” a voice said lightly, and Marinette looked up, startled, into Adrien Agreste’s famous smile.

“Oh my god,” the waitress gasped, sharp over the soft buzz of whispers and recognition that rippled through the café. “It really is Adrien Agreste!”

It was like a spotlight had been switched on, glinting on his golden hair and brilliant, photo-ready smile. Marinette’s practised eye for fashion design couldn’t help sweeping over the lines of the casual suit he was wearing that was anything but casual, and she would have bet that it cost more than her entire wardrobe. It did sit well on him, she had to admit, even if he did look as though a team of stylists had spent hours crafting the perfect look (Summer Catalogue, page five. Cool linens for that casual look, said a sarcastic little voice in her head that sounded like one of the kwamis, and she hastily silenced it).

Marinette blinked, and glanced away, half-expecting the flash of cameras to have followed him in, but all she saw was café patrons watching with varying degrees of avid attention, and the waitress with her wide eyes fixed on Adrien and all traces of supercilious boredom gone. The girl was practically trembling with speechless excitement, and Marinette felt like she was staring at her fourteen-year-old self. Marinette looked away, to find Adrien still smiling down at her, his hand resting on the back of his chair.

He still had that air of open guilelessness that she remembered from the boy she’d known before, but now, on the man he’d grown into, it felt as much of a curated image choice as his suit did.

“Well, we’ve both changed a bit in the last few years,” she said.

“You’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you. You’re looking well,” he said with unmistakable admiration in his voice as he sat down, and Marinette couldn’t help blushing furiously. Back in collège, something like that from Adrien would have reduced her to an incoherent mess. As it was, she dropped her eyes, focusing on the table for a moment.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed, though,” she admitted. “If I’d known what this place was like, I would have dressed up more. I think I’m the only one wearing jeans here.”

Adrien looked around in mild surprise. “I suppose you are. I know our recruitment manager likes to hold business meetings here because she likes the rhum baba, and I used to come here with Father sometimes when he met with private clients. I remember it as being good.”

The waitress had recovered from her starstruck paralysis, and rustled between the tables towards them with a couple of menus clutched in her hands.

Adrien turned his attention back to Marinette, his gaze raking over her as he said, “You might be the only one wearing jeans here, but no one else could make them look that good.”

“Adrien!” she sputtered, feeling her face burn.

Then he said, “You’re injeanious,” and his professional, perfect smile cracked into a shit-eating grin that was so unlike the Adrien she knew that for one wild second Marinette didn’t know how to respond. She stared at him, and tried to suppress the weird sound between a groan and a snort of laughter that escaped her as his words sank in.

Adrien’s grin grew wider.

“Was that meant to be a pun?” Marinette asked in disbelief. Since when did Adrien Agreste make puns? “That was terrible!”

The waitress flashed her a disparaging look, and then ignored her completely, as she breathed, “Adrien Agreste!” She thrust the menus at him. “I’m your waitress. I’m Josephine. What can I get you? Can I get you anything? Anything you want, just let me know...”

Adrien was still watching Marinette, with a hint of that grin lingering.

“Have you ordered yet?” he asked her. “What would you like? Coffee? Tea? Or they used to have a really good vin chaud here.”

Marinette had a memory of Luka in the kitchen that morning, smiling his slow, sweet smile as he handed her a mug, and his voice a little rough with lack of sleep as he asked, “Coffee, Melody?”

“Tea with lemon would be lovely, please,” she said. She wondered if she was actually going to get the tea. She wasn’t convinced the waitress had actually heard her.

“I’ll have a black coffee, thanks,” Adrien said, hitting the waitress with that dazzling smile.

Adrien settled back into his seat, and he waited until Josephine was gone, his eyes on Marinette. He seemed to be studying Marinette’s face as if he was looking for something, and she shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

“Your recruitment manager must come here a lot. The waitress was convinced that I was here for a job interview with Gabriel,” she said to break the awkward silence.

“Gabriel would be lucky to get you.”

Marinette couldn’t help the dismissive sound she made. “You don’t have to say that to be polite. You don’t even know if my work is any good.”

Adrien’s smile grew warmer. “Don’t forget, I’ve worn your designs. You got Father’s attention back in collège, and believe me, that’s not easy to do.”

“For a kids’ competition,” Marinette scoffed, feeling her cheeks heat up again. “That’s a long way off scoring a position at Gabriel, or any of the fashion houses for that matter.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Adrien shrugged, and glanced up to give the waitress a smile and a murmured thank you as she settled his cup of coffee in front of him and fussed with the placement of the teaspoon and petit fours beside it. “Alya showed me some of the photos from your showcase last year. This is your third year at IFM, isn’t it?”

Marinette nodded faintly.

Josephine slid a dish of tea in her direction. Marinette thanked her, and decided not to mention the absence of lemon. She lifted the dish to her lips and sipped the scalding tea carefully.

“So what are you planning to do after that?” Adrien asked, and Marinette responded, but she felt very aware of the waitress hovering around their table with carafes of water and cutlery they didn’t need. Marinette answered Adrien’s questions and talked self-consciously about her plans and possibilities, and tried to ignore that Josephine and half the café were likely listening to every word.

Adrien, on the other hand, seemed sublimely unconcerned by the surreptitious interest around them. He flashed Josephine a smile every time she topped up his already full glass of water, and he leaned in a little closer to ask Marinette about her fashion marketing classes when Josephine finally ran out of reasons to linger and retreated to the café counter.

He knew most of Marinette’s professors when she mentioned them, and when she told a story about one of the guest lecturers who had been particularly brutal, he laughed.

“I don’t know about that,” Adrien said, “but I do know that Father refuses to work with him again.”

Marinette leaned forward, and propped her chin in her hands.

“Father brought him in for a ready to wear line,” he went on, “and they fought over the whole thing from start to finish. Things really blew up, though, when the patterns went out to the manufacturer, and somehow no one spotted that some of the dimensions were out by a factor of ten.”

“No!” Marinette pressed her fingertips to her lips to suppress a horrified snort of laughter.

“Oh, yes. Father blamed Fabian, Fabian blamed my father, and I don’t know which one of them threw the bigger fit about it, but in the end Father threatened to have security fling Fabian into the street if he ever darkened our doors again.”

“The glamorous world of fashion,” Marinette giggled, and Adrien gave an exaggerated sigh.

“The things I’ve seen since I started working with my father.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing since you left Paris? Working at Gabriel?” she asked. “I mean, we know you’re still modelling, obviously –“ It would have been hard to miss - there were still billboards of him all over Paris, and every fashion magazine had him splashed all over the covers. Adrien pulled a wry face that didn’t make him look any less perfect.

“That wasn’t exactly my idea, but it’s good for Gabriel’s profile, according to Father’s PR gurus. And I’ve been shadowing Father in the company, learning more about the business side of things, since I passed the international bac.” He picked up the teaspoon beside his half-drunk coffee, turning it in his fingers.

“And now you’re back in Paris.”

“I’m back to stay,” he agreed.

“It’s good to have you home again,” Marinette said, and Adrien’s green eyes lit up at the polite sentiment. “It’s been too long since we’ve heard from you.”

“Yeah, I know I haven’t been that good at keeping in touch,” he said a little guiltily. “Things have been rather busy the past few years.”

“We were all a bit worried when you just left without a word, and even Nino didn’t know what the story was.”

“It was nothing that exciting,” he said, absently stirring a pattern in his coffee. “Father had been considering going to New York for a while, to oversee a few changes the company was planning to make there, and then… well, a few things happened, and we had to leave for New York pretty quickly. I wanted to say goodbye before we left, but Father didn’t really see any point…” Adrien trailed off, looking uncomfortable for the first time since he’d walked into the café, and Marinette was suddenly very conscious of all the surreptitious eyes watching them, and the ears listening. Over by the counter, Josephine had given up all pretence of doing anything but eavesdropping on their conversation.

Like they always did when Marinette was nervous, a jumble of words crowded into her mouth, and before she could stop herself, she found herself blurting out the first thing that came to her, “At least we knew you hadn’t been abducted by aliens or anything.”

Marinette cringed, but the discomfort in Adrien’s face disappeared. His eyes flicked up to hers with a startled look.

“Aliens?”

“When you left Paris, we knew you probably hadn’t been abducted by aliens, because you were all over the magazine covers, and we saw all the interviews you did,” she ploughed on, and then giggled. “Although Kim did come up with a whole deep fake theory for a while, until Max talked him out of it.”

Adrien stared at her. “I’m almost afraid to ask –“

“The board of directors put it out that you and your father had moved to New York so that no one would find out that they’d locked you both in the basement and replaced you with AI simulants,” she recited glibly.

Adrien’s startled laugh was loud enough to draw attention from everyone in the café. He glanced around apologetically, with that bright golden smile of his that melted all the disapproving looks into indulgent smiles, and he turned back to Marinette.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Why?”

Marinette was trying to keep a straight face herself as she told him, “Well, Kim couldn’t decide if it was because your father was about to announce a line of clothing so horrendous that it would destroy the company if they didn’t get rid of him, or if it was because he’d come up with a revolutionary new flipper shoe and had to be stopped before foreign agents could steal the designs and weaponise them.”

Adrien started laughing helplessly. “You’re so funny, Marinette.” His laugh faded. “I wish we’d been able to talk like this, the last few years. I’ve missed this,” he said, his green eyes meeting hers, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the boy who’d been so desperate for friends, for school, for something resembling a normal life. And he’d just disappeared one day without so much as a goodbye to any of them except Nino.

“We missed you, too,” Marinette told him gently. “I know Nino’s organising some sort of a collège reunion party while you’re in Paris.”

“No, I mean –“

“Can I refill your coffee for you?” Josephine asked, materialising beside them.

Adrien’s practised, brilliant smile switched on as he turned to glance up at the waitress hovering at his elbow with a coffee pot in her hand.

“No. No, thank you. I’ll be up all night if I have another coffee now, and I have a photoshoot at the crack of dawn tomorrow,” he said with a charming, self-deprecating roll of his eyes that had Josephine practically swooning. “Although your coffee is nearly worth risking Vincent yelling at me when I turn up with bags under my eyes.”

Josephine was still giggling as she backed away again.

Adrien glanced at Marinette’s empty tea cup once she’d gone. “She forgot your tea.”

“I think you have a fan there,” Marinette said quietly, and Adrien glanced behind him.

Josephine was on her way back to them before he’d even finished turning his head.

“Is everything alright?” she asked eagerly, the words tripping over themselves in a way that felt all too familiar to Marinette. “Can I get you anything?”

“My friend would like another cup of tea, if it’s not too much trouble,” he said.

“No, it’s okay,” Marinette protested, but neither of them seemed to hear her as Josephine spilled out apologies, and Adrien cut the waitress off with another smile.

“We really appreciate the way you’ve looked after us today,” he told her.

“I’m such a huge fan,” she blurted out, and Adrien’s smile grew brighter.

“And I’m so glad to have the support of fans like you, Josephine. I’d be happy to take a photo with you, if you have a camera handy,” he offered, and Josephine stammered out something before bolting hastily. She came back with a phone in her hand.

Adrien turned that smile on Marinette, one eyebrow lifting.

“Would you mind?” he asked her, and she took the phone while Adrien smiled at the camera and Josephine gazed up at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was real. Marinette handed back the phone.

“No one would have believed me, if I just told them I met Adrien Agreste,” Josephine sighed happily. “Thank you. I… thank you!” And she disappeared into the back of the café, clutching her phone as if it held something unspeakably precious.

“You still get a lot of that,” Marinette said, quietly enough that no one nearby could hear, as Adrien sat down again. His brilliant smile grew a little wry.

“I’m used to it. Remember the day we hid from that mob that chased us?”

“I remember.”

“It’s not uncommon, although that’s the only time I’ve hidden in a fountain to get away from them,” he teased.

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “I still can’t believe I did that.”

“Hey, it worked. They can be pretty persistent sometimes.”

“That’s why Luka dyed his hair and wears long sleeves when he goes out,” Marinette said, and reached for the empty teacup to hide the fond smile she could feel spreading across her face. She instantly felt silly for pretending to drink tea that clearly wasn’t there.

“Luka?” and Adrien’s brow creased at the unfamiliar name. “Who’s Luka?”

“He’s Juleka’s brother,” she explained, trying not to sound self-conscious. “I moved in with him and Juleka a few months ago.”

Adrien’s frown deepened. “Is he your –“

“Your tea!” Josephine interrupted brightly as she returned with a fresh, steaming cup, but her eyes were on Adrien.

A look of cold annoyance flashed across his face at the interruption, and for a moment the resemblance to his father was uncanny, then it vanished, wiped away by his habitual, charming smile, but Josephine’s hand jerked nervously and the teacup skittered in its saucer with a clatter of china as she put it down.

Marinette barely had time to feel second-hand cringe before the cup tipped, sending the tea spilling down the front of her blouse in a scalding splash. She couldn’t help the faint cry as hot liquid hit her blouse and soaked through the thin fabric, dripping in burning trails down her chest. She hunched over, trying to pull the blouse away from her skin.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Josephine gasped.

Marinette glanced up, her mouth open to respond, but the girl was staring at Adrien, her eyes wide in horror.

Adrien gave Josephine a reassuring smile.

“I’m such a klutz,” she was babbling. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot in front of Adrien Agreste.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “No harm done.”

Marinette glanced down at the spreading stain on her shirt. She had a sudden, unpleasant flash of memory – Adrien, in collège, telling her not to call out Lila’s lies because they weren’t hurting anyone – and she shifted uncomfortably, pushing the moment aside. The waitress wasn’t Lila, and hadn’t deliberately spilt the tea on Marinette.

“It’s fine,” Marinette said wearily. “Accidents happen, I know.”

And Marinette was rewarded with Adrien’s full-wattage smile, but she was too distracted to appreciate it. She took the napkin that Josephine was holding out vaguely in her direction, and patted at the damp brown spot without much success.

“I should go,” she sighed, dabbing at her shirt again. “Maybe if I get this in to soak quickly, I can get the stain out.”

She put down the napkin and reached for her bag, but Adrien stretched out a hand as if to hold her back.

“Oh, no, do you have to? It’s barely noticeable, and it’ll dry soon.”

He was right, it would dry quickly, but that was the problem. Once the stain was dry, it would set beyond much hope of repair. Maybe if she got some bicarb soda and detergent on it, she could still save it… Adrien was saying something.

“… I’m sure Josephine can bring you another cup of tea, and we can finish catching up.” That famous smile was still turned on her. “I’ll get you a new blouse, it’s the least I can do.”

Marinette didn’t mention that finding a replacement for this particular blouse would be impossible. Josephine was spilling out reassurances to Adrien that she’d replace the tea, bring petit fours on the house, anything he wanted, anything at all …

“It’s okay. I really do have to go,” Marinette apologised, and started to gather up her bag and her jacket, shrugging it on over her soaked blouse. She stuffed her phone into her bag, and rummaged around in the depths under the tangle of keys, tissues and pencils trying to find her wallet, until Tikki silently pushed it into her hand. “It was nice to catch up, though.”

She tugged her credit card out of her wallet, and held it out to the waitress to pay, but before Josephine could take it, Adrien had produced a sleek black visa card.

“Don’t worry about the bill,” he insisted. “There have to be some advantages to having a company credit card.”

“Adrien –“ she protested as Josephine froze, with her hand hovering between the two proffered cards. Her anxious gaze shifted from Adrien to Marinette and back again.

Rather than leave the poor girl stuck while she argued the point with Adrien, Marinette put her card back into her wallet, and stuffed it into her bag.

“Okay,” she gave in, “but next time is on me.”

His smile grew, as if he’d just scored a point. “It’s a deal. I’ll look forward to next time.”

When she brushed a quick bise against his cheek in farewell, Adrien seemed to lean in to it. His hand tightened briefly on her forearm.

“Until next time,” he told her, and Marinette hurried out the door of the café in a jangle of bells.

~~~~~

Luka was there when she got back to the apartment, stretched out on the couch and focused on his laptop.

“You’re home early,” he said, looking up as she came in, and gave her a smile that faded into a look of concern as he caught sight of her blouse. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s just a tea spill,” she tried to say lightly. “It’s not a big deal.”

He was still frowning, as if he wasn’t buying it, but all he said was, “Is there anything I can do? I’ve got to take a load of washing over to the Liberty later anyway –“

Marinette shook her head, and her own smile felt a little crooked. “It’s fine. I’m just going to try soaking it in the bathroom.”

She’d changed into an old t-shirt and was standing over the bathroom basin, anxiously eyeing the blouse soaking in cold water and working a bicarb and detergent paste into the tea stain, when her phone rang. Alya had obviously given up on waiting for a response to the increasingly peremptory string of texts that had been pinging on Marinette’s phone and had decided on the direct approach.

“Well?” Alya’s voice demanded. “Don’t keep me hanging here! How did it go?”

Marinette sighed, and stirred the blouse in the cloudy water. “Do you ever have the feeling you’re cursed?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Look, Alya, I’ve got to go finish washing this tea stain out.”

“What tea stain?” But Alya had obviously come to her own conclusions, and a sympathetic, if slightly impatient, laugh came through on the other end of the phone. “Girl, you’re hopeless. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Marinette found herself protesting to the sound of the dial tone. Alya must have been already on her way, because it wasn’t long before Marinette heard the doorbell ring. Nothing motivated Alya like the scent of gossip in the water.

The doorbell rang again impatiently, and she heard Luka getting to his feet. She wrung out the blouse to drape it over the towel rail. It would have to do.

She came into the living room just as Luka opened the door, and heard Alya asking him with studied casualness, “Hey, Luka. How’s it going?”

Alya followed Luka up the steps into the living room, and her uncomfortable defensiveness was obvious to Marinette as she came into view. Judging by the way the way Luka’s mouth twitched imperceptibly, it was obvious to him too.

“Not bad,” was all he said, amusement lurking in his voice. “And you?”

“Oh, good, I’m good.” There was an awkward pause. “If you’re not doing anything, you should come to Nino’s next gig on Friday,” she added abruptly, and Marinette suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the unspoken no hard feelings in Alya’s voice and posture. “You’d probably enjoy it, he’s really good.”

Luka’s easy expression didn’t change, but there was a gleam of humour in the depths of his blue eyes. “I’ll see if I’m free,” he said easily.

Alya abandoned the attempt at pleasantries as she caught sight of Marinette.

“Alright,” she demanded. “Spill. How did the date go?”

“Alya –“ Marinette sighed.

“I know, I know. Not a date. You were having coffee.”

“I didn’t get coffee - it was just a cup of tea,” Marinette protested, flicking a quick glance at Luka as she moved past the couch towards the kitchen, but he’d gone back to frowning at his laptop screen as if he hadn’t heard anything. “I didn’t even have anything to eat with it.”

“Oh-kay…” Alya said, giving her a bemused look and following on her heels. “Well, whatever it was, stop holding out on me and spill the details. What did he say? What did you say? I assume you can actually talk to him these days. And what was all that cryptic stuff about being cursed?”

At that, Luka shifted and got to his feet with a sigh. His eyes met Marinette’s, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a brief half-smile that didn’t give much away.

“This paper is giving me hell, so I’m going to go out for a walk, try to clear my head.” He reached for his coat draped over the back of the couch beside him. He shrugged himself into it, and glanced over his shoulder to tell Marinette, “The place is all yours for a few hours.”

“You don’t have to leave for us,” she protested, but he just gave her a quick smile, and headed down the steps, his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.

Alya watched him leave, and before the door had even closed properly behind him, she turned back to Marinette with a knowing smirk.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?”

“Who, Luka? Why on earth would he be jealous?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly want to hang around and hear all about your coffee date, did he?”

Marinette levelled a look at Alya. “Or he didn’t want to stay so you could be hostile at him again.”

“Hey, I was perfectly friendly! I invited him to Nino’s gig, didn’t I?” Alya protested. She followed Marinette back into the living room as Marinette scooped up her jacket from where she’d left by the door when she’d come home. “And of course he’s jealous. The guy looks at you like you’re his favourite snack - of course he’s jealous that you just spent the afternoon with Paris’ most famous supermodel and heir to the Agreste empire.”

Marinette stopped in the middle of folding her jacket, and turned to knit her brow at her best friend. Alya had said something at the bar the other night about the way Luka looked at Marinette, but she’d just dismissed that as too many cocktails and Alya reading too much into things.

“Paris’ very single supermodel,” Alya added slyly.

“Oh, but Adrien’s not single,” Marinette cut her off brightly, “not according to the Daily Mail – he’s in a very serious threesome with one of the British royals and that guy from last season’s I’m a Celebrity. And I know how you feel about the Daily Mail’s sources on these things.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Alya grumbled. “But I’m right about this. I know what I’ve seen with my own eyes. You can’t say that’s not reliable –“ Marinette chose not to respond to that “- and, since we’re talking reliable sources, I’d just like to point out that I know for a fact that the first thing that Adrien did when he got back to Paris was ask me and Nino for your number,” Alya pointed out triumphantly.

“Seriously, it was just catching up with an old friend from collège. I’m not even sure we have all that much in common anymore.”

“You’re both in fashion. You have that in common. You didn’t talk about that?”

“Well, yes, until I ended up with tea all down my blouse and I had to leave,” she said without meaning to, and Alya pounced on the hint of gossip.

“Is that why you were washing out tea stains when I called?” she demanded.

By the time Marinette gave in and told her the details, culminating in getting the cup of tea knocked all over her, Alya was chuckling.

“Oh, girl, only you!” Her laugh became a knowing smirk. “Still klutzing out around Adrien, huh? Nice to know some things never change.”

Marinette sighed. “It really wasn’t my fault this time.”

Alya waved away the protest. “Yeah, yeah, it was the waitress.”

Marinette scooped up her bag, which she’d left by the stairs when she’d come home, and stole a quick look to check that Tikki had managed to sneak away to the bedroom. An odd smell of cheese wafted up from her bag, and she wrinkled her nose. What on earth had Tikki been eating in there? She’d have to clean it later… and all thoughts of weird smells got left aside as she realised what definitely wasn’t in her bag. Marinette scuffled through the mess with increasing agitation while Alya kept talking.

“- and Nino’s planning to throw that reunion party for Adrien, so -” Alya broke off when Marinette upended everything onto the couch. “Jeez, Marinette, what’s up? Lost your phone or something?”

“Worse,” Marinette muttered, focused on the assorted junk on the couch. Her lipstick, her spare pens, her wallet, the sheaf of course notes from three days ago were all there, but there was no sign of the one thing she really needed. “My sketchbook. I must have left it at the café –“

That was the last time she knew she’d seen it. She’d been sketching out ideas while she’d waited, and then Adrien had turned up and she’d –

Alya laughed, and said, “Well, isn’t that just the perfect excuse to see Adrien again. Maybe he picked it up for you.”

Marinette glared at her. “Alya, this is serious! That book has all my notes, my sketches for the finals, everything.”

Alya scooped Marinette’s phone up from the litter on the couch, and held it out to her.

“So just call him,” she insisted with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not a big deal, and at least you’ll know if he’s got your sketchbook or not. If he hasn’t got it, then you can panic.”

And, sure enough, there was a message from Adrien that she’d missed while she was washing her blouse, in the middle of Alya’s texts. Marinette ignored Alya’s questioning eyebrow, and tapped out a quick response that had an answer within seconds of hitting send.

“He has it,” she said as she put aside her phone. “I can pick it up tomorrow.”

“And you have another date with Adrien,” Alya said on a note of satisfaction.

“It’s –“

“Not a date,” Alya chimed in, rolling her eyes again.

She didn’t stay long after that, and Marinette was left pacing the apartment, feeling twitchy and unsettled. Between Alya getting into her head about Luka, and a growing feeling of anxiety when her thoughts swung round to her sketchbook and having to go the Gabriel offices the next day to get it back from Adrien, it took her longer than it should have to realise that the noise when she pushed open her bedroom door wasn’t just a manifestation of the agitation in her head.

Tikki was flitting around with unusual energy, and there seemed to be an escalating argument going on. None of the kwamis noticed Marinette.

“There’s sssomething he’ss keeping to himssself. I don’t like thisss at all,” Sass hissed, swaying over the coil of his tail, as Tikki zipped past his head.

“I’m staying out of it,” Roarr yawned, “but I agree with Sass. Something doesn’t smell right.”

“That would be the cheese,” one of the kwamis snickered.

A tiny rubber banana ricocheted off Roarr’s head, and she bared her fangs, snarling at Xuppu as he drew back his arm to launch another one. The second banana caught Roarr between the eyes, and the monkey kwami bounced out of reach as Roarr’s snarl became a low, warning growl.

“I’m sure he’ll be looking for an opportunity to see me again, and fill me in,” Tikki said defensively, just as Fluff tumbled out of the air to land on Marinette’s bed, startling the kwamis clustered there.

“Trussst you to make excussses for him.”

“A tale as old as time,” Fluff announced out of nowhere, “and I should know.”

The little rabbit somersaulted over the edge of the bed, and vanished again. Sass’s forked tongue flickered.

“Sssome people don’t deserve the sssecond chancesss they’ve been given,” he hissed. “And I should know.”

“That was not his fault, and you know that, too. He didn’t have any choice about leaving us-“

“Much asss that cheesemonger itchesss my fangss, I wasssn’t talking about -”

“What on earth is going on?” Marinette finally managed to make herself heard over the rising noise, and everything went quiet. Tikki whipped around guiltily. Marinette eyed the hovering kwami for a long moment, and glanced at Sass on the window sill. His tail was still flicking against the painted wood with an agitation that she’d never seen in him before.

“Does anyone want to explain what’s going on here?”

Before anyone else could answer, Tikki swooped through the air to hover in front of her face.

“It was nothing,” Tikki insisted, her big eyes going wide with an unconvincing innocence. “Just a small disagreement.”

“Who were you talking about?” Marinette asked, directing the question past Tikki at the snake kwami, but Tikki whirled around to intercept Marinette’s attention before Sass could answer.

“We should go out. How long has it been since you transformed? It would be good for you – you’ve been so wound up since we got home,” Tikki suggested, as if she hadn’t just been doing manic little spirals in the air. “You could use a bit of fresh air. You really shouldn’t let yourself get out of practice.”

“Becaussse that’sss what we ssshould be focusssed on right now,” Sass said caustically, and Tikki whirled around to face him, glaring.

Their voices rose, and the other kwamis threw in opinions and unhelpful, inflammatory comments that escalated until the room was full of shouting and Marinette had to clap her hands over her ears. She felt a sudden spike of panic at the thought of what would happen if Luka got back before she could get the kwamis calmed down. There was no way Marinette would be able to explain away the noise that they were all making.

“Enough!” she finally shouted over the top of them, glaring around the room as she flipped her hair back to touch her miraculous earrings. “Do you want Luka or Juleka to walk in on all this? You and me, Tikki, we’re going out, and when we get back we’re all going to have a nice, calm discussion about this that doesn’t involve the neighbours calling the police on me, or having to lie to my roommates, or bananas,” she added sternly as she caught sight of Xuppu out of the corner of her eye, just as he drew his arm back to throw something.

The little monkey hid whatever it was behind his back, and gave Marinette a sheepish grin as she transformed.

At least the streets of Paris felt quieter than her room had, once she swung out over the rooftops. It was good to feel the wind in her face, and focus on the adrenaline rush of every leap, on the way her heart rate sped up in a steady rhythm and her mind moved sharp and fast across the rooftops ahead. Tikki was right about one thing, even if she’d only suggested it to avoid answering Marinette – it had been far too long since she’d gone for a run as Ladybug.

It was an uneventful night down below her in Paris, and things had calmed down in her bedroom by the time Marinette finally landed back through the window. Most of the kwamis had vanished into their various corners and nests, but Sass reared up his head as she came in. The tip of his tail was twitching.

“Did you sssee anyone interesssting?” he asked Tikki, a trace of acid in his tone. She huffed, and flitted away to sulk without answering the question or staying to continue the argument that had started it all.

Marinette eyed Sass.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asked.

The little snake turned a thoughtful look in the direction of Tikki’s nest, and said, “Jussst an old argument among usss kwamisss.”

Marinette stared at him, and Sass stared back at her, unblinking. He added slyly, “I hear Luka’ss back.”

As distractions went, it was a pretty effective one, and Marinette also took his subtle reminder that they weren’t alone in the apartment. Even so, she thought for a moment about pushing harder, but when Sass flicked a meaningful glance in the direction of the shelves, she gave up on getting a straight answer from him with all the kwamis listening in from their various hidey-holes and perches, not when it might start off another noisy disruption.

Instead, she listened for the soft sounds that meant that Luka was home again, and working in the living room. She reached for her bedroom door without conscious thought, her suspicions and concerns about the kwamis’ moods temporarily put aside.

Luka had his guitar on his lap, and pages of music scattered like snow-drifts all over the floor. There was an unfamiliar stringed instrument lying on the couch beside him. He was scribbling something on the stack of manuscript, and then let it flutter to the floor to join the other marked pages piling up around him.

The lamp shone on his blue-dyed hair, filtering through the rumpled strands like sunlight falling through deep water, and Marinette was tempted to reach out and tangle her fingers in the soft strands. She wished she could work out how to recreate that effect in fabric. Maybe a watered silk, hand-dyed, if she could get the right blend of shades…

She only realised she’d been lost in staring at him when Luka sighed and straightened, and caught sight of her. Bedroom eyes, Alya’s voice whispered slyly in the back of her mind, and Marinette could feel a blush burning her cheeks. He gave her a soft smile, which didn’t help at all.

“Sorry, was I disturbing you?” he asked quietly, and she shook her head. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Just after midnight,” she said just as quietly.

“That explains why my hand’s so sore, then.” He sighed, and massaged his wrist. When Marinette came further into the room, he shifted a few loose pages out of the way so she could curl up in her usual place beside him on the couch, but she hesitated, suddenly very aware of just how close it would put them. She silently cursed her best friend for getting into her head, leaving her searching for signs of something more in the slow, sweet smile he always gave her.

When she hesitated a little too long, his smile became a question, and she made herself relax into the space beside him.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask before - how did things go catching up with your friend this afternoon?” he asked, and Marinette filled him in on the whole afternoon. She couldn’t help a soft huff of a laugh when she got to the spilled tea.

“The waitress was so busy trying to impress Adrien that by the end of it she’d forgotten I was even there, she was so busy apologising to him –“

“Wait, she was apologising to him, not you?” Luka interjected.

“Well, I get it. I did far stupider things when I was trying to get his attention back in collège.”

Luka’s brow creased, but all he said was, “Did you manage to get the stain out?”

“Mostly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wear it again, though…” she trailed off in thought. “Unless, maybe, I can embroider it, or add something…”

She pulled herself back before she could get too side-tracked by creative solutions, but Luka’s frown had melted into a fond smile as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and didn’t mind at all that her attention had wandered.

She found herself feeling self-conscious again as their eyes met, but there was nothing in the way he was looking at her that she hadn’t seen in the smiles he gave his sister, his mother, or any of the small handful of people he really cared about, and she ignored the tiny pang of disappointment at the thought.

She tilted her head towards the drifts of paper around him. “So what’s keeping you up tonight?” she asked. “Have you got an assignment giving you a hard time?”

He gave the abandoned instrument on his other side a rueful look. “I’m supposed to be practising for my world music performance assessment in November, but I keep getting distracted. I’ve missed writing music for so long, it’s hard to ignore the inspiration when it happens.”

“That’s some pretty powerful inspiration,” she teased him.

“Yeah,” he said, setting his hands on the strings of his guitar again, and picking out a soft, slow run of notes. “It’s pretty irresistible.”

He dipped his head over his guitar. The fall of his hair hid his eyes for a moment, but the light of the lamp cast a warm heat across his cheekbones that almost looked like a blush.

“This is a side of you that I haven’t seen before,” Marinette said without thinking, and he raised his head to give her a look of mild curiosity. She ploughed on, “I mean, I knew you were talented, I love listening to you when you play or sing, but I’ve never seen you so…”

“So?” he prompted gently when she trailed off.

“In your element. It’s really –“ hot, a suggestive little voice in her mind provided, and she tried to ignore it “- good to see.”

His mouth quirked up. “Now you know how I feel, watching you in action.” His fingers plucked out a fragment of a tune that Marinette had never heard before.

“All of the warp and the weft the world sends her, she gathers them into her hands,” he sang softly, “and sees something beautiful, sews something beautiful, out of whatever the world sends her way…”

Luka glanced up from his guitar, and there was something intense in those deep blue eyes, dark as the ocean, focused on her.

This was…

…oh.

Surely there was no mistaking that look in his eyes.

A profound thrill shivered through her. Marinette could feel the heat rising through her, leaving every inch of her burning and tingling, and there was an electric moment when it felt like he might finally lean in, close that distance, and kiss her.

Marinette’s breath caught at the thought.

The moment broke with the soft sound. Luka shifted, putting aside his guitar. He got to his feet, and stretched.

“Is it too late for a coffee?” he asked, and Marinette blinked. “I think I need some more caffeine.”

~~~~~

The soft, startled intake of her breath brought Luka back to the moment, and Marinette staring up at him through the dark fringe of her lashes, her beautiful blue eyes wide and overwhelmed.

Luka set aside his guitar and stood up, saying something as casually as he could manage about getting coffee, to give her some space.

There was a moment’s hesitation, then Marinette got up and followed him into the kitchen, and he knew a strong flash of relief that at least he hadn’t freaked her out too badly with the intensity of what he was feeling, and what had poured into that brief snatch of the song she’d inspired. Jules had always said he could be a little much when the muse took hold of him.

She watched while he started the kettle and got a couple of mugs out. “You’re going to be up all night,” she told him.

“Yeah, I don’t think sleep is on the cards tonight,” he said ruefully, and he glanced down at Marinette, hoping his face didn’t give away the heat and want flooding through him. “Did you want anything? Assuming you’re not over hot drinks by now,” he joked gently.

“I’d better stick to a decaf, if you’re offering. And it was tea, not coffee,” she pointed out. “Coffee stains would have been easier to get out.”

“Really? Interesting – I would have thought that tea stained less.”

She was shaking her head authoritatively, the intense moment between them dissipating under the kitchen light. “More mess to start with, but the tannin marks are worse. I’ve had a lot of experience with spilling stuff on myself.” The air of exasperation that went with that statement was adorable, and Luka hid a smile.

He dropped a scoop of ground beans into the filter pot and poured the boiling water over it, and then turned to get the rarely used jar of decaf instant coffee out of the cupboard. Marinette giggled at the face he pulled as he put a spoonful of granules in her mug and topped it up from the kettle before handing it to her. The smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen, and he leaned his forearms on the counter across from Marinette while he waited for his to be ready.

“Sounds like you should stick to drinking water, next time you’re on a date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” she repeated, her expression becoming a little disgruntled. “It was just coffee with an old school friend.”

“Where you didn’t drink any coffee,” he couldn’t help teasing her, happy to see the disgruntlement vanish as she pulled a face at him. Her eyes dropped to focus on the mug in her hands, and an odd little quirk caught the corner of her mouth.

“You’ve spoiled me for anyone else’s coffee,” she said without looking up.

He didn’t dare hope that she meant it as anything more than a joke, but he couldn’t help the stupid grin that he hid behind his own mug. He raised it to take another swallow, and stopped, caught by a stray wisp of music.

There was something in that… He found his fingers tapping the cadence against the side of his mug, the riff that would go with them playing as clear as a bell in his mind, and he groped blindly for something to write them down.

Marinette must have understood the sudden mood that gripped him, because she silently pushed the shopping list towards him and handed him a pen. Luka scribbled down the random line of music in his head, the potential lyrics scrawled under the reminder to get eggs and milk that was already there, and Marinette giggled.

~~~~~

Marinette rinsed out her mug, and left Luka to his music. She knew, from her own experience, that he would be consumed by the creative fit that had overtaken him for the rest of the night, and she took her pyjamas into the bathroom to change and brush her teeth. He was still bent over the lyrics that he’d begun on their shopping list when she passed him on her way to bed, and she smiled to herself as she closed her bedroom door behind her.

In the darkness, she could hear the kwamis, the soft little snorts and noises that meant they were asleep, and she climbed into bed without turning the light on so she wouldn’t disturb them. Only Sass’ golden, slitted eyes gleamed in the shadows, watchful and awake.

“Sass?” she whispered, and those eyes turned her way.

“Yesss, Marinette?”

“Are you going to tell me who you were talking about this afternoon? I need to know if there’s a problem.” She couldn’t help feeling a little hurt, couldn’t help the small mutter that slipped out, “I thought you could trust me.”

There was a long silence, as if Sass was weighing his words, then he said quietly, “You are our Guardian, our Ladybug, and our friend… but you know, better than mossst, that sssome sssecrets are not oursss to tell.”

There was an even longer silence, and Marinette stared up into the dark shadows of her ceiling.

“What I will sssay,” came the soft hiss in the gloom, “isss that you are a truly inssspiring Ladybug, but never forget that Ladybug iss jusst a pale reflection of who Marinette isss.”

Sass’ observation seemed completely off the subject, but Marinette knew the snake kwami well enough to know that in his own way, he was answering the question she’d asked. She frowned as she tried to puzzle out his meaning through a growing fog of exhaustion.

“Trussst your insstinctsss… and trussst in thossse friendsss who make you more Marinette, not lessss.”

Marinette found herself turning her head to glance at the dark form of the mannequin with Luka’s half-finished coat pinned to it. The beading on it caught a stray hint of street light through a gap in the curtains, and gleamed like a smile in deep blue eyes.

“Funny,” she murmured drowsily. “Luka said something like that the other day - asked me if I’d really want to love someone who would want me to be less.”

There was a quiet, sibilant chuckle in the darkness. “I alwaysss sssaid your musssician wass a wissse sssoul.”

Her musician. Oh, she wanted him to be.

And maybe, just maybe… if she hadn’t read too much into that moment on the couch… maybe he wanted that too.

“Sssleep, missstressss,” the soft voice whispered. “We will not let you ssstand alone again, I ssswear it. Sssleep now, and dream sssweet dreamsss.”

~~~~~

“So, it turns out Marinette’s still a complete space case around Adrien,” Alya said in fond exasperation, and she finally had Lila’s full attention. She’d been starting to think that Lila wasn’t listening to a word she was saying, and the way Lila was tapping her fingernails on the tabletop was getting a bit annoying.

“What happened?” Lila asked, pausing her persistent tapping for a moment, and Alya filled her in on Marinette’s coffee date with Adrien.

“Although she swears it wasn’t a date,” Alya added, with an amused roll of her eyes. “And then, of course, she ended up with tea all over her, and had to leave early, but at least that worked in her favour for once – she was so distracted, she ended up leaving her sketchbook behind, and Adrien picked it up for her. So she’s meeting up with him again today to get it back.”

“Clever,” Lila murmured, in an odd, flat tone.

Alya snorted at that. “Oh, come on, romantic scheming has never been one of Marinette’s strong points, you know that.”

“She always did have a thing for celebrities,” Lila said a little sourly, almost as if she’d forgotten that Alya was there, and started to drum her nails on the table again.

“She always had a thing for Adrien,” Alya snapped back, her hands going to her hips. It was one thing when she teased Marinette about falling for famous hot guys, but Lila didn’t quite sound like she was joking. “What’s with you, Lila? You’re not upset about Marinette and Adrien, are you? I mean, you were the one who broke it off when you were dating Adrien, and that was years ago.”

There was a long pause, broken only by the irritating sound of Lila’s nails.

“No, Marinette and Adrien deserve each other,” Lila said, still with that sour note in her voice, but then she met Alya’s frown and gave her a wide smile. Alya beamed back in relief.

She should have known that Lila wouldn’t be so petty as to begrudge Marinette a chance at happiness with Adrien. And, after all, it had to be a little weird for her, after the way she’d said Gabriel Agreste had fired her as his model and blacklisted her when she’d broken up with Adrien.

Lila stopped drumming her nails. Her smile grew wider. “Of course, they’re perfect for each other, much more than someone like Luke Stone.”

And of course, they were. An up and coming talented young fashion designer, and a supermodel whose father was the founder of one of Paris’ most prestigious fashion houses? They were made for each other.

“We should go get her for a girls’ night out tonight,” Lila was saying. “Find out how things went with Adrien. She lives near here, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alya vetoed firmly. “She’s not exactly your biggest fan, and things didn’t go well at the bar the other night – you know how stubborn Mari can be sometimes.” She made a sympathetic face, but Lila was frowning into space and didn’t seem to notice. “And anyway, I promised her I wouldn’t interfere in her love life.”

“So you’re just going to let her throw away her second chance with Adrien and get sucked in by someone like Luke Stone?”

Alya could understand Lila’s frustration, but she knew Marinette best.

“I think we just need to let Marinette see it for herself at this point. And maybe Luka’s not as bad as all that.”

Luka’s air of mild amusement might irritate Alya, and all the more so because she had the deep-seated feeling that he was amused by her, but she was big enough to admit that he’d been a perfect gentleman to Marinette since they’d moved in together.

“Those tabloid reports can’t all be true,” Alya told Lila, “and maybe he’s settled down since you knew him.” Maybe Marinette had settled him down. He certainly looked at her as if he was completely besotted.

Judging by the way Lila pursed her lips, she didn’t agree, but Alya knew this was for the best.

“Besides,” Alya went on, thinking of how keen Adrien had sounded when he’d asked her for Marinette’s phone number, and a touch of smugness crept into her voice, “I don’t think we’re going to have to do anything.”

#lukanette #pro lukamari #living arrangements #ml au #miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #and they were roommates #they're idiots your honor #bring on the drama!

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 10 months

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Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe

Ch16 Juleka vs. the Forces of Alya Césaire

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

There are a couple of people I need to thank for this chapter.

First of all, a big thank you to @mintaka14, for letting me borrow Roarr's name for makeup from Living Arrangements (It's such a good read and I highly recommend it).

And a huge thank you to @verfound for helping me through the crisis of confidence this chapter gave me, and for beating some sense into me (with love and giggles as you pointed out all my dumb typos 😂). I would still be spinning myself in circles if it weren't for you, so thank you for beta reading this!!! 💖💖💖💖 And for letting Dingo and Bri stay when they insistent on being mentioned in this chapter 😂

Finally, a huge thank you to all of you for the ongoing support and kindness. It really means so much to me, and I can't thank you enough.

A little bit of house keeping now. The next chapter is likely going to take quite a bit of time, especially because I have bits and pieces of it written and it always takes longer to write a chapter that already has pieces I need to integrate in.

Also, I'm issuing a content warning for this chapter. Juleka's anxiety is very prevalent in this chapter. I don't describe it in detail, but it is present in the majority of the chapter. Please use your best judgement when deciding if this is something you're comfortable with. I would much rather you take care of yourself and skip a chapter than read something that might upset or trigger you. 💖

With all of the being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!!! 💖💖💖💖

__________________________________________________

The classroom was warm, just shy of uncomfortably so. And Bustier’s voice was nothing but cloying white noise; she had no idea what her teacher had been droning on about for the past half hour, and she sincerely doubted anyone else did either.

All of their year end tests were written and done. Their projects submitted. Their lockers mostly cleared out.

Now all that was left to do was make it to the end of the second last day of classes.

Sleepily, she blinked her eyes and let her attention wander to the rest of the class. It seemed they were all paying as much attention to Bustier as she was. Ivan was drumming out a beat on his desk with his fingers, bopping his head along to the nearly indecipherable sound. Alix was leaning back in her seat, and was barely making an effort to hide the fact that she was playing on her phone. Kim was out cold, and Max and Markov were reading something on Max’s phone. Nathaniel was drawing, and beside her, Rose was doodling.

She let out a sleepy sigh as her gaze drifted towards the front of the classroom. Chloe and Sabrina’s seats were empty; apparently they were skipping again. It wasn’t like they were missing much. She propped her cheek in her hand as her gaze travelled across the aisle.

Adrien had been in a funk all day. He had tried to hide it, but little cracks in his facade had let it shine through. But it seemed everyone had assumed it was because the school year was almost over, and he wouldn’t see them every day anymore. At lunch, most of the class had tried to console him, assuring him that when he wasn’t busy or travelling over the summer that they would all hang out and that they would call and text. Maybe that was contributing to his funk. But given the argument he had had with Ladybug last night… well, her money was on that.

She was still on edge from last night.

And given the look Chat had given her last night… In all honesty, they were just lucky Shadowmoth needed time to recharge between akumas. That, and that—according to Roarr—wearing a miraculous provided some protection against akumatization. Otherwise…

Well, they were all lucky they were just dealing with a moping classmate. That, and…

Marinette had been uncharacteristically quiet today. Her mind had very obviously been elsewhere for most of the day. She assumed everything that had gone down last night was what had Marinette so preoccupied. Pensive even.

During morning break, after Marinette and Nathaniel had gone to the art room to discuss some costume ideas for the comic with Marc, when she had been coming back from the washroom she had overheard Alya telling the rest of the girls Marinette was obviously thinking about summer break and Adrien.

She turned her attention to Alya and Nino.

They were very obviously texting each other. Which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly uncommon. Or something to be suspicious about. But considering the way Alya had been acting the past couple of weeks…

That, and every so often, Nino would sneak a glance back at her.

Well, sneak was being generous… It was obvious he was either trying to be subtle, or that he thought he was being subtle. Either way, he wasn’t. M. Damocles always gave her grief about her hair, asking her how she could see with her hair covering half her face. What he—and many people for that matter—seemed to forget was that hair was hardly a brick wall. Sure, it obscured her vision a bit. But she could see through her hair well enough to see Nino glancing back at her over his shoulder every time he thought she wasn’t looking. Just like she saw Alya kick the back of his bench every time she caught him looking back at her.

Really, it was a wonder Bustier hadn’t noticed what was going on.

Honestly, she had to wonder if Bustier had noticed her class wasn’t paying attention and was letting it slide, or if she actually was that oblivious.

She stifled a yawn as she directed her gaze to the clock. The time was crawling by. She could swear that clock had said twenty after three for the past half hour.

Sighing, she dragged her gaze away from the clock. It seemed a watched clock didn’t move anyways….

Her frown returned as her eyes settled on Adrien once again.

The past few weeks had been hard, having to be civil to Adrien in class when she knew he was Chat. When he was making her life a headache with his constant whining and tantrums. But coming into class this morning… it had been really hard to act normally towards him. Thankfully, he never really interacted with her all that much anyways, but he hadgreeter her along with the rest of the class when she had come in.

And she had done her best.

She really had.

But she had maybe been a little… cool with her greeting. Which was frankly way more than he deserved. The good thing about being quiet was that people generally didn’t take note when she was extra quiet, and they didn’t tend to pick up on the nuances of her voice. Rose would have, and so would Marinette. But neither of them had been there when she had entered the room. So no one had really seemed to notice.

Except…

Alya’s eyes had narrowed as soon as she had mumbled her reply to Adrien. It was hard to tell if Alya knew she had seen the way her eyes had narrowed, given she had caught it out of the corner of her eye herself. But she knew she hadn’t imagined it, because as soon as she did look directly at Alya, her expression had shifted into a casual smile.

But she had felt eyes on her as she had made her way back to her seat.

She didn’t like it. All the hidden looks and glances from Alya. Coupled with those messages- the curt and deleted ones, And the pushiness and insistence on her voicing her support for the schemes…

It was weird.

But Nino…

She cast a surreptitious glance down at Nino. He quickly turned away, his hat slipping with the movement. Subtle indeed. He couldn’t have been more blatant if he had tried.

As weird as Alya had been the past couple of weeks…well, it was even weirder coming from him.

She sighed. There was no real point in dwelling on it though. Alya… she didn’t like to think about it, but Alya was definitely getting suspicious. That was the only explanation- though if Alya was suspicious, why was she still insisting on her helping with the schemes?

It didn’t make sense.

Regardless, if Alya was suspicious, well, it was safe to assume she had shared her suspicions with Nino.

This… complicated things.

She would need to be even more careful going forward.

Sighing to herself, she folded her arms on her desk and rested her chin on them. At least, if she was deep in thought, she would look like she was paying attention if Bustier clued in to the fact her lesson was going unheard.

***

They were gathered at the base of the front steps to the school, a little off to the side so as not to end up trampled by the steady stream of students emerging from the building, clearly excited by the prospect of only one day left in the school year.

“And you’re sure you don’t have time for ice cream?” Alya wheedled. “I can text Nino. He and the guys were going to shoot some hoops, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a change of plans. You know Adrien loves Andre’s ice cream.”

She had to fight to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

Even if that particular ploy was weak by Alya’s standards, Alya was never one to miss an opportunity…

Marinette shook her head, and she could have sworn she caught sight of her rolling her eyes… “No, I need to head home. I still need to finish my dress.”

“Are you going to finish in time?” Mylène asked worriedly.

Marinette nodded. “It’ll probably be cutting it a bit close, but I’ll have it done.”

“I can wait to see it,” Rose sighed dreamily, “I can’t even imagine what you’ve cooked up this time!”

“Neither can I,” Alya agreed. “And it doesn’t help that my bestie won’t even give me a sneak peek,” Alya added in a playfully pointed voice.

Marinette let out a semi-exasperated sigh. “I told you, it isn’t ready to be seen yet. Besides, you’ll all see it tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine. But you can’t blame a girl for trying,” Alya laughed. “But you’re going to look amazing, I just know Adrien won’t be able to take his eyes off of you!”

Marinette’s smile faltered for a second at Alya’s words, before returning. But it was tighter than before. Less genuine.

“I’m just looking forward to wearing it,” Marinette said noncommittally.

“I sure hope so, given how much time you’ve been spending on it. You missed one heck of a race last weekend. You should have seen how close-”

“I’m sure there will be plenty more races for Marinette to watch,” Mylène said, gently cutting Alix off before she could get too far into regaling them with every detail of the race. Again.

“When’s the next one?”

“Third day of break,” Alix grinned, “We both figured we would want to sleep in after the dance and Max has a dentist appointment the second day of break.”

“I think that should work! We could do a picnic?’

“A victory picnic, I like it!”

“You haven’t won yet,” she mumbled with a chuckle.

Alix stuck her tongue out at her. “Yet.”

“Anyways, I should get going…” Marinette said, taking an awkward little half-step back. “The dress won’t finish itself after all.”

“Of course. Text if you need anything?” she asked.

“Or if you’re bored!” Rose added as she stepped in to hug Marinette as well.

“I will,” Marinette promised; there was a hint of laughter in her voice. She may have have been responding to Rose… but Marinette’s eyes were on her. With a smile, Marinette stepped forward and hugged her goodbye.

Over Marinette’s head, she caught what looked like a frown flickering across Alya’s face. But then Marinette was pulling away, and once she had stepped back out of the hug, the look on Alya’s face was gone.

Once all the goodbye hugs were exchanged, and Marinette was out of sight, Alya turned to the rest of them. “Ok, since ice cream was a bust, we can head straight to my place. It’s probably a good thing anyways, we have lots to get through.”

She fell into step with the rest of the group as they made their way towards Alya’s place, though she lagged a little behind Alya, Alix, and Mylène. As they made their way through the streets, Alya began going through a list of things they would need to prepare for one of the many plans they had cooked up for tomorrow.

Because of course it couldn’t just be one plan.

Alya had insisted that they plan multiple schemes.

Each of which, of course, had a ridiculous name.

“So for phase ‘Belle of the Ball,’ we’ll need to make sure…” She only listened with half an ear as she followed along behind the rest of the girls. They had spent the past two weeks cooking up all of these plots, she knew them like the back of her own hand. They all did, as Alix had pointed out when protesting to this last scheming session.

But Alya had insisted.

As Alya had pointed out—while casting a glance in her direction—something always went wrong with the plans. And that meant they had to be ready.

Under other circumstances—before she had found herself going toe to toe with Alya—she found Alya’s tenacity and determination admirable. She was bold and willing to do whatever it took to reach her goals. She was the very definition of if at first you don’t succeed…

The thing was, she couldn’t help but wonder… it wasn’t just that Alya’s scheming was bad for Marinette… at times… most of the time, the more she thought about it… it felt like it was bad for Alya.

Alya was tenacious. Determined. Though some people might say headstrong or even pig-headed. Alya wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted. And, despite what her actions may have screamed, she cared about her friends’ happiness.

The problem was, Alya had something of a tunnel vision problem. She was so fixated on the idea of Marinette liking Adrien that she couldn’t—or maybe wouldn’t—acknowledge the fact that Marinette had moved on. Just like how she was so caught up in the pursuit of Ladybug’s identity, and the idea of Ladybug and Chat Noir being destined soulmates that she couldn’t see what was staring her straight in the face.

“You ok?” Rose’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. She looked down at Rose, who had fallen into step beside her. “You looked far away,” Rose said as she slipped her hand into hers.

“Yeah,” she tried to muster a smile. The feeling of Rose’s hand in hers made it much easier, despite the dour thoughts clouding her mind. “Just thinking,” she said as she laced her fingers with Rose’s.

***

She sat in silence as Alya stuck a pin into another colour-coded scrap of paper to fix it to her cork board. The cork board was covered in a rainbow of scraps of paper, each colour indicating a different person, with the scheme name, details, and phase number outlined on them.

It was a technicolour disaster.

And the more of the schemes—which were all phases in the ‘Operation Fairytale Ball’ plot—Alya added to the board, the more she could feel a headache brewing.

It was honestly impressive how Alya managed to keep track of all the details of the various schemes and plots. If journalism didn’t work out for her, Alya had a bright future in tactical mission planning ahead of her.

“…so then when he sees the punch ladle is missing, he’ll have to ask her where the spare ones are. And then when she offers to go, Rose, you mention we need more napkins too and suggest Adrien help her.”

Rose made a sound of agreement, not looking up from the plethora of nail polish bottles she had spread out on the floor in front of her.

“And then Juleka, while they’re gone, you’ll find Luka and keep him busy. By the time they get back, we’ll be ready for Phase: Glass Slipper.” Alya finally peeled her gaze away from the cork board to stare at her. Hard. “You’ll be able to do that, right?” There was a challenge in the way Alya was staring at her. It was almost like… like she was testing her.

“It’s a plan,” she murmured. It was a plan. A terrible one. One she had no intention of carrying out. But it was a plan.

Alya’s eyes hardened at her words. She had been careful to phrase it as the truth. Well, a half-truth. The words were true. But the intention behind them had been a lie.

And Alya did not look satisfied: her eyes were hard and narrowed behind her glasses.

Alya opened her mouth to say something, but Mylène of all people interrupted her. “And that’s where the faux flowers come in, right? And what flowers were you thinking?”

She could have answered those questions: yes and red roses. Because they symbolized ‘true love.’

At least all the other colours of roses hadn’t been ruined for her…

Alya shot her one last look before turning to Mylène. “We need red roses; they’re the most romantic flowers. And yeah, once they come back they’ll…”

She fought back a frown as best she could as Alya launched into going over every excruciating detail of the next phase of the operation.

After the countless hours they had spent cooking up and reviewing these schemes, how could Mylène not remember the flowers? The flowers she was in charge of?

She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. But as Alya continued on her tirade of the operation, her mind couldn’t help but wander.

And it seemed she wasn’t the only one…

Alix was paying barely—if any—attention to the whole conversation. She was flopped out on Alya’s bed with her legs up the wall and her eyes glued to the screen of her phone.

Rose was on the floor, surrounded by an army of nail polish bottles. All in varying shades of pink. It seemed she still hadn’t decided on which shade of pink would go best with her outfit for tomorrow.

Mylène was sitting beside Alix on the bed, though she wasn’t upside-down. She was sitting cross legged, with a pillow in her lap and her chin propped up in her hand, a bored look on her face.

“And then you’ll keep Luka occupied so he doesn’t interrupt them, right, Juleka?”

She jumped at the sudden sound of Alya—very pointedly—saying her name. “Sorry, what?”

“You’ll make sure Luka- or anyone else for that matter, doesn’t ruin the moment.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Alya didn’t look satisfied by the answer, but she continued on. Time seemed to drag by as they went through the next four phases of the operation. And it didn’t help that it felt like Alya was asking her something every other minute.

And she did not like how loaded the questions felt.

She did not like it one bit.

“…and because Nino isn’t doing the music, you’ll probably need to stall for a while, Alix, while I-”

“Y’know, I really don’t see the point of this,“ Alix groaned.

“What? What are you talking about?” Alya demanded as she turned to look at Alix as she crossed her arms.

She followed Alya’s gaze, and watched as Alix rolled to right herself and sit up. “We’ve been over these plans a billiontimes, Alya,” Alix complained before looking back down at her game.

“We have been reviewing them a lot,” Mylène quietly agreed.

“But we have to!”

“Do we?”

Alya’s gaze snapped to her so quickly, it was a miracle she didn’t have whiplash. “Of course we do. Don’t you want Marinette and Adrien to be happy?”

She hesitated; it suddenly felt like she was standing in the middle of a minefield. She needed to weigh her words carefully. “Of course I want Marinette to be happy. But she’s already going with Luka. Can’t we just let them enjoy the evening? Can’t we just enjoy the evening? Without scheming?” She certainly wouldn’t object to a scheme free evening.

“Juleka does have a point-“ Rose started to say.

“You’re only saying that because she’s going with your brother.”

Back before she had seen Marinette transform, had she found herself on the receiving end of such a glare, she would have shrunk in on herself. She would have faded into the background. Even a month ago, before she had become a tigress, she probably would have. It was the easy thing to do. Far easier than standing up to anyone.

But she was a tigress now.

And tigresses knew how to fade into the background. To move about unseen and undetected.

But they also knew how to roar.

“No, I’m not. I just want her- everyone to enjoy the night. I want Marinette to be happy and-”

“And that’s what I want!”

“That’s what we all want-” Rose started to say, only to be cut off again.

“After all the time she’s spent pining over Adrien, trying so hard to get him to notice her, you just want her to give up?” She met Alya’s glare with stoney silence. But before she could muster up words to redirect this conversation, or at least stall it, Alya’s eyes narrowed even further. “I knew it!” she hissed. “I knew something weird was going on-“

“Oh not this again,” Alix groaned.

“Not what again?”

Mylène—who at some point had gotten up—stepped forward tentatively, hands held out as if trying to placate. Though she wasn’t sure if it was her or Alya she was trying to calm. “Alya thinks-“

“I know-“

“Alya thinks you’ve been messing with the Adrien plans…”

Shoot. “What?”

“I told you it was dumb, Alya,” Alix said pointedly before looking up from her game to look at her. “She thinks you’ve been plotting against us.”

Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot.

“We told her it was just little miscommunications and accidents-“ Mylène started to say, only to be cut off.

“But I know it’s been more than that!”

“But Juleka wouldn’t lie to us!” Rose cried out indignantly, knocking over one of her bottles on nail polish as she stood up.

“Everybody lies. Right, Juleka?”

Alya was right. She would lie. She had lied to them. For months. But she had done it for Marinette’s sake!

And now this left her with a dilemma…

Was it better to come clean and tell them? Or was it better to stay quiet?

If she told them, she would have to tell them that Marinette had told her that she wanted to be with Luka. But Marinette had sworn her to secrecy, and she couldn’t betray Marinette’s trust. But if she didn’t come clean, she would be lying to them, which, granted, she had been doing every time she meddled with a plot… but those had always been little white lies!

Hadn’t they?

What was the right thing to do?

She could hear the blood rushing past her ears. It was the only sound she could hear. Everything - everyone - was silent. They were all just… just silent. Staring at her, waiting for her to- were they waiting for her to respond? Were they waiting for Alya to say something?

She was suffocating in the weight of the silence.

What was she supposed to do?

How did she get herself out of this?

“Come on Alya, that’s enough,” Mylène reprimanded. Her usually quiet voice was like thunder in the silence room. Suddenly, they were all talking

“Just let it go, it’s a stupid thing to fight about-” Alix added, only to be cut off.

“It’s not stupid! It’s-”

“Bijou, it’s ok. Just breathe…”

All of their voices were overlapping. Blending into each other until they were an almost indistinguishable cacophony. All muffled by the blood rushing past her ears and the thoughts ricocheting around in her head.

What was she supposed to do?

She needed quiet. Peace. To think.

She needed to get away.

But how?

For once, Shadowmoth was her saving grace.

The akuma alert blared from all of their phones. She jumped at the sound. Alix was the only one who hadn’t, actually. Then again, Alix had been the only one to be somewhat disengaged in the growing tension over the Adrienette plots. As Alix had said when they had settled into the meeting, she had mostly been there for the snacks.

Quickly, she scanned the akuma alert. There wasn’t much information about it, but it was by the tower.

Why was it always the tower? It was like akumas and tourists thought that was the only important place in Paris.

But it didn’t matter.

She needed to leave. She needed to be somewhere Ladybug could easily find her if she needed help with this one. And given last night… it was a pretty good possibility.

She froze when she looked up from her phone, her words dying on her lips. She could also see Alya’s desperation to go to ground zero of the akuma battle.

But Alya also looked like she wasn’t done arguing yet.

As it was, Alya was at an impasse. Both with herself and with her.

Because Alya couldn’t stay to argue with her and go get footage for her blog.

Or at least, she would be at an impasse with Alya. If she wanted to continue arguing with the equivalent of a brick wall that was.

“I gotta go. Need to check on Luka and Ma.” The lie was bitter in her mouth as she dashed towards the door.

“But bijou!”

“I’ll be careful!”

She was already out the door before Alya’s spluttered protests could reach her ears.

***

Her feet pounded against the pavement as she ran towards the Liberty.

If Ladybug needed her, she needed to be somewhere she would be easy to find.

At least her story- her lie about needing to check on Luka and her ma was believable. Of course, neither Luka nor her ma were supposed to be onboard right now. Luka was hanging out with his friends at Aimee’s place, and her ma was staging fight choreography at a community theatre in a completely different arrondissement. None of the girls knew that though. And the Liberty was docked close enough to the tower that, while not directly in harm’s way, was close enough that under other circumstances she would be worried.

But Juleka wouldn’t lie to us!

Rose’s words echoing in her head almost brought her to a halt.

She needed to keep going.

But the words weighed on her.

Rose had been wrong. She had lied to them. She had been lying to them for months now.

It had never felt great to lie. But they were harmless, small little lies. Or at least…

It had started with little lies. Little white lies. About texting the wrong time or texting the wrong person…

But the lies… they had become bigger.

And so much easier.

And the more she lied- whether by omission or fabrication, the harder it was to tell where the line between a half-truth and a lie lay. Was it even really a line anymore?

Had there ever been a line?

And with how easy the lies, the half-truths, the misdirections… how easy it had become to lie to her friends, her family… how easy it had all become…

The fact that she had so easily brushed off all of her lies until now… until she had been confronted and questioned point blank…

What kind of person did that make her?

She needed to keep going.

She didn’t have time for this.

But how was she supposed to move forward now?

She pumped her arms and legs even harder. Her lungs were starting to burn as she sprinted along the sidewalk, dodging dawdling tourists and ambling people left and right. With every step she took, the same question pounded through her head. Echoing the sound of her feet against the pavement.

What was she supposed to do now?

Finally, the Liberty came into view. She had barely made it on board when she saw a flash of red drop from the sky, down into the clutter of the meeting place they had hidden amongst all her ma’s chaos.

She darted over just as Ladybug peeked out from behind a crate.

“Good, you’re here. Are you free to help?”

“Always. So what are we looking at?” she asked as Ladybug pulled the bracelet from her yoyo.

“Not sure yet, I wanted to see if I could find you on my way there.”

“Well, glad that worked out,” she chuckled as she slipped the bracelet on. “Yeah, I’m free. Roarr, stripes on!”

***

She stared in disbelief as the ‘akuma’ was loaded into the back of a police car by an officer.

“…came all the way here, and decided he wanted to pull a prank,” Officer Roger groaned as he watched the door to the police car slam shut. “The embassy will have to deal with him. Tourists,” he added under his breath.

“Well,” Ladybug sighed as she massaged her temples, “at least no one was actually akumatized. I might need to do a press conference or something to remind people akumas aren’t something to joke about.”

“I’ll talk to the Commissioner and Mayor about it” Roger sighed before turning back to face her and Ladybug. “Good to see you, Ladybug. Purple Tigress, always a pleasure.”

“Take care,” she said with a nod before Officer Roger turned and headed back towards the cluster of police cars. “Talk about a waste of time,” she grumbled as she watched the cars drive off.

“You’d think they’d learn. C’mon,” Ladybug said, nodding towards the rooflines. Wordlessly, she followed Ladybug up. Once they were balanced on the roof, Ladybug turned to her with a wry smile. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry it was just a tourist. You’re still ok for patrol later tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Thank you, Juleka, you’re really saving my butt right now. Hold onto it until the end of patrol,” Ladybug added before she could finish undoing the clasp on the Miraculous.

She nodded. “I’ll just message you a good place to meet up once we’re done?” she asked as she fiddled with her Miraculous. Ladybug still took it back most of the time after patrols, but she had gotten to hang onto it overnight a couple times. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t mind relinquishing her hold on it. She was going to miss hanging out with Roarr and patrolling the city.

“That sounds perfect.” She glanced up at Ladybug to find her smiling thoughtfully at her.

***

She went halfway towards home as Tigress before she ducked into an abandoned back alley. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she dropped her transformation.

“I was looking forward to a good fight…” Roarr complained as soon as she was out of the Miraculous.

“I know,” she murmured, holding out her hand to the disgruntled kwami. “But it’s just as well. Ladybug doesn’t have much time left to work on her project, and I’m all out of emergency candy.”

“I guess…” Roarr mumbled as she settled into her palm. Despite her obvious disappointment at the lack of a fight, the kwami seemed unable to stop herself from purring as she stroked the soft fur on her head.

“I need to stop by the store on the way home and pick up some more eyeliner-”

“Your war paint,” Roarr corrected.

“Sure, my ‘war paint,’ but I’ll get you some more emergency candy. And…” she said, a smirk drawing across her face as Roarr’s ears twitched at the shift in her tone, “I’ll get you some anchovies too.” She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at the thought of the smelly, canned fish that Roarr adored. “Would that make you feel better?”

“I suppose…” Roarr said, her purr slipping into her voice.

“Come on then,” she said, gesturing to backpack. As soon as Roarr was safely hidden in her pack, she shrugged it back onto her shoulder and slipped out of the alley.

Once she stepped into the store, she made her way to the cosmetics aisle. Listlessly, she began perusing the display racks. Normally she enjoyed shopping for makeup—especially when her favourite eyeliner was on sale—but the deal on her favourite brand of eyeliner didn’t muster the usual excitement it would have.

Getting excited over a good price on eyeliner felt trivial compared to everything that was going on right now.

“What’s wrong, Juleka?”

She jumped at the sudden sound of Roarr’s voice in her ear.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Get back in my bag before someone sees you!” She cast a glance around the aisle, but thankfully no one else was browsing the cosmetics.

“It’s fine, your hair is so thick no one can see me when I’m hidden in it.” She let out a sigh of exasperation, but Roarr continued on, undeterred. “So what’s the matter? Usually you’re happy when you’re looking at all this stuff,” she felt Roarr’s tail flick against her ear, “but you aren’t today.”

“Well,” she said slowly as she picked up a random lipstick off the shelf and made a show of looking at the packaging. Hopefully, if anyone came into this section of the store, it would look like she was just mumbling over the packing of the lipstick instead of talking to her hair. “Alya caught on to what I’ve been up to…”

As she continued through the store, she filled Roarr in as quickly as she could, pausing in front of random displays under the guise of browsing to give herself more time to explain everything. Or at least, everything she could. But even that was only half the truth. Roarr still didn’t know that she knew Marinette was Ladybug, only that she had been interfering with the plots to get Adrien and Marinette together.

Even confiding about her dilemma was a mockery of it.

“…and it’s just a huge mess now,” she groaned as she dropped another bag of Roarr’s favourite candies into her shopping basket.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t want to keep lying-”

“I didn’t ask what you didn’t want to do. I asked what you’re going to do?”

“I don’t know. I mean- Bustier is always drilling it into use that lying is wrong, and they’re my friends…”

“But…?”

“But if I tell them, they’ll ask questions. Alya will demand answers. Answers I can’t give without betraying Marinette’s trust. And I would never do that.”

Roarr let out a satisfied purr. “A good tigress protects her own, and you’re a great Tigress. This Marinette girl is lucky to have you.”

She bit back a wry smile at the way Roarr distanced herself from Marinette. “But what should I do? What’s the right thing to do?”

Roarr let out something that was a cross between a yowl and a sigh. “You’re asking someone who’s kept her existence a secret from the world for millennia. As for the right thing… you mortals have such rigid understandings of what those concepts mean. There’s right and wrong, and there’s right and wrong.”

“So… you think I should lie?”

“A Tigress fights her own battles, whether with her claws or her head.” Roarr nuzzled against the back of her neck. “Trust your judgment. You may not realize it, but you know what you’re doing.”

***

As she began making her way back home, she tried to think of how she would do her makeup for the dance. She already had a pretty clear idea, but there were still a few details she needed to decide on. Same with her hair. And her nails.

Really, she tried to think about anything except what had gone down during the meeting. But as hard as she tried, her mind kept finding its way back. Relieving every moment of it.

And dwelling on all of it.

‘I told you it was dumb.’

Except, it wasn’t…

‘We told her it was just little miscommunications and accidents.’

There had been nothing accidental about any of it…

‘But I know it’s been more than that!’

And the one time Alya was right…

She could tell them. She could come clean and fess up. Tell them- not everything. But she could tell them she had been sabotaging the schemes.

Except she couldn’t.

Lying was wrong.

But right now, telling the truth didn’t feel right either.

And while Roarr’s advice- well, it felt like a stretch to call it advice… but while Roarr’s words had comforted her, they hadn’t really given her an answer.

If anything, Roarr had only given her more food for thought. And it was tough things to chew on.

By the time she was trudging across the gangplank, she was still no closer to an answer. If anything, it felt like she had spiralled further away from one.

“Hey, Jules,” she looked up from her feet, where her gaze had drifted at some point during the walk home. Luka was sitting on the edge of the stage, his guitar in hand.

“You’re back already?”

“Yeah, Nadine had an audition tonight and Bri had a shift, so we packed it in early. Captain called by the way, she’s going to be later than she thought and the crew is all grabbing a bite so it’s just you and me for dinner. We’re doing takeout, anything you feel like?”

“I’m good with whatever. Just no-”

“Olives. I know,” he chuckled as he idly strummed his guitar. But then he frowned. He strummed the same notes again before he looked up from his guitar to meet her gaze. “Is everything ok? You sound a little flat.”

She hesitated. Luka was always the first person she turned to for advice. But he was… well, he was honest. And she knew honesty and lies were a bit of a sore subject for him, given their ma’s refusal to tell him the truth about his father.

“C’mon Jules, you know you can talk about anything with me,” he said as he set his guitar aside and patted the empty stage next to him.

She sighed as she sat down next to him. “What are your thoughts about… about lies? And lying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is the truth always better than a lie?”

He turned to her with puzzlement and concern written all over his face. “What’s this all about, Jules?”

“Say you weren’t being… entirely honest about something to a friend.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you were doing it because at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do, even though you didn’t like it. And now some people think you’re telling the truth and others think you’re lying and you suddenly aren’t sure-”

“Jules,” Luka’s voice was quiet and gentle, but firm. “Take a breath.” She did as he told her, and once he seemed satisfied that she was at least a little calmer, he continued. “Now, why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

She sighed. If there was one person she could be straight with about her recent involvement in the Adrien schemes, it was Luka. “You know how the girls and I used to plot all those schemes to get Adrien and Marinette together?’

“Yeah I- used to? I thought those were still happening. Or did they stop when I asked-”

“They are. Like Alya would give up.” Luka snorted at that. “But… but I’ve maybe been kind of completely sabotaging them for months now.” She spat the words out as quickly as she could, and she suddenly felt so much lighter.

“Really? You don’t say…” The sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice. “What?” he added when she snapped her head to stare incredulously at him. “All those times you found excuses for me to spend time with Marinette? You know Couaffines can only be so subtle.” He had a point: she was still her mother’s daughter after all. And maybe subtlety had gone by the wayside when she had been dealing with him… but subtlety only went so far when dealing with her brother’s particular brand of idiot…

“And you’ve been telling me to ask her out for months. Remember?” She rolled her eyes, but allowed herself a wry smile at the memory of the multitude of headaches he had caused her. “So I take it you’re asking me this because the girls found out?”

“Alya suspects. The rest of the girls think she’s being paranoid.”

“And you don’t know if it’s better to come clean?” She nodded glumly. He sighed as he leaned back on his hands. “Honestly, I don’t know, Jules. It sucks being lied to, and they’ll probably find out eventually.”

“But if I have a reason not to tell them?”

Really, it was a matter of reasons.

“It would have to be a pretty good reason. At least, I think so. And I guess that’s where it gets more complicated. Is it better to hide the truth because it hurts? Or will it hurt more when they find out you’ve been lying to them? Will the lies even protect them from the hurt?”

Her gaze dropped down to her lap.

They would be hurt.

If she told the truth now, they would be hurt. But they would also be hurt if she told them the truth later.

If she didn’t tell them, if she kept lying and they found out, they would be hurt.

But if she told them the truth, Marinette would also be hurt.

She would be going back on a promise.

And if she kept lying and they all found out she had been meddling, would Marinette be hurt then too?

No matter what she did, someone could end up getting hurt.

She saw Luka shift out of the corner of her eye. She turned in time to see him shift to gaze down at his bracelets. She watched as he flicked listlessly at them. To anyone else, it would look like he was just fiddling with his jewelry. But the way he was flicking at it… it was obvious he was thinking about a particular bracelet.

“But I think… well, there are some lies that need to be told. I made you promise not to tell anyone about how I felt about Marinette-”

“Which I didn’t.”

“But I’m guessing you had to tell lies to keep it a secret?”

She had certainly been… creative with the truth. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

He turned to her with heavy eyes and a grateful smile. “And I think that makes things more complicated too. Keeping secrets but also being honest.” He had no idea. “Honestly, Jules, I don’t think I have an answer for you. I don’t think it’s an easy black and white problem.”

“I figured as much.” With another wry smile, she stood up. “I’m going to go chill for a bit, and then I have to go out again. Are you ok if we have a late dinner?”

“Works for me. Tom and Sabine sent Aimee home with a ton of stuff and Nadine brought falafel and fatayers-”

“Did you bring me any?”

“You really think there was any left by the time everyone had their fill?”

“Dingo ate most of it, didn’t he?”

“Of course he did.”

“You owe me then.”

“Wouldn’t Dingo-”

“Well, better you had all of that today.” If she was going to bring a dour mood to the boat, it was also up to her to break it. “Wouldn’t want you to have garlic breath for Marinette, now would we?”

“Jules!”

She smirked as she walked away; she didn’t need to look to know his ears were probably glowing bright red.

“Coast is clear,” she murmured once she was in her room. Roarr zipped out of her bag to hover over her shoulder with wide, pleading eyes as she unpacked her shopping bag. With the emergency candy stashed in her backpack and purses, and her new makeup carefully arranged on her dressing table, she rolled her eyes affectionately and pulled out the can of anchovies with only a little disgust.

“And you said I could watch videos on your phone while you read…” Roarr wheedled, giving her her best puppy—kitty?—eyes as she clutched the unopened can to her. She liked to use her claws to open them. Or, as Roarr called it, delivering the killing strike.

She pulled her phone out of the depths of her bag; just as she was passing it to Roarr, her stomach plummeted to the bottom of the Seine.

Two missed texts from Alix.

Five from Mylène.

Thirteen from Rose.

Between the false alarm, her shopping expedition, and her rather preoccupied walk home, she hadn’t thought to check her phone…

Rose 🌹💗: I wanted to say sorry

Rose 🌹💗: I feel really bad about not telling you

Rose 🌹💗: I didn’t think Alya would be so intense

Rose 🌹💗: I thought it would be better to just go along

Rose 🌹💗: that she would realize sooner or later she didn’t need to worry

Rose had sent those messages ages ago.

And she hadn’t responded.

Quickly, she began typing. She just hoped Rose didn’t think she was mad.

Queen of Darkness 🦇: I'm so sorry! I got home but the akuma was a false alarm so I went out to get more eyeliner for tomorrow and I didn’t check my phone! I promise I wasn’t ignoring you

It wasn’t the full or exact truth. But she had picked up eyeliner. And hadn’t been ignoring Rose—or the rest of the girls—on purpose.

But it still felt like a lie.

Dots appeared on the screen immediately.

Rose 🌹💗: It’s ok!!!!!

Rose 🌹💗: I wanted to say sorry

Rose 🌹💗: actually

Rose 🌹💗: can I call you????

Rose 🌹💗: I want to say it properly

She pressed the dial button, and Rose picked up before the first ring could even finish.

“Angel, I’m-”

“I’m so sorry, bijou!” The anguish in Rose’s voice was palpable. “I should have never let things go so far! I should have told you right away! Or at least sooner! Before it ever came to this! But I thought it would be better to just try and go with it. That maybe she would give up? Or see reason- I don’t know but the point is-”

“Rose. Rose. Slow down. Take a nice deep breath for me,” she waited while she listened to Rose inhale deeply and then exhale. “Can you start at the beginning? Because honestly, I don’t really know exactly what it is you’re apologizing for.”

Rose sniffled. “Yeah, I can do that. I just, please don’t be mad at me,” Rose’s words tumbled out in an almost incomprehensible stream.

“Take another breath.” She waited while she again listened to Rose’s breathing. Usually, it was Rose telling her to take a deep breath. “Ok?”

“Yeah.” Over the line, she heard Rose take in a shaky breath, like she was trying to work herself up to say whatever it was she was apologizing for. “Ok, so you remember when we went shopping? And Luka bumped into the guys while he was out buying guitar strings? And he joined us all for lunch, and asked Marinette to the dance and sat beside her during lunch?”

How could she forget?

“Well, Alya thought that you had made Luka come. That you had ruined her plan on purpose.”

Which she had.

“And- well, she told us that she thought it was weird how the schemes with Adrien seemed to be going worse and worse the last few months. And she thought… well, she made this chart…”

Of course she had.

“It started with that time you texted Marinette the wrong time for the movie. And, well, she was just so sure that you were trying to ruin things with Adrien. We all tried to tell her how ridiculous it was! You would never do anything to ruin Marinette’s love life.”

Technically true. Just not in the way Rose thought…

“But you know how Alya can be sometimes…”

Try always.

“And she was so sure that you were sabotaging things so she set up secret meetings without you to plan other schemes that you wouldn’t know about.”

So was that what the unsent message had been about?

“And she said that if the schemes we planned at the meetings you were there for went wrong, that would be proof that you were meddling.”

“But the plans always go wrong.”

Sometimes, they just needed a helping hand.

“That’s what we all told her. But she was so insistent. She wouldn’t listen to reason! And we- well, we went along with it. The secret meetings, I mean. The day I said I couldn’t go to lunch…”

“There was another meeting after the one I went to.” It wasn’t even a question at this point.

“I didn’t like it. None of us did. But… I guess we thought that maybe we could get her to listen if we humoured her for a bit? Help her realize how silly she was being about the whole thing. I think we all hoped she would realize herself. Beforeshe could make any accusations like she did. That’s what we wanted to avoid. None of us liked it. Leaving you out that way. Lying and going behind your back. I wanted to tell you. We all did. But- we…” On the other end of the line, Rose descended into a fresh wave of tears and sniffles.

“Shhh, it’s ok,” she murmured gently. It took a while, but after several minutes of offering quiet, and what she hoped were soothing and comforting, words of encouragement, Rose was able to talk through her tears again.

“I didn’t like lying to you. But I thought it was the right thing to do. Please don’t be mad at me- you have every right to be- but at least let me make it up to you. Please?”

Her heart twisted at Rose’s words. At the tears in her voice.

How could she be mad at Rose? Especially when she had been lying for far longer.

She hesitated.

She could tell Rose. She could tell her that Alya was right, and that she had been sabotaging the plans the whole time.

But not without going back on her promise…

“I know,” she said quietly. “And I’m not angry; I understand why you didn’t tell me.” The words tingled on the tip of her tongue. But… she couldn’t. “Your heart was in the right place. It always is.” Rose sniffled at her words. “I love you. Ok?”

She just hoped she was making the right choice.

“I love you too, bijou.”

***

She flew across the rooftops; the speed with which she was running and leaping, it felt like her feet didn’t even touch the ground.

It was a sharp contrast to the heavy thoughts warring inside her head.

She should have known going into all of this that it would only be a matter of time before Alya got suspicious. If not of her specifically then at least of all the ways the schemes went wrong that didn’t have to do with Marinette getting flustered or Adrien’s scheduling. She should have suspected this would be a bridge she would need to cross sooner or later.

But she hadn’t realized later would come so soon.

And now that she was here…

She had never enjoyed lying to the girls. But it had been so much easier when they had no idea what was really going on. It had been easy enough to brush off the feeling of the lies in her mouth and the pangs of guilt that echoed in her chest.

And she had never lied directly.

Or at least, not often.

She had just… misdirected and misrepresented with her words.

She came to a halt at the end of a block of row houses, catching herself against a chimney.

Wasn’t that the same thing as lying, really?

If she told the girls the truth—well, part of it—now, would they understand? Would they forgive her?

Would they believe her if she said she had seen the way Marinette was reluctant to participate in the plans she knew about? That she had noticed how uncomfortable Marinette was around Adrien? Or would they chalk that up to Marinette’s nerves?

Rose, Mylène, and Alix might- they probably would… but she couldn’t see Alya believing her. And even then… would Alya just take that as an admission of guilt anyway? For meddling? Would her friends be hurt?

Was there even a right answer?

Her talks with Roarr, Luka, and Rose had just given her more to chew on.

Roarr had said she knew what she was doing.

But obviously she didn’t.

And the kwami’s stance on what the right thing was… was less than helpful. She wasn’t even entirely sure she understood what Roarr had meant.

Luka had said there were some lies that needed to be told. He had obviously been thinking about his duties as Viperion.

She had never questioned lying to keep Ladybug’s secrets…

But Marinette’s secrets were just as important as Ladybug’s.

And how could she live with herself if she only protected some of those secrets?

And Rose…

She wasn’t mad at Rose. How could she be? All Rose had been trying to do was protect her feelings.

And Alix and Mylène… they had both confessed the truth- the full truth of what had been going on behind her back. They had confessed. They had apologized. And they had checked in on her too, to make sure she was ok after the way the meeting had ended.

She still wished Rose- that all of them had just told her from the start.

But that just made her a hypocrite. Her hands weren’t exactly clean…

She had told Rose her heart had been in the right place. And it had been.

She liked to think hers was, too. But she had also become so accustomed to lying. To secrets. And everything Rose did was paved with good intentions.

Would the rest of the girls be as understanding? Would they see things the same way?

And worst of all…

Was she only feeling this way now… questioning all of this now because Alya had called her out?

Would she have crossed—or, more accurately, gotten stuck on—this bridge eventually?

Or would she have just continued to lie?

Guilt and indecision weighed down her otherwise light footsteps as she bounded across the rooftops towards her meeting place with Ladybug. Usually patrol was a good way to blow off steam, but she felt just as tense as she had when she left for patrol. Maybe even more so, knowing she wouldn’t have Roarr curled up under the covers with her tonight.

Even if the kwami’s advice hadn’t been helpful, the cuddles always made her feel better.

By the time she had made it to the top of the south bell tower of Notre Dame, Ladybug was waiting for her.

Ladybug was sitting on the edge of the roof. One of her legs dangling over the edge, the other she was hugging to herself, resting her chin on it as she stared out absently over the city. The sun was still in the sky, but it was sinking towards the horizon.

“Ladybug?”

Ladybug turned, but didn’t stand. “Yeah?”

“You ok?”

“Oh, yeah. I just… I have a lot on my mind. I’ve had a lot on my mind for a long time. But especially after yesterday…” Ladybug trailed off, her face flushed with the same shade of embarrassment as last night, when she had collected the Miraculous and apologized profusely for having such a heated argument with Chat in front of her. “You look like you have a lot on your mind too.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, kicking a stray pebble, “you could say that.”

Ladybug offered her a half smile and patted the empty roof beside her. “Maybe we can have a lot on our minds together for a bit? I…” Ladybug smiled shyly, “I wouldn’t mind having a break with a friend.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

They sat in silence for some time. Ladybug had gone back to staring pensively out over the city, her hands uncharacteristically still in her lap. An errant breeze ruffled their hair as she turned her own attention out to the city below her.

It was almost comical, really.

That after dealing with countless schemes, ad campaigns, and even akumas, this was what she was getting hung up on. Lying and secrets.

How could she be a hero if she didn’t even know what the right thing to do was?

She sighed. They never showed this in the movies, and none of the interviews with the American heroes that Alya always watched ever talked about this. There wasn’t a guidebook on how to deal with this.

But… if there was one person who would understand lying and secrets better than anyone she knew…

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!” Ladybug said, angling to turn to her. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

She smiled gratefully at Ladybug, before taking a deep breath. “How do you deal with it?” she asked quietly. “The lying, I mean?”

“…the lying?”

“You know, the lies. Akuma attacks, well, they happen without warning and I figure you’ve got to have a life outside the mask so I assumed you must have to make up excuses to slip away.” It wasn’t quite the kind of lying she was grappling with. Though, to be frank, she still wasn’t all that great at coming up with excuses to slip away in case Tigress was needed, too. But it felt close enough.

Beside her, Ladybug shifted, then sighed. It was a heavy sigh. A sound that expressed the weight of magical jewelry and everything it entailed. “I hate it.” Ladybug admitted quietly.

Ladybug had her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging them close to her chest. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, but her gaze was far away. Like she was trying to see something just out of sight.

She let her own gaze drift back to the sky in front of them as she waited for her friend to gather her words.

“I guess… I guess it helps that I know I have to. To keep them safe. Telling people, it would put them at risk. And it’s my job- I want to protect them. So I lie. I lie to my friends. To my family. To Lu- lots of people.”

She nodded solemnly, her gaze fixed out on the city below. Somehow, they had come to the silent agreement that this conversation was easier to have without looking the other in the eye.

It… it was different. Maybe. But it also wasn’t.

Marinette lied to the people she loved to protect them.

She lied to the people she loved to protect Marinette’s happiness.

Sure, she wasn’t exactly out there saving lives with her lies. But wasn’t misery just as much a threat? Especially with Shadowmoth?

“How do you… how do you know when it’s the right time to lie?”

“It’s always felt like lying was the only option. Sometimes it’s just a little lie. Y’know, ‘oh I have to go to the washroom’ or something. But sometimes I need to make the lies bigger. And when I do, well, I try to only do it when I need to. When I need to do or say something, even if it’s hard, to protect someone.”

“I see.”

“It never goes away though.”

“What?”

“The guilt. Knowing I’m lying to people I care about and that I’ll keep lying. Even though I know it’s the right thing, I still hate it. But in some ways… I think the guilt is good.”

“How so?” The guilt that had been eating away at her all afternoon and evening… how could such a horrible feeling be good?

“If we feel guilty about lying, that means we’re still good people, even if we can’t be honest. Or at least,” Ladybug sighed, “that’s what I tell myself to try and stay sane.”

She frowned. “I… I never really thought of it that way.”

“I don’t know if it’s true, but it helps to tell myself that, at least.”

“Whoever you are, Ladybug, you’re a good person.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small smile creep across Ladybug’s face. “So are you, Tigress.”

They settled back into silence, though it was a somewhat lighter silence this time. The only measure of time was the sun continuing its slow descent towards the horizon.

“I’m tired of lying. I want to tell… people the truth. But I guess I’m so used to keeping secrets- and it’s such a big secret and it wouldn’t just change things for me-“ Ladybug cut herself off abruptly. Tigress turned to look at her friend, who flashed her an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. You asked me- you asked for advice and here I am blathering about my own problems. But I wanted to ask… you asked about the lying… is it too much? It know how hard it all is, and if this is getting to be too much-“

“No, no. It’s fine. I- I like being Tigress. And I don’t mind you talking about your stuff. Actually,” she said slowly, “it helped. A lot. And for what it’s worth, I think if there’s someone you trust enough with your secret, I’m betting they’d be happy to help you share the burden.”

“Maybe…” Ladybug said thoughtfully.

“I guess it’s a good thing I had patrol tonight.”

“Oh?”

She smiled wryly. “Misery loves company, especially when it’s over the same problem.” A look flashed across Ladybug’s face that made her pause. “Or… did you have something else on your mind? You know I’m here to talk too, if you need it.” The fury in Ladybug’s eyes from last night flashed in her mind. “Yesterday…yesterday was a lot. Are you doing ok?”

Ladybug’s face softened into a smile. “I know. And I am. Doing ok, that is.” She must not have looked particularly convinced because Ladybug chuckled. Enough so that the corners of her eyes crinkled, warping the spots of her mask. “Really, I’m fine. I promise,” she said before turning back to look over the city. “Last night was hard. Lying is hard. But sometimes…sometimes… well, I think it’s good. To do the hard things, that is. Even when you really don’t want to.”

That did not sound… reassuring.

Maybe it was good to do hard things sometimes, but Chat had made things harder than necessary yesterday. He had been for a long time.

There was still a hint of a smile onLadybug’s face, but it was caught somewhere between wistful and wry. And the look in her eyes… it wasn’t unlike the look Marinette got when she was studying a piece of clothing, trying to figure out its construction and such. Then the glint in her eyes was gone.

She shifted beside Ladybug, opening her mouth to say something. But before she could figure out the words, Ladybug broke the silence.

“I promise, I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“I do.”

She did. She just hoped Ladybug wasn’t going to make things harder for herself than they already were.

Speaking of which…

“I’m sorry for keeping you so long. I know you’re working to a deadline.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was probably due for a break anyways and…” Ladybug smiled softly, “it was nice. Talking about all of this. I’ve never really had anyone who got it.”

Ladybug- Marinette should have had someone who got it. She deserved someone who got it. She should have had someone from the start.

And she… she hadn’t realized it until now. But she hadn’t really had someone who got it either. Not all of it. Luka… there were some things she couldn’t tell hm. Some things he couldn’t get. But even if she couldn’t talk to Luka about everything, he was always there. And just knowing he was there made all the difference. But…

She hadn’t truly realized, hadn’t truly appreciated how much it meant to have someone who got it. And it made her heart ache that Marinette had been without someone for so long.

“I may not get all of it, but I’m here. Whenever you need me.”

***

“Get all your errands done?”

“Yep. Get all your love songs written?”

“Nope,” he half sighed. She could hear the eye roll in his voice. “Food should be here soon. I ordered sushi.”

“Did you get-”

“Yes, I got spicy tuna. And spicy salmon.”

“Good. I’m going down below for a bit. I need to figure out how I’m doing my nails for tomorrow- yes, you can borrow my good black nail polish.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when the food’s here.”

Once she was back in her room, she spread her nail polish bottles out across her dressing table. She probably wouldn’t do a manicure, given she had the lace gloves, but her shoes were open toed so it would be nice to have her toenails painted.

Plus, she could really use a nice, relaxing pedicure.

Honestly, she could do with a whole spa day. But that would have to wait. For now, an at home pedicure would have to do.

She had just gotten her choices narrowed down, and was trying to decide which of the two deep plum shades would better match the lipstick she was planning on wearing when Luka’s voice floated down from above deck.

“Jules.” She frowned at the sound of his voice. It was… it wasn’t… usually, when he called her to let her know their food was there or he needed her help with something- “Alya’s here to see you.”

She almost dropped the bottles of nail polish.

She should have seen this coming, what with the way they—she—had left things at the meeting earlier. Really, when she thought about it, it was suspicious that Alya hadn’t shown up earlier. Like right after the akuma was declared a hoax. Although… maybe there had been another meeting, like the ones Rose had told her had been going on…

But Rose hadn’t said anything about another meeting taking place after the one she had run out of. And based on the timestamps, Mylène, Alix, and Rose had all started texting her almost right after she had bolted out.

Grimacing, she set down the bottles of nail polish. Alya was probably the last person she wanted to talk to right now. Except maybe Adrien. It was probably too late to pretend she was in the shower or something…

But even if they didn’t have… whatever this talk was going to be now, she would only be delaying the inevitable.

Sighing, she got up.

It seemed the time had come for her to cross this bridge.

She just hoped it wouldn’t end up burnt…

Luka was standing with his guitar slung over his back and his hands shoved into his pockets. Most people found Luka hard to read; people said he kept his cards close to his chest. Maybe it was a Couffaine thing, or maybe it was just a sibling thing, but she had never had trouble reading her brother. And she did not like the look on his face.

What most people would mistake for his resting face, she recognized as guarded. And there was something in his eyes- annoyance. And a sudden fatigue.

Alya was standing across from him. She looked like she was ready for battle, with the tense way she was holding herself. Like she was ready to spring into action at a second’s notice. To say nothing of the hard and determined look on her face. The same look she had whenever she…

What had she said to Luka?

They both turned to look at her as the top step squeaked under her foot.

Alya’s eyes narrowed behind her glasses, the lenses flashing in the dying light.

The tension in the air was palpable.

Luka looked at her with a silent question in his eyes. Luka was perceptive—about most things—and the vibes Alya was putting out right now? Well, Kim would have picked up on them…

A few months ago, she would have asked him to stay. She would have needed him to. Part of her still wanted him to. But she also wanted- needed to do… whatever this was going to be, on her own.

She squared her shoulders, and nodded. He gave her one last questioning and concerned look, which she returned with another nod. He nodded and left with a promise that he was close by if she needed him in his eyes.

As she watched Luka warily head down the stairs below deck, she steeled herself for the oncoming storm.

“I would have come earlier,” Alya said. It was a good thing she hadn’t come earlier, especially as she had come with no warning. “But I got held up.”

Alya didn’t offer anything more, which left her with the distinct feeling she would not like whatever it was that had held Alya up.

If she had to guess… her money was on a new set of schemes.

Part of her wanted to ask, but there was no way Alya would tell her if her suspicions were correct. Not after this afternoon. Especially not, given the way Alya was watching her, with her arms folded across her chest and her eyes boring into her.

“Just as well,” she said carefully, “I was out earlier. I had errands to run.”

“Oh?” It was impressive how Alya could make it sound like both a question and accusation.

“I needed to pick up some more eyeliner for tomorrow.”

Alya’s eyes narrowed even more, and her mouth twisted into a tight line. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Alya was about to demand to see her literal receipt. “Speaking of tomorrow, I don’t know what you’ve been- what you are playing at, but it needs to stop.”

“I’m not playing at anything.” That, at least, was the honest truth.

When it came to Luka and Marinette’s happiness, there was no playing.

Alya raised her brows. “The movie incident?”

“I texted her the wrong time for the movie we were going to go see.”

Technically true.

“The time we tried to get her to the park to see Adrien and she was out without her phone? You were slow to reply. And your messages never agreed to the plan! I went back and checked.”

“I was on the way home from the laundromat, I had my hands full! And Marinette forgets her phone at home all the time!”

“And the photoshoot?”

“Marinette made an outfit specifically for me to model, and I had the makeup masterclass starting the next weekend-”

“You were supposed to bail because of the class!” She and Alya both froze at the outburst; Alya’s eyes went wide, like she hadn’t been expecting to start shouting. She folded her arms across her chest as she watched Alya take a breath like Bustier always told them to. Though her exhale was still more of a huff than anything. Alya’s gaze refocused on her. “Luka asked her to the dance.”

“He did,” she agreed carefully.

“Adrien was supposed to ask her when we all met for lunch.”

“I didn’t know that.” That was the honest truth. Alya hadn’t told her about that particular scheme. Not that that would have changed anything…

“You should have known,” Alya snapped, a note of desperation making its way into her voice. “And Luka looked at you before he asked her.”

“So?”

“You put him up to it. You told him to ask her, even though you know Adrien and Marinette are meant to be.” Alya stepped towards her, a hiss slipping into her voice as she pointed an accusatory finger at her. Pain flared in her hands as her nails bit into her palms from how tightly her hands were balled into fists. But she refused to shrink. She refused to back down or balk. “You’ve been ruining the plans to get Adrien and Marinette together. Admit it.”

Alya was staring her down. Hard.

Months ago, she would have wilted under such a look. She never even would have made it far enough into a conflict to reach this precipice.

But here she was.

And she was not happy.

Alya had shown up, unannounced. She had said only the Universe knew what to Luka. Although she had her suspicions.

And now, Alya was flinging accusations.

Yes, those accusations were true.

Yes, she had been meddling and sabotaging at every turn.

But she had done her best to listen to Marinette and Luka.

She had respected what they wanted.

She had never picked a fight over any of this.

And now?

She was not happy.

Familiar heat was bubbling up in her stomach and coursing through her veins. Tension was seeping into every inch of her body. She pressed her lips together as tightly as she could, biting down on their insides to keep herself from saying something she would regret.

Alya looked just as tense: her chest was heaving and all her weight was on her toes. Like she was ready for anything. And she was staring hard at her.

It would be so easy to give into the white hot anger running through her right now. The anger at being confronted in her own home.

At having accusations, as true as they were, flung in her face.

At having to even be in this position in the first place…

But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

She had decided a long time ago that she never wanted to be Shadowmoth’s puppet ever again. And now that she had been given responsibilities, had protected Paris, had worked alongside Ladybug?

Well, that only strengthened her resolve.

She refused to be used like that to hurt her friends, her family, her home, ever again.

And part of those responsibilities- part of protecting everything she held dear, was not just fighting akumas.

It was preventing them too.

She took a breath to steady herself. “We both need to take a breath,” she said as calmly but as firmly as she could. “Neither of us wants to akumatized.”

Alya stumbled at her words, like she had been broken from some sort of trance. She shook her head and then blinked at her, like she was startled by the notion that either of them could be at risk of akumatization.

Without waiting for agreement—or protests—she let her eyes slip shut and began to inhale deeply. A moment later, she heard Alya join in with her.

She let herself focus on the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the slowing of her racing heart. Once she felt calm enough, she opened her eyes again.

Alya was staring at her once more.Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and there were still hints of a glare in her eyes. But at least it seemed her anger had melted back into suspicion. “Thanks,” Alya said quietly. “I needed that.”

“Me, too.”

“But you never admitted to it. To any of it.”

Right…

The truth was a tricky thing. And lies were just as difficult.

If she told Alya the truth about her interference, maybe it would help Alya step back and look at things for what they truly were. Maybe it would help Alya let go of her fixation on making Adrien and Marinette happen.

But she had made a promise.

And if she told Alya the truth, she would have questions. Questions she wouldn’t be able to answer. Not without breaking her promise and betraying Marinette’s trust. And she would go to her grave before she did that to Marinette.

Which meant that the truth would just lead to more lies anyways.

‘I think there are some lies that need to be told.’

‘I thought it was the right thing to do.’

‘I guess it helps that I know I have to. To keep them safe.’

Under the guise of taking another calming breath, she steeled herself.

And lied as honestly as she could.

“I didn’t tell him to ask her out the day we went shopping. I haven’t done anything to hurt Marinette’s happiness.”

Alya’s frown deepened as she left out a huff. Behind her glasses, her eyes were once again narrowed with suspicion. For her part, she did her best to look cool and collected. She forced herself to stand tall, but she couldn’t keep herself from fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

“I don’t believe you-”

“-and if you see the dry-cleaners, then you’ve gone too far.” Luka’s voice and footsteps floated up from the stairs, and suddenly he was standing beside her—but a little ways off to give some semblance of privacy—his phone pressed to his ear. “Sorry,” he mumbled, covering his phone, “delivery guy got lost.” Alya’s face turned to disbelief before settling back into a suspicious glare pointed her way. He shot her a look with a silent question, to which she nodded. “Yeah, Darrel? Yeah, I’m still here. So if you take the next right, you should be on the North bank. We’re the houseboat with the huge stage. I’m on deck, just look for blue hair.” Luka started waving; she and Alya both looked in the direction he was looking. A tall, lanky guy with a phone pressed to his ear glanced at them and his face brightened.

They watched as the guy—Darrel—bounded down the steps and approached the gangplank.

“I have no idea how I missed it the first time,” he said as he ambled across the deck, completely oblivious to what he had just walked in on. How he couldn’t feel the tension in the air, thick as pea soup, was beyond her. “Not many houseboats have stages. Anyways, sorry for the delay. That looks like a wicked set up, I bet you could put on a pretty awesome concert…”

Alya eyed her suspiciously as Luka began to talk shop with Darrel.

Would Alya want to keep going in circles with her after Darrel was gone?

Would she- who was she kidding? Alya was not one to give up-

“I should get going. Let you have your dinner.”

What?

She snapped her gaze away from Darrel and Luka to look back at her friend. Alya was still watching her through narrowed eyes. But the heat that had been behind Alya’s eyes was gone. Replaced by a coolness.

What…

“Uh- yeah. Sounds good…”

“I’m sure tomorrow will be the night. The night Marinette’s dreamed about? The night she finally gets together with Adrien. Right?” Ok, yeah. Alya was definitely not giving up.

As admirable as her tenacity was… it was just as much headache inducing.

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

With one last look, Alya turned on her heel.

She watched as Alya made her way across the gangplank. Just one misplaced step… that’s all it would take…

If she were a better person, she wouldn’t be having these thoughts.

If she were a worse person, she probably would have already given into the temptation and pushed her into the river.

But she wouldn’t. No matter how tempting it was… Sure, out of the girl squad, Alya was the one she was the least close with. And the past couple of weeks—months for her—had certainly put a strain on their relationship it seemed.

But Alya was still her friend.

And it was the Seine.

She watched as Alya, now across safe and sound, headed towards the stairs that led to the street. As if feeling her eyes on her, Alya stopped and turned around to meet her gaze. It was hard to tell with the last of the evening sun reflecting off the lenses of her glasses, but based on the way Alya’s mouth was screwed into a tight line… She felt pretty safe on betting that her response to Alya’s parting words had done nothing to quell her suspicions.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, she returned Alya’s gaze measure for measure. They stared at each other, caught in a silent showdown. And it seemed neither of them wanted to swerve first.

Would it be better to just give Alya the win?

Let her think she had called chicken first? Try and get her to lower her guard?

Or would it be better to hold firm?

Stand strong and not shrink back into the shadows?

Before she could debate herself into any more circles—she had had more than enough of that for one day—the sound of Darel's voice broke the air.

“Thanks for the tip, man,” Darrel said. She turned just in time to see him pass Luka a large paper bag filled with their dinner as he shoved the cash into a bag clipped to his belt. “Have a good one,” he said as he turned and headed towards the gangplank. Still seemingly blithely ignorant of the showdown he had interrupted.

Her gaze followed his movement, and then drifted past to the stairs to the street. But there was no sign of Alya.

“Watch your step,” she half-mumbled, half-called after him absently as her brows furrowed. She jumped at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. When she turned, Luka was giving her the very definition of a ‘concerned older brother look.

“Everything ok?”

She looked back to the empty stairs, and then nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. Let’s eat.”

As she and Luka headed towards the stairs down below deck, she looked back one last time.

#cw anxiety #cw - anxiety #endgame lukanette #juleka vs the forces of the universe #juleka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #alya cesaire #alya salt #adrien salt #chat noir salt #rose lavillant #mylene haprele #alix kubdel

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lovebugs-and-snakecharmers · 1 year

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LBSC Valentine’s Exchange Works

Once again, a HUGE thank you to everyone who participated and made our annual Valentine’s exchange a success! Here’s the complete list of works for you to enjoy!

AO3 Collection | #LBSCExchange2023

From @airi-p4 for nonbinarynino: Winter Vacation | Winter Vacation Art

From @alwaysawkwardd for @mintaka14: Say I Do

From @annalulz for @karin848: More than Words (to say I Love You)

From @blueberry-macaron for @quickspinner: Symphony for you and me

From @cocoabellefuntimes for @mistyshadow0: Art

From @emixion for @blueberry-macaron: now you're beside me (and look how far we've come)

From @goldenlaurelleaveswrites for @nerdypanda3126: I Should Be Asleep

From @haphira for @mrsmayday14: Aerial Dancing Through My Heart | Aerial Dancing Art

From @inkmousey for @writerriderdirtythirties: Now Kiss

From @karin848 for @livrever: Art

From @ladyfreya123 for @goldenlaurelleaveswrites: Meet cute in the coffee shop

From @livrever for @annalulz: The Things We Would Do for a Cookie

From @livrever for @inkmousey: How Did This Happen?

From @mintaka14 for @rierse: Locked Out 3: Get a Key

From @nerdypanda3126 for @haphira: Stolen Kisses

From @mrsmayday14 for @eat0crow: Shadow...hunters?

From nonbinarynino for Marichatsaviour01: we could be the way forward (and i know i'll pay for it)

From @quickspinner for @emixion: We’ll Take Our Time

From @quickspinner for @verfound: Too Good to Be True

From Renigan for @ladyfreya123: Blueberries Under the Weather

From Rosalia_Briar0 for Renigan: Little Red Riding Hood AU

From @rierse for @trixxiephantomhive: My Kingdom for a Dream

From @trixxiephantomhive for @airi-p4: Violin Valentine

From @verfound for @justknitstuff: The Rocking Epic of Lukas Stone and His Lady Faire

From @writerriderdirtythirties for @alwaysawkwardd: Figured it Out (Finally!)

#LBSCExchange2023 #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #pro lukamari

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fragileizywriting · 9 months

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i read one of the best, cutest oneshots for lukanette today by @mintaka14 (sorry i don’t want to tag you on this but i also really want to praise you for the astounding work you did) and i’m sitting here on my bed laying down thinking about how much i miss writing lukanette (i literally wrote something like a week ago for it why am i pretending that it’s been 8 thousand years) i am full of yearning and AHHHHUHHHHHGGGHHH I WANT

#speakizys

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miraculouscontent · 2 years

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Anonymous asked:

Well, the Bible already got right the plot of Evolution and Multiplication ( from the looks of Gloob's trailer anyway ). About the inconsistencies from it, well, that's just up for the bar for this show.

Yeah, it’s looking legit, at least so far. I probably wouldn’t be talking about it otherwise.

Anonymous asked:

(the bible: exists. me: n o) i cant. I m. not surprised? but you know, still kinda disappointed/resigned. this has been a constant wave of a show when it comes to what the actual show has given us VS what we thought it'd be and then didn't rise to the expectations but Man! I didn't think reading what is coming– that it'd make me more than certain that I won't watch the show again, keep away and only consume fan content

I mean, fan content is pretty much what’s good now. The show wouldn’t even be where it is without the fans.

...Okay I meant that in a “the fans kept the fandom alive and brought all the headcanons to cover for what the show lacks,” but I also realized that it could’ve been interpreted as the show just stealing fan ideas, which... well, I mean--

mintaka14 asked:

I'm finding the whole bible leak thing hilarious. The suggestion that there is any sort of cohesive plan for any of the show at this point is hysterically funny.

lol the idea of their being a bible at all makes it even more baffling. “How’d you guys write any sort of outline or guide and still screw it up?

Remember back in the old days where video game strategy guides were way more inaccurate? Like that, but Miraculous.

#category: salt #salt: writing #other: ml spoilers #other: ml leaks #other: MLS5bible

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nerdypanda3126 · 1 year

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Playing with Fire – Ch. 10

Hiii! lol this story isn't dead or abandoned, I promise! 😁 Huge thanks to @verfound for the eternal bog conversation 😆 and to @mintaka14 for betaing this chapter! 💖

Jagged catches up with Tom and Sabine, Marinette and Luka start their search, and Juleka has an unexpected visitor.

Read on Ao3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

As Jagged made his way through the little town on the way to Luka’s tower, he noticed instantly that something was wrong.

For one thing, the bakery was closed.

And for another, not one person asked him about his new mandolin, or told him to stop playing.

Everyone just seemed… jumpy. On edge. Watching each other out of the corner of their eyes.

He stashed his mandolin on his back and shoved his way into the bakery door, despite it being closed. Tom and Sabine had never had an issue with his visits, considering he was a regular, one of the King’s Wizards, and always bought huge quantities of their bread.

Instead of the bright, booming laugh he’d come to expect, though, he was greeted by Tom’s big hands shoving him back out.

“No bread today,” he growled, “just like yesterday and the day before that. Not until the people of this town apologize.”

“Wait, whoa, hold up!” Jagged yelled as he stuck his hands and feet in the doorway to prevent being shoved out. There was a harsh crack of wood behind him and he groaned as he realized his brand new mandolin was probably broken at the neck. Again. “I’m here as a friend!”

The hands pushing him out were pulled away and Jagged turned his head to look. Tom had taken two huge steps back and was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry, there, Jagged, I guess I thought…”

Jagged relaxed and slipped the mandolin from around his neck to assess the damage. Snapped completely in half, strings ripped apart… geez, how much brute strength did the guy have anyways? Luckily he knew the repair spell by heart and he forced the wood back together to perform it.

“Now then,” he said when he finished, “what’s going on in this town?”

Sabine scuttled forward with a cup of tea and she laid a hand on Tom’s arm as she set the cup on the table and invited Jagged to sit. He waved her off and the couple shared an uncomfortable look.

“Marinette was here,” Sabine started carefully, “...with Luka.”

Jagged snorted. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“Sure, great leapin’ lizard shows up outta nowhere. ‘Course people are scared.”

“Well, no, he wasn’t… he looked human, it was just…”

“He’s not,” Jagged completed simply. “And people don’t like what they don’t understand. Can’t understand.” His own brow furrowed with the thought. Wizards hadn't been all that acceptable at first, either, until the King realized they were useful. Still left a bitter taste in Jagged's mouth.

“There was some sort of stand off in the town square,” Sabine continued. “They both escaped, but the townspeople… well…”

“They formed a bloody mob and went after them!” Tom thundered. Sabine laid a hand on his forearm and he quieted.

“We tried to explain, it was out of self-defense, but no one would listen to us.”

“Then they wanted bread the next day like they hadn’t just gone after my family,” Tom growled.

"Wait, they went after them?" Jagged asked, his attention snapping back to Sabine. "What do you mean 'they went after them'? What happened?"

Tom let out a little snort of laughter and sat to cover his chortles. It made Jagged feel somewhat better that he was laughing and not distraught, but the question remained.

"They weren't there," Sabine explained, with a fond sidelong glance to Tom. "We went up with them to try to do something, or convince someone. They'd already left, but—"

"My daughter's a genius," Tom managed between laughs.

"The townspeople heard one wail and ran. Turns out Marinette had strung some armor up. When the wind blew through it, it sounded like some sort of moan, and it made the townspeople think the tower was cursed."

Jagged blinked at Sabine, then at Tom, who was still laughing. Sabine just shrugged, smiling a little, and finally Jagged let out a whooping laugh.

"That's my little baker's girl!" He nudged Tom's shoulder good-naturedly and they fell into laughing together. When they finally stopped, Jagged had to wipe some tears from his eyes. "I can definitely work with that," he said, grinning. Sabine and Tom exchanged a nervous, knowing look.

"No enchanted bogs, Jagged."

"I would never—that was—" Jagged spluttered indignantly. "That was one time!"

"Once was enough, thank you," Sabine said curtly. He rolled his eyes at her and pulled out his mandolin to pluck a few lines.

"Just because that mayor's daughter fell into it doesn't mean—"

Sabine silenced him with a look. He couldn't help grinning, though, as he nodded and clamped his lips shut.

Later, when he made his way up to the tower, he realized what Sabine and Tom had been talking about. The air was filled with unearthly wails and moans that sounded like the dead had been raised, along with the tell-tale clink of empty armor against the trees. Through the greenery, he spotted one of Marinette's rabbit traps holding up a cuirass and he had to smile. Tom was right. Genius.

Jagged rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles as he decided how best to enhance Marinette's plan. A few simple rune traps would add to the effect. Nothing big, just some eerie mist, maybe a spectral form here or there… When they were stepped on they would activate and the whole thing would work like a "keep out" sign for suspicious villagers.

When he'd finished the perimeter, he stood back to admire his work, then turned his attention to the tower. Luka would've left a note, he was sure of it, explaining things. That's the way the kid was. He liked to have things buttoned up and tidied away. He would've said goodbye.

When he did climb the tower, he found the small blue flower that Luka had left, preserved with a little bit of magic Jagged had taught him and kept in place by a stone. When he opened the note, it was blank except for the words, "Thanks for everything."

But, thanks to the preserved flower, Jagged knew exactly what to do to find his real message.

He crumbled the flower and blew the resulting powder into the paper. The residual magic stuck to the encoded words and shimmered a glittery blue in the fading afternoon light.

Jagged, it read, we're headed west into the forest. I'll leave a trail for you so you can come visit wherever we end up.

You've probably already helped Marinette with her idea. If I can ask one more thing of you, there's a trapdoor hidden in the floor in the back of this room. I'm not as skilled in magic as you are, so I couldn't protect the door with anything but a simple lock charm. I know you'll come up with something better.

No enchanted bogs.

Jagged rolled his eyes. Seriously it was one time! Why was everyone so focused on the one time he tried a new spell and turned the entire town into an eternal bog. It wasn't even eternal—the whole thing only lasted a month or so, although, well, the smell did linger a while longer.

He looked around and found the door Luka had mentioned. While it would be hard to find for anyone who wasn't looking, he understood why Luka would want it protected. Those books of his were his life while he'd been here. He looked back to the note and there were only two lines left.

Until I see you again, Luka.

P.S. Don't worry, I'll take care of her.

Jagged smiled as the last line thrummed with a magic Luka probably hadn't intended. He really had to teach that boy about the way love and magic so often coincided.

Although he had a feeling that Luka was starting to discover that for himself.

***

"Dragon?" the merchant asked, rubbing his chin in thought. "No, none of those in these parts. Heard tell of one the next village over, though. 'Round a tower. King's offered some gold for its head if memory serves."

Marinette offered him a tight-lipped smile in return as she paid, conscious of Luka's tense energy beside her.

She turned, handed him the gloves, and pulled at his shirt to prompt him to walk away. He followed, albeit stiffly.

"Luka, I told you already, no one knows it's you they're talking about."

"Doesn't make it any easier," he grumbled back. But he glanced down at his forearms that were still covered in scales despite their stones and tugged the leather gloves on anyway. "Besides, I doubt anyone around here will know where to find Jules. We keep to ourselves, really, and if it hadn't been for my incident I doubt anyone would've even known dragons were still out there."

When he held up his hands to show her what the gloves looked like on him, she glanced over them in approval, then frowned in thought and reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

"Nothing we can do about these, I guess."

"Or the teeth," he added, smirking for effect.

“Or the teeth,” she agreed fondly. “I guess just don’t… smile at anyone for now.”

A dry chuckle slid out from between his clenched teeth as his eyes darted around the square they were in, on guard and suspicious, taking note of the people still around them. "Not a problem, love."

She tipped up and kissed the edge of his jaw, which surprised him enough to jar him out of his rigid paranoia and turn that soft look on her. For good measure, she brushed his hair out of his eyes again, more to trail her fingers along his cheeks and down the sides of his neck than because she wanted to see the bright blue of his eyes match the blue of the stone at his neck.

Something ignited in his gaze as he looked at her and she blushed as she pulled her hands away. She'd never felt in danger with Luka before, but that look was definitely dangerous.

"Come on," she muttered, lacing her fingers through his and tugging him along. "There are still some people we can ask, and maybe we can find a place to stay tonight."

***

Juleka startled to attention as footsteps resounded in the empty space of the cave she'd hunkered down in for the time being. It wasn't as cozy as other places, but there was a village nearby that was too close for comfort and she preferred to keep her distance. Stay invisible. Stay alive. That'd been her saving grace for as long as she'd been on her own.

Arguably, she was young for a dragon to be by herself, but without Luka to smooth the waters between them, Juleka and her mother were… inflammatory.

She thought she'd done well enough, but the human stumbling into her cave proved her very wrong. The tiny thing looked up with bleary blue eyes under a fringe of bright blonde hair and gave Juleka a wobbly smile.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice weak, "I just… I'm so tired… I need to…" She didn't even finish the sentence before her knees gave out from under her and, without thinking, Juleka darted towards her to catch her with an armored claw. The sprite of a human gave her a thankful little smile, snuggled into her scales, and promptly fell asleep.

Juleka lowered her head to check that the human was still breathing, careful not to transfer her fire. Luka's mistake had been drilled into her head and she knew—she knew—that if a dragon shared their fire they shared their life. It wasn't worth it, her mother had said, giving up the freedom of the skies for anyone or anything.

Not that Juleka wanted to. Looking at the tiny, helpless thing in her arms that she could easily swipe aside without another thought—protect herself and protect her secret—she couldn't see why a dragon would ever bother with them. If it weren't for Luka's accident, she knew he wouldn't have chosen a human.

Still, she had to admit, the way the blonde's eyelashes fluttered in her sleep was… maybe a little cute.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #jagged stone #sorcerer!jagged #tom and sabine Dupain-Cheng #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #dragon!luka #juleka couffaine #dragon!juleka #rose lavillant #LBSC Exchange 2021 #fic title: playing with fire

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alwaysawkwardd · 1 year

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Happy Valentine's Day! This was written for @mintaka14 I hope you like it!!! @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers

#endgame lukanette #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #pro lukamari #pro lukanette #valentine's 2023 #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug

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quickspinner · 28 days

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Do you have any hidden gem fics or lesser known authors you would recommend for Lukanette?

I'm not going to lie, it's way easier to call to mind friends' fics so the same names tend to pop up when I'm trying to think of recommendations, so this is a great question. I don't really want to claim these are 'hidden gems' or 'lesser known authors' just because they're not in the circle of authors I hear from and talk to frequently, so let's put it this way: here's some works I love that haven't come up in the recs I've been asked for recently.

(full disclosure some of them are still written by friends 😂 but may be older or don't get as much love as I think they deserve)

I don't know tumblr names for most of these authors so I can't tag them but if you recognize your fic here and would like to be tagged, shoot me a message or leave a reply and I'll edit the post to add it.

A Discordant Song by Bounemr (this one is not heavy on the lukanette but I still love it)

Standing Here All Alone by Thistle_and_Thorns

Cherry Blossoms at Midnight by FrivolousFlare

The Feel of Music by Renigan

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe by @goldenlaurelleaveswrites

Drunk Talks (and Sober Confessions) by @chrwrites

Saltinette by @freedom-shamrock

if you know, you know by RenderedReversed

i'm in a world apart (a world where roses bloom) by nonbinarynino (STILL one of my absolute favorite ever stories)

In Vino Veritas by Marie_Chambers

The Hope of it All by Marie_Chambers

Crowned by @semi-slaughtomatic

Five-Minute Time Machine by L3245

Wingwoman by @mintaka14

So, You Met Tchaikovsky? by @mamanabeille

The Swan Song of One Marinette Dupain-Cheng by Wolfsbaene

the reason you stay by @eat0crow

Ewww... Not even dead by @bloody-writes

Acmé by @astronavigatrix

Or I could Just Kiss You... by @livrever

Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang (Lukanette Week 2019) by @semi-slaughtomatic

Brave New World: Lukanette Week 2019 by seasonofthegeek

Chai Tea and Fresh Starts by @freedom-shamrock (I still looooove this one)

Awards and Appreciation by whatarubberchicken

music to knit a broken heart by Nanimok

In Between the Metro by damagectrl

Okay, disclaimer on this one: It is adrienette endgame, but I enjoy the Lukanette part of it so much that I'm listing it anyway. When I reread, I just stop before they breakup. I don't know that this kind of recommendation would actually be appreciated, so apologies to the author. 😂 More of What Was Once Mine by RavenclawPianist

Oooh and I haven't read this one myself yet but friends are gushing about it so I'm reccing it based on that: Hunted by the Night Light by hislittlelady (NSFW)

Have fun! and be sure to leave the authors a comment, I'm sure they'd love it.

#fic recs #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng

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airi-p4 · 1 year

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I posted 2,137 times in 2022

264 posts created (12%)

1,873 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quickspinner

@nerdypanda3126

@mintaka14

@ladyfreya123

@airi-p4

I tagged 1,950 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#lukanette fic - 472 posts

#endgame lukanette - 466 posts

#lukanette - 337 posts

#pro lukamari - 271 posts

#marinette - 213 posts

#airip4 - 167 posts

#luka - 149 posts

#my art - 109 posts

#lukanette comic - 82 posts

#ver fic - 77 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#this is my opinion- if adrien was treated differently i think i'd still like him but what we get in canon.... well... *sigh*

My Top Posts in 2022:

🌙✨

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

464 notes - Posted July 31, 2022

Kuro Neko Fix-it

*Inspired by this Clarity’s fantastic rant video*

497 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

I love these siblings 💙

1,009 notes - Posted March 4, 2022

1,033 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

1,680 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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mintaka14 · 9 months

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Here's a bit of Lukanette fun. This is a Dammit!Ver fic and I blame her for throwing the prompt at me. I also blame the LBSC crowd for their enabling and support, and for the icecream flavour suggestions, and for playing along with suggestions of which fabrics Luka should never wear. Enjoy!

Dating Sucks

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

“Dating sucks, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and curled up around one of his pillows. The moment she’d said it, she could have bitten out her tongue.

Up on deck, Rose and Ivan were still bickering about a drum solo (“You’re going to have to face the spotlight sometime, Ivan, you’re too awesome to keep hiding at the back, and Biker Unicorns from Mars needs a drum solo going into the bridge!”) while Juleka interjected her laconic opinions from time to time. About the point when Luka bowed out of the argument, though, Marinette had followed him down into his cabin, and dropped into her usual place on his bed.

More often than not, when she turned up at the Liberty, she ended up on Luka’s bed, sketching, or talking with Luka, or just listening to him playing something on his guitar that sounded like all the complicated thoughts in her head.

Luka was the one she could talk to about anything and everything. Except her love life.

There was too much history between them to make her feel anything but awkward telling him about the guys she dated, no matter how close she and Luka had become since their one attempt to be something more had crashed and burned.

And she was pretty sure that telling a guy she used to date that dating sucked was bad.

He didn’t seem upset by it, though. He was sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent to support his guitar as he idly tinkered with a tune he’d been working on, but at her words, he glanced up.

“I take it the last one didn’t go well,” he said mildly, and she buried her face in his pillow to muffle her groan.

“Or the one before that,” she muttered, “or before that, or… dating sucks. I never know what to say, and you know how stressed out I get when I start overthinking stuff.”

“It wasn’t that bad when we were dating, was it?” Luka asked, and Marinette pulled the pillow down to look at him.

“Don’t you remember all the times I flaked out on you, or disappeared, or… did we ever get to even finish a date together? I’m amazed you even still talk to me.”

“Yeah, but that was because…” Luka trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence, but his hands had stilled on the guitar strings, and he was frowning a little with his eyes still on her. “At least you don’t have akumas breaking things up now.”

“I almost wish I did,” Marinette muttered. “Dating sucks.”

“It doesn’t have to.” There was a long silence, and Luka looked as if he was trying to make up his mind about something, then he lifted the guitar from his lap and put it aside. He got to his feet and held out his hand to Marinette. “Come on, Melody. You can tell me all about it while we go get icecream.”

The argument about the drum solo seemed to have been resolved in their absence. Ivan was idly twirling his drumsticks, and Rose was slumped against Juleka on one of the deck chairs, but they all looked up as Luka and Marinette emerged onto the deck.

“Where are you going?” Juleka asked when they headed for the gangplank. “We were going to start rehearsing again in a minute.”

“You’ll have to cope without me. We’re going to go get icecream,” Luka told her, and Rose sat up abruptly. Her wide blue eyes flickered between Luka and Marinette, and she gave an excited little squeak.

“Ooh! Are you – ow! What was that for?” She turned to pout at Juleka, whose foot retreated under her skirts again.

“Like we actually need you,” Juleka muttered in her brother’s direction. “Have fun, loser.”

“I always do, monster child,” Luka shot back amiably, and tugged Marinette down the gangplank before anyone could say anything else.

As they walked slowly along the banks of the Seine, he coaxed the latest disaster out of her, and the history of her failed dates before that. When she’d spilled out all the inner workings of her terrible love life, Marinette let out a faint sigh, and Luka glanced down at her.

There were times when she wished that she hadn’t met him until after that final battle, when she had the chance of a life back and they might have had a chance to make it work between them, instead of blowing her chances with him when Ladybug had to come first. Except she wasn’t sure she would have made it through those years without Luka’s friendship. She was even less sure that Ladybug would have survived to defeat Monarch, and the villains that followed him, without Viperion’s steady presence and Luka’s silent support.

“That’s a lot of bad dates,” he said.

“I’m giving up on the whole concept. It just never works.” Marinette sighed again. “Half of them, I didn’t even want to go on in the first place.”

“Then why do you say yes?” Luka asked, but he didn’t sound judgemental, just curious, and when Marinette glanced up at him he was watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. “Have you met Alya? I have a best friend who’s decided it’s her mission in life to set me up with a boyfriend so I can live happily ever after and go on double dates with her and Nino, and it’s easier to just go along with it. And who know? Maybe she’s right, and I’m just not trying hard enough.”

“Or maybe she should be letting you find your own dates,” he said, his tone unreadable. It looked like he was going to say something else, but then his gaze shifted past her, his mouth quirking up, and she realised they’d reached the Sweetheart Icecream Cart.

“Want to risk Andre’s choice?” he asked her in an undervoice, and grinned at her as she gave the cart a dubious glance.

“Is that wise? The last few times he’s chosen for me, it… hasn’t gone well.”

“I’m curious to see just how bad it can be now.”

Marinette laughed at that. “When we get a scoop of sardines and pizza, it’s on your head, remember that,” she warned him, still giggling, as he took her hand and drew her forward into the crowd around the cart.

Marinette was more focused on the feel of her hand in Luka’s when he didn’t let her go. She was almost disappointed when they reached the front, and Luka released her hand to dig through his pockets for some cash. Andre gave them a big, beaming smile.

She tried not to react to Andre’s flowery predictions of true love and a sweet heart, but the tiny, sidelong grin Luka shot her as Andre scooped out the blueberry and violet icecream suggested that he’d heard her soft snort.

“So, is dating something you’re actually opposed to,” Luka said curiously, as he took the Sweetheart Sundae that Andre handed him and led Marinette back to the low stone wall alongside the path.

“Not in theory,” she admitted. She scooped out a mouthful of icecream, and waited until she’d swallowed it before she added, “It just never seems to go well for me. Like, the whole sweetheart icecream thing? I remember when I used to think that was the most romantic thing you could do on a date.”

“What happened to change your mind?”

“I ended up with a few too many weird flavour choices,” Marinette told him. “The last time I came here on a date, I was here with a boy from Alya’s journalism class that she tried to set me up with, and Andre gave me tangerine for his hair, and peanut butter icecream for his nutty sense of humour.” Marinette rolled her eyes, and Luka smothered a snort of laughter.

“And was he funny?”

“He didn’t crack a smile the whole time, although that may have had more to do with being compared to a tangerine, or maybe because tangerine and peanut butter just tastes weird together. But even that was better than the time Andre gave me two scoops of coffee icecream, to go with my dark and mysterious soul.”

Luka nearly choked on the spoonful he’d just put in his mouth.

“My date that time kept giving me weird looks, until I panicked and told him I had to go home because I’d left the iron on. I’m pretty sure at this point that the whole sweetheart combination thing is more about whatever flavour Andre’s trying to shift that day,” Marinette said, and waited until Luka had recovered himself before she offered him the sundae again. “Don’t tell me you buy into the whole Sweetheart Icecream thing.”

Luka gave a wry smile. “I don’t really think anyone should be taking relationship advice from frozen milk.”

“And yet, you brought me to Andre’s cart,” Marinette pointed out. Although this wasn’t a date, so it probably wasn’t going to draw down the bad luck her love life seemed to attract.

“Well, it is delicious frozen milk,” he said with a grin. He dug out a piece of candied violet and licked it off his spoon. “And he was onto something with the whole blueberry for your bright blue eyes, and violet for the sweetness in your heart line.”

“Luka!” Marinette could feel herself blushing as she giggled at the compliment. She focused on the icecream as her cheeks flamed hotter under his gaze, and then flicked a glance up at him through her lashes.

“He could have been talking about you, you know,” she suggested, and felt a little thrill as Luka ducked his head, his face hidden by the blue fall of his hair, but not before she caught a hint of colour creeping up his neck too. She buried her mischievous little smile in another spoonful of icecream, stealing glances at him as she ate.

She had to admit that her experiences with Andre’s Sweetheart Icecream weren’t all bad, although come to think of it, that first icecream she’d shared with Luka hadn’t really been a date either. It had been just before they’d gone on an official date, and it had been with all their friends. But it had been nice, she thought wistfully.

It was getting dark by the time they finished the icecream and started to slowly wander in the direction of home. The route that they took was not the most direct one back to Marinette’s place, but neither of them suggested a shorter path when they ended up taking the long way alongside the river, and circling the park instead of cutting through it. When they finally reached her door, she hesitated on the doorstep.

The light from the bakery window cast a glow over the dark street, turning Luka’s blue hair a deeper colour, and catching in the dark depths of his eyes as he watched her. She put her hand on the door, but didn’t open it.

“Thank you for the icecream, Luka” she said, feeling oddly reluctant for the night to end, “and for letting me vent about my dating disasters.”

Luka ducked his head, an odd little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He glanced up at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to say something, but then he simply said, “Sleep well, Melody.”

He turned to go, and Marinette’s hand stayed on the door handle as she watched him walk away. Before he reached the corner, he pivoted.

“Marinette,” he called back to her. “Want to come shopping for new guitar strings tomorrow? That fabric shop next door has a sale on, and maybe we could go there afterwards.”

Marinette found herself beaming at him.

“You had me at fabric shop,” she called back, and he lit up with a grin, his eyes still on her as he started walking backwards. “What time?”

“Call me when you’re awake,” he suggested, and when she nodded, he spun around and kept walking. Marinette watched until he’d disappeared around the corner, and then she went upstairs to bed, feeling inexplicably lighter in spite of her disastrous love life.

She was up earlier than usual the next morning, and her mother’s startled expression when Marinette whirled into the shop changed to a knowing smile when she caught a glimpse through the window of Luka waiting outside. He had his head down, listening to his earbuds, but he looked up hopefully every time the shop door opened and the bell chimed.

“Enjoy your date,” Sabine said fondly, as Marinette dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek. Marinette didn’t bother to correct her. Instead, she snatched up a couple of croissants as a substitute for breakfast, and hurried out the door before her mother could misinterpret the way her cheeks glowed pink.

Luka looked up again as the bell jangled, and smiled when he saw her. She handed one of the croissants to Luka.

“You’re going to need fortification if you’re coming to Marché St Pierre with me,” she warned a little anxiously, but Luka laughed.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“And you have to tell me if I’m taking too long,” she persisted. “Alya hates it when I sort of tend to lose track of time in there…”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted gently, “it’s okay. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to go.”

Finding the new strings that Luka needed didn’t take long at all, even when Marinette tried to prod Luka into trying out the beautiful guitar that he was eyeing off. At her coaxing, he played a few bars of something that drew the rapt attention of everyone in the shop, but then he set the guitar aside and drew her towards the fabric shop next door, and Marinette was distracted from all thoughts of guitars and music.

She drifted between the aisles, running her fingertips over the rolls of satin and lace, and it was easy to lose track of the time without Alya’s impatient huffs behind her, or pointed comments about how much more fabric do you actually need, Marinette?

If Luka was bored, there wasn’t any hint of it in the questions he asked from time to time, or the way he tilted his head to listen as she wandered off into impassioned and rambling lectures about the history of style and the fashion industry. He did eventually suggest that maybe it might be time to get some lunch, and Marinette looked up from the two shades of blue linen she was agonising over, startled to realise that it was well into the afternoon and she was starving.

“I’m so sorry I lost track of the time,” she said guiltily when they found a café. A waitress slid burgers and fried potato in front of them, and Marinette glanced down at the huge bag of fabric beside her chair. “We’ve spent this whole time just looking at stuff for me.”

“Hey, I got stuff too.” Luka reached into his pocket and held up the packet of strings as evidence. “I just like spending time with you, Melody. Is that so hard to believe?”

There was a long silence, and Marinette focused on the food in front of her rather than responding. When she glanced up, Luka was still watching her, a faint frown between his eyes.

“What on earth is wrong with all these guys Alya’s been setting you up with?” he said absently, almost as if he didn’t realise he was speaking out loud. Marinette gave an awkward shrug.

“There’s nothing wrong with them. It’s me. I suck at dating, and it’s never any fun for anyone involved.”

“Hey, I’m having fun,” Luka protested, his frown lightening as his lips quirked up in a smile. “And going to Marché St Pierre with you was educational. I know all about why I shouldn’t ever wear lamé. I know what lamé is now,” he grinned.

He’d held up the slippery, yellow-green fabric and asked if it would suit him, just to see her react, and by the time she’d finished the scathing lecture about the fabric composition, lack of breathability, the colour, and how awful lamé was to work with, he’d been trying so hard not to laugh, and she couldn’t help giggling at him in response.

“That was not quality lamé,” she sniffed. “And I’m not going to start another rant about that again. I’ve already bored you enough for one day.”

His grin grew wider. “I like watching you getting excited about things.”

“You can’t seriously tell me you wanted to spend the whole day trying to help me choose between the cotton voile and lawn,” she accused, pointing a fry at him before she popped it in her mouth. “You don’t even know what the difference is.”

“I’ve been paying attention,” he protested, and stole another piece of fried potato from her plate. “And you’re having fun now, aren’t you?” he asked, returning to their original topic, and he nudged her foot under the table. “Unless that’s a grin of terror.”

She giggled, and then sighed. “Yeah, but that’s different. Spending time with you doesn’t make me so anxious that I want to throw up.”

“It’s probably not a good idea to date someone who makes you want to throw up,” he agreed. “You must have had some good dates, though. They can’t have all been universally awful. What was the best date you ever went on?”

Marinette fell silent and chewed on her lip for a moment, her gaze focused on the salt cellar as she lined it up carefully with the edge of her plate. Without looking up, she admitted, “Crocodile Heart.”

“Seriously?” Luka said in disbelief.

She didn’t blame him. She’d ditched him to deal with an akuma attack, just when he’d been about to kiss her, and left him sitting there on his own in the movie theatre. She’d been an awful girlfriend, and the movie probably brought up bad memories for him, but… she’d been having the best time with him, before the akuma interrupted everything and screwed up her life.

He was lost in thought as he walked her home, but the slow, sweet smile he gave her when he said goodbye left her feeling warm, and even running late for school the next morning couldn’t put a dent in her mood.

“You’re in a good mood this morning. Did you have a date yesterday?” Alya whispered at her as Marinette slid hastily into the seat beside her, and Marinette screwed up her nose at her friend.

“No more dates. Dating sucks, and I’m swearing off the whole idea. I’m probably going to die alone,” she sighed, but she felt too cheerful to be really dismayed at the thought.

Somewhere behind her, Marinette heard a muffled squeak. When she glanced behind her, she saw Juleka with her hand over Rose’s mouth, and Rose turning a little pink. Juleka waved Marinette away before she could ask what was going on, and Marinette turned back to face the front, frowning. Alya poked her in the ribs, pulling her attention back from whatever Rose and Juleka were up to.

“But you went out yesterday,” Alya prodded, and Marinette couldn’t help the smile that crept over her face again.

“I just had a good day yesterday. There was a sale on at Marché St Pierre, and I got some beautiful voile that’s going to make a gorgeous blouse, or maybe a summer dress if I can come up with the right idea for it, and -”

“That’s what you’re grinning about?” Alya teased, rolling her eyes. “A fabric sale? Girl, you’re hopeless.”

“Like you didn’t spend weeks going on about how good the new graphics software for the Ladyblog was,” Marinette whispered back. “I think Nino was starting to get jealous.”

“Yeah, but that was –“ Alya broke off as their teacher cleared her throat and gave them a pointed look.

The moment that the bell rang for the end of the day, though, Alya took up the argument again.

“So, there’s this guy that Nino knows from –“

“Alya,” Marinette groaned as she shouldered her school bag, and her best friend followed her out of the classroom and down into the quadrangle.

“You can’t just give up on love like this,” Alya insisted. “And he’s really cute. You’d be great together, and it’s just one –“

“No more dates,” Marinette said emphatically, and pushed through the main doors. At the bottom of the steps, she could see a familiar head of blue hair, and she felt an odd little kick in her pulse.

“Fine, no dates,” Alya was grumbling somewhere behind her. “But if you change your mind, call me. Later, girl.”

Luka was leaning against the streetlight just below the school steps. He had earphones in, one foot propped against the light post and tapping along with whatever he was listening to, but he looked up as students started streaming past him, and Marinette paused at the top of the steps, just watching him for a minute. He was there for his sister, she knew, but his mouth quirked up in a smile when he caught sight of her, and she gave him a little wave in response.

Juleka stomped past her down the steps, muttering something that Marinette couldn’t hear over the chatter around her. As Juleka reached him, Luka reached out to pull his sister into a hug, but his eyes shifted back to find Marinette again.

“You go on ahead,” she heard him say, as Juleka ducked away and pulled a face. “I just need to ask Marinette something.”

She came down the steps as headed in her direction.

“Marinette, are you free Saturday night?” he asked, and Marinette looked up in surprise. His voice was as calm as ever, and he was smiling at her, but there was a hint of tension in him that she wasn’t used to seeing while he waited for her response.

She’d given up on Saturday night dates, so of course she was free. Hanging out with Luka was much more fun than any date, anyway.

“I don’t have anything on. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“What is it?” she asked, but Luka just gave her an enigmatic smile, and shook his head.

“You’ll see.”

The problem with not knowing where they were going, or what Luka wanted to show her, was that it made choosing an appropriate outfit very difficult. Were they going to be inside or outdoors? Would she need sensible shoes? What if she wore the wrong thing? And she knew that Luka would always say that whatever she was comfortable with was fine, but she was still second guessing her choice, and whether she was too dressed up, when her phone chimed on Saturday with Luka’s message that he was downstairs.

It was too late to change, and she snatched up her handbag and flew down to open the door for him, a little breathless.

Luka straightened, his eyes widening a little as he took her in.

“Wow,” he said softly.

Marinette smoothed a nervous hand down the floaty layers of her dress. It was something she’d always planned to wear on a date one day, but that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. She’d decided that it was a shame to let it go to waste. And it felt nice to have someone look at her like that.

It felt good to have Luka looking at her like that.

She glanced up at him. “Do you like it?”

Luka swallowed, and said a little roughly, “I’m feeling a little underdressed now. You look stunning, Melody.”

“It’s not too much for… wherever we’re going?”

“It’s perfect,” he reassured her. He refused to tell her, though, what they were doing. He just smiled at her as she teased him over dinner about where he was planning to take her.

“And we had to get dinner first?” she asked, one eyebrow arching.

“I was hungry, and there won’t be anything to see for a while yet. Not until it’s properly dark.”

“A clue!” she said excitedly, and she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing at him. “So it’s something after dark… you’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

Luka laughed. “No, that would be Juleka.”

“So it’s not a secret vampire lair?” She pouted, and Luka snorted, but his eyes were fond on her.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he grinned, and glanced out the window at the slowly darkening sky. “We’ve got time before we need to go – did you want dessert?”

Marinette was so busy trading tastes of his brȗlée with her Baba au Rhum, and trying to coax more clues out of Luka, that she hadn’t even realised how late it was getting until Luka put down his spoon.

“I think it’s dark enough now. Let me know when you’re ready,” he said, and Marinette glanced up, startled. The only light outside the little restaurant was the warm glow of the street lights and the glittering neon of shop signs. When Marinette put aside her own empty dish, Luka stood and offered her his hand.

He kept her hand in his as he led her out of the restaurant and they slowly strolled along the street. There was a comfortable silence between them, and Marinette was very conscious of the feel of his hand around hers. She wished it could always be like this.

Marinette thought Luka was leading her towards the Trocadéro, so when he turned into a little side street, she glanced up in surprise. He turned his head to give her a soft smile.

“Not far now,” he offered. “Are you okay to walk a bit further?”

“Of course. I just wish I knew where you were taking me.”

His smile grew a bit impish. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

He stopped in front of a high, ornate, iron fence. In the dim light filtering down from the windows across the narrow alleyway, and the streetlight back on the corner, Marinette could make out bicycle wheels woven into the spokes of the fence, and a motley collection of objects embedded in the gate that Luka was holding open for her.

“What is this?” she asked.

All Luka said was, “Come in and find out.”

She followed him through the gate and into the space beyond.

Marinette was barely aware of the quiet snick of the gate shutting behind her as the soft darkness enveloped them. Luka’s hand in hers led her forward and around a bend in the path under her feet, and then her vision adjusted, leaving her open-mouthed and staring as the darkness bloomed.

There were trees overhead, the branches dancing with fairylights in the night breeze, and coloured lights glimmered among the shrubs that clustered around the path. She could make out the glowing shapes of fantastical lantern creatures lurking among the flowers, and the darker shadows of even more fantastical sculptures that had been formed out of old pots and pipes and rubbish.

The tiny lights twined their way through a tunnel of bicycle parts and junk that was somehow transmuted by the soft, flickering points of light into something that felt like a fairy bazaar, and when she looked down, the golden shimmer skittered over a beautiful mosaic of tiles and pieces of glass and pottery shards that spiralled and wove through this enchanted artists’ garden.

And as her eyes were drawn back up again, everywhere there were dragonflies and butterflies made of golden lights and glass and every kind of metal, settled in the trees and the shrubs and drawing lines of light in the dark night air as the breeze moved them.

“Oh, Luka,” she breathed.

His fingers squeezed her hand gently, but he said nothing, simply letting her draw him with her as she slowly drifted through the garden, taking it all in.

“How on earth did you find this place?” she asked eventually, her voice hushed and almost afraid to break the tranquil enchantment around them.

“I stumbled across it one night when I was on my way home from a gig,” he said just as quietly. “I took a short cut through the alley, and somehow ended up in here. I thought you might like it.”

“Oh, Luka,” she repeated, and let go of his hand to throw her arms around him.

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then his arms closed around her. They stayed like that for a long, perfect moment, and Marinette wished it could go on forever. When he slowly released her, though, Marinette let him go, but her eyes were shining in the shimmer of the fairylights and coloured lanterns as she looked up at him.

“Thank you.”

She turned in a dawdling circle, taking in the twinkling lights among the trees and the shadows, and the way it caught on the sculptures and mosaics. The warm night air felt rich with the scent of jasmine, and charged with the electricity of art and creation, and Marinette drew in a slow, deep breath until she felt full with it.

“This is… magic,” she said, and her voice was hushed.

Luka’s smile was strangely wistful as he took her hand again. “You deserve a bit of magic,” he said softly. “You make so much of it for everyone else.”

Marinette felt like she was almost floating by the time they reached the bakery again, and as she said goodnight to Luka, she lifted on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and then fled inside.

It was hard to hide her euphoric mood, and even Alya’s pointed comments couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

“… Seriously, Mari, what’s gotten into you lately?” Alya asked as they followed the rest of the girls back to the Liberty for Sunday study and gossip. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me?”

Marinette managed to deflect the question as they reached the boat, reluctant to tell Alya all about the artists’ garden. She didn’t think that Alya would understand just how special that garden was, and trying to explain it to her would only diminish the moment somehow.

It hadn’t just been the garden, a sly little voice suggested.

She didn’t really notice the odd looks the girls were giving her, and she tuned out of what Alya was saying. She could hear the sounds of Luka moving around in the kitchen, out of sight, and humming a soft tune, and she was trying to work out what it was.

“… Marinette?”

“Hmm?”

“Marinette!” Rose said more insistently, and Marinette turned her head to find Rose with her chin propped on her hands and her bright blue eyes fixed on Marinette. “So, how was your date last Saturday?” she asked meaningfully.

Alya broke off what she’d been saying to turn a frown on Marinette. “I thought you’d sworn off dating.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a date,” she said, ignoring Rose’s huff of disbelief. “Luka just wanted to show me this place he’d found, and… and we got dinner…” Like they’d got lunch together after they’d been shopping, and icecream before that, after the walk along the river, and really, the gardens last night would have been a perfect date, with the fairylights and magic in the air, if they were… “Sonofa-!“

Rose was giving her a smug grin, and Marinette started swearing, creatively and fluently, ignoring the shocked looks from the rest of the girls, and the way Juleka’s mouth quirked up behind her curtain of hair.

Just because Marinette didn’t usually swear didn’t mean she didn’t know how to, and sometimes a bit of profanity was in order.

“That conniving…”

“Luka’s not conniving,” Mylene objected.

“Oh, he totally is,” Juleka muttered back.

“You went on a date with Luka??” Alya practically shrieked.

“…sneaky, tricky, scheming, devious… Couffaine,” Marinette spluttered.

“Hey!” Juleka protested, but she was grinning, and added to Rose, “I told you she’d figure it out in the end.”

Marinette shoved herself to her feet and stalked out of the room, following the sound of opening cupboards and soft humming. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands planted on her hips, watching Luka stretch to pull the jar of coffee out of the overhead cupboard and she was not paying attention to the way his shirt rode up to expose bare skin above the waistband of his jeans, or the way his muscles flexed and shifted with the movement.

He turned with the jar in his hands, and broke of his humming when he saw her there, giving her that smile of his that always sent a little fizz of something through her, but she trying to not pay attention to that either.

“Marinette,” he said, his voice making her name something soft and fond.

And she wasn’t falling for that, either. “Why didn’t you tell me they were dates?” she demanded.

“I didn’t think it was a big secret. Is it really that much of a surprise that I might want to date you?” Luka asked, and if she hadn’t been a little distracted, she might have heard the note of strain creep in under the calm amusement in his voice. He put down the jar of coffee, and reached for a mug.

“Of course it didn’t occur to me that you might want to date me again! I was the worst girlfriend ever. I kept running out on you, and I lied to you –“

“I screwed it up too,” he said, interrupting her spiralling flow of words.

She shook her head vehemently at that, because Luka had been amazing. Patient and sweet, and everything she’d wanted…

“I did,” he insisted. “I didn’t realise… I should have known that if you weren’t telling me the truth, it was because you couldn’t.”

Marinette had had her suspicions for a while that Luka knew more than he let on about who she was. He was skirting very close to admitting it.

“I wanted to tell you,” she said, deflating a little. “I wanted to tell you so much, and keeping secrets always goes badly for me. But the thing is, when I tell anyone else, it goes really, really badly for all of… for everyone.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know that now, and I should have known it then.”

He turned the mug over in his hands before he set it carefully on the counter, and looked up to meet her eyes again. “I’ve never made any secret of how I feel about you, Marinette, and if the only reason that we’re not still together is because you had to… ditch a few dates with me and couldn’t tell me why, then I’m hoping you might want to give it – give us another try. You deserve all the romance and magic in the world, and if I can give you a bit of that, if you want me to give you a little bit of that, then I don’t care what we call it.”

As if she’d ever wanted anything else.

“But if I’d known they were dates, I could have been getting kisses,” Marinette said mournfully, and felt a spark of satisfaction as Luka jerked upright and nearly knocked his mug off the bench. “That’s something that happens on dates, isn’t it?”

Luka absently set the mug upright again.

“There’s one way to find out,” he said slowly, his deep blue eyes on her. “Would you like to go out with me tonight? On a very definitely a date?”

Marinette gave him a limpid look and batted her eyelashes at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And there were definitely kisses involved.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #they're idiots your honor #Dating Sucks #mlb fic #dammit Ver

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