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mintaka14 · 1 month

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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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starlight-vixen-emiko · 6 months

Note

I’m not sure if you’re in the ATLA fandom but l*ve square feels a lot like kat*ang where people can easily criticize female main but don’t you dare not ship canon or criticize our boy!

Childish boy that can do no wrong/ is perfect that needs come before duty or the wants of his partner x woman of color that’s kind and strong which are her best or worst traits depending on when you ask and who must end up with male lead because he earned it

................................................

*SIGH*

Anon...Sit down for a moment.

I am not sure if you read my about me or not but I should I mention I ship Kataang and my blog is a pro Aang blog!

I was going to write up a big response but I think I should keep this relatively short and sweet.

But to start off...How is Lukanette like Zvtara?! Like how?!

Zvtara was more popular than the canon ships before and after Avatar's run. And while Lukanette was popular for a time, it was by no means more popular than that one ship that shall not be named! If anything Zvtara is just as popular as the LS and Zvtara fanfics are similar to Adrien and Marinette's fucked up """"love story"""". I remember reading ZK fanfics where everyone and I mean everyone pushes Zuko and Katara together, Toph, Iroh, they are all reduced to mouthpieces for the Zvtara fanbase. Kind of similar to the creepy ass Adrie//nette cult in the show. I literally found a fanfic where Iroh and Kanna try to get Zuko and Katara together by shoving them in a freezer together, which reminds me a hell of a lot like M*raculous.

And I am not sure why you Z/tara shippers are once again playing victim. Yes, there are Kataang shippers who arrogantly flaunt their canon but I also seen Z/tara shippers who think me and my peers are delusional for not seeing the """"romantic chemistry"""" between Zuko and Katara. I have seen Z/tara shippers act all smug and think they have better reading comprehension than people who ship canon. Not to mention the ZK shippers who think anyone who doesn't like Z/tara hates woman and all Kataang shippers are white men while all PoC are uncomfortable with the idea of Kataang.

And honestly the people who think everyone who hates Z/tara hates women can seriously fuck off! Shipping isn't activism! Some of you really need to get off the computer and touch some grass! And stop talking for all PoC as well! I am PoC! And the way a lot of Zvtara fanfictions fetishize Katara and make her Zuko's exotic girlfriend makes me uncomfortable. Not to mention the ZK shippers who think Aang would force Katara to let go of her culture (Legend of Korra and the comics proved this wrong) while Zvtara fanfics involve Katara completely letting go of the water tribe to become the perfect fire lady.

Not to mention, my friends and I were bullied by Zvtara shippers! I was bullied by a ZK shipper in her 40's who acts all smug and thought she had moral superiority and had better reading comprehension because she ships ZK. She just complains about cartoons all day.......Yeah! Complaining about cartoons all day is what ZK shippers do I guess.

And I am not sure why you Aang antis and ZK deepthroaters go on and on until kingdom come that Aang never faces consequences. He felt guilty for burning Katara, for kissing her at the wrong time, for Katara putting herself in the line of danger during the desert episode. Aang saved Kyoshi Island when it was attacked by the fire nation, and he felt guilty and saved Katara and Sokka after hiding a letter from their father from them.

Unlike Adrien whom the creators literally said does no wrong or doesn't need to apologize for anything. Chat Noir ate up kissing Ladybug in Oblivio...Aang felt guilty for kissing Katara in Ember Island Players and didn't bother her about it again.

And Aang takes his role as Avatar seriously! Even if it was all so scary and sometimes he wished wasn't a 12-year-old boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders...Which is human. The ML bible confirmed AdriChat doesn't give a crap about being a hero he's just in it for the freedom!

And again...Not sure why you guys think ZK is like Lukanette...Is every non-canon ship "Just like Zoootara ZOMG!" now?!

I mean...Luka and Marinette actually liked each other. Zuko and Katara never showed romantic interest in each other. (But I guess that is a hard pill for you people to swallow) And "Katara falling in love with Aang is unrealistic because i would've chosen Zuko!" isn't a valid argument! And yet ya'll claim Zvtara isn't a self insert ship.

Honestly I have seen more similarities between Lukanette and Kataang. Both are best friends to lovers that are brushed off as "just bros!" People dismiss both shippers by the mere virtue that the other choice is "more attractive". I have heard people said that the two year age gap between Marinette and Luka is creepy...Similar to Kataang.

And honestly the fact you people have been watching Avatar the Last Airbender with your eyes closed thinking Aang never faces the consequences or apologizes reminds me of that old drama of how people honestly felt Marinette never apologized and got off scott free with everything!

And Luka and Aang are two sweet boys who get way too much unwarranted hate!

And don't you dare compare Kataang to the LS! Similar to how not all non-canon ships are like Zvtara (Because I hate to break it to you people...But Zvtara wasn't robbed of anything! There are plenty of non-canon ships done far worse than Zvtara!) Not all canon ships are like the LS!

Kataang had gradual development and Aang and Katara were best friends! They were each other's ride or die! They had so much development that I am surprised you people are shocked that Aang and Katara ended up endgame.

Adrien and Marinette didn't have the same development that Aang and Katara did! Don't even compare Kataang to the loathe square around me!

But hey, if you can't see how awesome Aang is and how beautiful and nuanced Kataang is...Sucks for you I guess.

I think I am done now...Sorry if I wasn't here to validate your overhyped erotic wattpad fantasy ship but......I am not a Zvtara apologist blog and you messed with the wrong person.

Edit: I forgot to note!

One of the biggest fandom woes I dealt with in both fandoms is

ZK shippers being like "Katara never liked Aang!!!"

and LS shippers being like "Marinette never loved Luka!!!"

And I am like "Guys I am tired!"

But hey...Lukanette is toooootally not like KaTaang amirite???

I mean you guys only think Lukanette and Zvtara are similar because they are both non-canon right? Even if Lukanette was canon briefly. As short lived as it was...

#antizutara #anti love square #love square salt #ml salt #adrien salt #chat noir salt #pro aang #pro kataang #lukanette #pro lukamari #kataang defense squad #anti adrienette

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vipernoir · 4 months

Text

Snowflake

Little Lukanette fic! Inspired by the ‘snow’ from @lukacouffaineappreciation 7daysofLuka for Christmas!!! 🎅 I had a lot of fun writing this :)

Marinette is feeling stress from her everyday life of being ladybug, and with the stress of the holidays coming up she seeks out some comfort from a certain blue haired boy

Bittersweet Luka x Mari ~ post breakup

Why had she agreed to do it? She had enough to deal with right now. As if being Ladybug and secretly saving the city every other night wasn’t enough, she’d promised to bake Christmas macarons for her schools bake sale. Then she had promised Alya she would take her little sisters so see Santa tomorrow so she could see the last movie showing with Nino. On top of all of that she’d now promised Rose she would design and make an elaborate, angelic dress for the upcoming winter dance. It was a lot.

She was an overly helpful person, she’d always been this way. Saying yes was just a second nature for her, and she wasn’t very good at disappointing people. Her plate was always full, then once she’d eaten away at some of the responsibilities and the plate seemed a little easier to eat, it just kept overflowing.

Christmas was only seven days away and in typical Marinette fashion she hadn’t got a single present for anyone, well other then Adrien but she had his next 30 christmases sorted. They were just friends now, good friends too, Marinette never thought her feelings for Adrien could be platonic but here she was. Maybe she could regift some of the old Adrien gifts? After all she had still to buy a gift for her parents, a gift for Alya, as well as the secret Santa she was doing with her friends! Master Fu! Tikki!?

Marinette sank down on the stone cold bench by the river, shivering a bit as she did so. Paris seemed colder this winter than it had been any other. The cold air was thick, and glittery with frost, even with all the layers of clothing Marinette had on it was still freezing. Her thoughts outweighed the cold though, she was too busy worrying about everything to notice how red her nose and cheeks had become. Her eyes were too busy swirling with anxiety she hadn’t noticed the light frost falling on her eyelashes. Her mind wondered to him, and how much regret she had for the way things ended between them. She missed Luka, and with all her heart she still loved him, but she couldn’t bear the extra responsibility of loving him, it was too dangerous for them both. She was so deep in thought she hadn’t even noticed when someone sat down on the bench next to her.

“Hello Marinette.”

His voice took her by surprise, she jumped back startled, which caused him to cover his mouth, stifling a giggle.

“Luka! Sorry I didn’t even notice you. I was just ….”

“Overthinking?” Luka said smiling, shuffling a little closer to Marinette.

“Was it that obvious?” Marinette looked down, trying to hide her eyes, knowing full well Luka could read them like a book

“Your Marinette, you’re always worrying. You can talk to me about it you know.”

Marinette looked away, she always told Luka her problems, it seemed like a regular thing now to the point she was starting to feel guilty. Every time she went on crazy and rambling Luka just sat there, supportively listening and taking in her each and every word.

“Don’t feel bad about it, you’re my friend Marinette, one of my most dear friends. I’ll always listen to you.”

Marinette signed, knowing Luka genuinely wanted to hear her worries, “ I’m just getting so tired of it all Luka. Every second of my time is accounted for, and I can’t catch a break. There’s things that I have to do and things I’ve promised to do, and they’re all combining into one giant time consuming lump and I feel breathless. I think sitting on this bench is the first moment I’ve had to myself for weeks.”

“You’re a busy girl Marinette, you always seem to be rushing off to do something…important.” Marinette sunk down the bench, feeling guilty remembering all the times she’d made excuses during the dates she and Luka had been on, all of times she had to transform to ladybug and abandon her friends on liberty. After all she was the reason they’d broken up, and had make Luka so sad. “You have to take time for yourself, the holidays are stressful enough time for anyone. You’re an amazing girl Marinette, and you shouldn’t overwork yourself. You need to find the right balance, you can’t press every piano key down at once, it’s impossible, you’ve got to select what notes to play at the right time, and don’t play too fast or your fingers will ache.”

She giggled at his musical euphemism “Thank you Luka. You always cheer me up.”

“Anytime Marinette, I’ll always be here for you, even if it’s just as friends.”

Marinette paused, wondering if she should say what she wanted too, “I…I‘m still really sorry about that Luka, how things ended up. I didn’t want things to be that way, I don’t even think I wanted things to end at all. It was just all too much.”

She looked at his eyes, they were showing nothing but calmness and compassion for her. Luka was good at reading people but he was even better at hiding his own emotions. Marinette knew how much pain Luka hid, and she knew that pain was inflicted by herself. Luka put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, resting it on top of her pink, knitted scarf.

“I understand Marinette, and it’s okay.”

“No Luka it’s not okay! I didn’t want -!” Her voice trailed off and she could feel cold tears prickling in her eyes, the icy wind making it harder for the tears to stay dormant. Her hands instinctively covered her face, and she turned away in embarrassment.

“Marinette you don’t have to hide yourself, you’re beautiful even when you cry.” Luka whispered, slinking his fingers between hers and pulling them from her face before pulling her into a hug. “I’m here for you always, and I’ll put your feelings before my own because I know you need it. You’ve made it perfectly clear that I can’t know the truth, and as much as I want to know I respect that you can’t tell me. The little things that pile up on top though, they’re okay to tell me aren’t they?”

Marinette sniffled, throwing her arms around Luka returning the hug, “I’m always using you for advice and I can give you nothing in return.”

“But you do give me something Marinette, you give me your smile.” Marinette’s blueberry eyes met Luka’s, she had to admit his sweet words did bring a smile to her face, she didn’t consider it payment for all he did for her, but she still couldn’t stop her lips from spreading at his words. “It’s getting cold out, do you want me to walk you home?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s not a far walk, but I think my dad said he can pick me up in his tour bus”

Marinette nodded and stood from the bench, and Luka followed suit. The glazed over path made Marinette stumble back, she was about to fall to the floor when a warm pair of arms grabbed her from behind, and set her back to her feet. “Thank you Luka, I didn’t realise how slippery it had gotten.”

“No problem Marinette, it’s just a shame it’s only icy and there’s been no snow.”

“Yeah I agree. Even though it’s the coldest winter we’ve had for years there’s still been no snow, Christmas doesn’t feel right without it.”

“Yeah, even when it does snow it doesn’t last long.”

“It’s honestly so pretty when it snows, I love how beautiful the city looks in snowfall I wish it would last forever.”

“That’s a nice wish Marinette, I don’t think it can snow forever but if I could wish for anything this Christmas I’d hope for some snow this winter for you, if it would make you happy.”

“That’s really sweet Luka.” She smiled at him.

“Actually I think I’m being a little selfish with it too…” Marinette cocked her head confused by what he meant. How could Luka ever be selfish? “I’m wishing for snow to see you smile, but mostly I think I’d like to see how radiant you look as the snowflakes float down behind you.”

Marinette just laughed, Luka always seeming so perfect. The two walked slowly through the slippy streets, looking at the twinkling decorations that lit up Paris. After a couple of more close falls from Marinette slipping, Luka took her hand firmly, arching his own arm as a support beam. Marinette blushed but said nothing, stealing glances at Luka when he wasn’t looking.

He looked so handsome in the crisp night, his soft, fluffy hair looked like a galaxy against the night. His eyes so brilliant blue, so full of the Christmas wonder. She hated being a superhero sometimes, she just wanted to be a normal girl who could have a normal boyfriend and do normal couple things.

“You’re overthinking again Mari.” Luka smirked, side eyeing her

“Sorry aha, I was kinda just trailing off from the world again.”

“Talk to me.”

“I just wish I was normal..”

“You’re not normal though, and that’s what’s so special about you. You have a tune that no one else can play. Everything about you is extraordinary. You’re like a beautiful, winter snowflake, each snowflake that falls is different yet every one is individually beautiful , and the more layers that form the more stunning you become.”

“You always know what to say Luka.” Marinettes cheeked turned crimson, now matching with her frozen cheeks and Rudolph nose. “Do…do you really think I’m as beautiful as a snowflake?”

Luka’s eyes darted up to the blackening sky and he smiled softly, turning his gaze to meet Marinette’s. “As beautiful as the ones falling from the sky.”

“What do-“ she started, before Luka span her round to see the first snow fall. Majestic white droplets dancing down to the ground, swirling around the landscape of the city, each droplet of snow that fell complimented the dazzling lights that decorated Paris.

“Looks like you got your wish.” Luka said smiling

“It’s so beautiful!” Marinette exclaimed running out towards the snow covered grass in the park, twirling about in the snow fall. Snow fell on her bluebell hair, and covered her shoulders.

“I got my wish too.” Marinette turned to look at him. He was stood watching her intently with such a loving gaze in his eyes, just pure adoration. Watching her excitement prancing about the snowy night, it was the highlight of his whole year.

“Merry Christmas Luka.” Marinette said pulling him into a snow covered hug.

Luka pulled her in deeper, planting a light kiss of her forehead. “Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

#Luka’schristmas23 #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #mlb #tales of ladybug and cat noir #lukacouffaine #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x luka #luka x marinette #lukaschristmas23 #Luka’sChristmas23 #Luka’s Christmas 23 #Luka'sChristmas23 #pro lukamari

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marble-tavern · 4 days

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You Let Me Do This In Sweatpants???

Rating: General

Fandom: Miraculous

Pairing: Lukanette

Gifted to: @rierse

Summary:

Sometimes it took some convincing to get Marinette to put her work down long enough to eat. Luka is always willing to put in the effort though.

Ao3 Link

Tag list: @official-timari-server (Request to join)

*Shutterbug Station Submission*

Prompt: Convincing them to eat

Luka ran cold water into the cullender, shuffling the leaves with his hand cleaning them. He shook it out and set it on the side, continuing putting the ingredients into the lasagna. When he was done, he popped it in the oven and washed his hands, hanging up the tea towel on the oven handle and headed to check in the room next door.

He stuck his head in the room, scanning it until his eyes landed on the person he was looking for. He smiled gently as he saw Marinette crouched at the bottom of a gown, embroidering the bottom with elegant golden flowers on top of the white fabric it already was. He tapped on the skirting board with the heel of his foot, grabbing her attention to where he was leaning against the doorframe.

“Luka! Hi! Sorry, were you talking to me?” Marinette ran her hand through her hair, pushing it up out of her eyes and back.

Luka tilted his head slightly as his smile grew soft, “No, I just came to tell you dinner was in the oven.”

“Oh ok.”

Luka looked around the room. It was kind of a mess. There was fabrics everywhere, bits and pieces spread across every available surface whether for comparison or colour matching or left over bits and bobs discarded. There was lace here and there and needles pinned into random places, one even stuck into the wall.

He shook his head fondly as Marinette went back to her work. He wandered around the room, picking up pieces here and there and making the room a little bit more organized. Enough to be safe at least. Once he was done, he left her to continue in peace, heading back to the kitchen and pulled out pie crust, chocolate pudding mix, and a medium sized pot. He set the pudding on the stove and went about making a chocolate cream pie. He put it in the freezer, knowing that they’d have to eat it a bit after dinner if they wanted it to be cold enough, and checked on dinner. He smiled and pulled out the lasagna, going about setting the table up for two.

Once he thought it was sufficient enough, he returned to Mari’s work room. He made sure his steps were heavier and knocked on the door frame so she wouldn’t be startled. As much at least. She still jumped and looked up at him which made him smile. She had pulled her hair up into a bun which reminded him vaguely of her hero form with the mouse miraculous. Multimouse certainly rated high on Luka’s “Marinette’s cutest looks” list. The space buns were absolutely precious.

“Dinner’s ready,” he spoke gently as he walked over, admiring the work she’d gotten done.

“I’m almost done,” Marinette turned back to her work even though Luka was right next to her, and she knew that he could see she was only just halfway through this.

“It’ll get cold.”

“I can nuke it.”

“Microwaved food isn’t as good as just out of the oven.”

“I’m almost done though,” She finally looked up at him, giving the blue haired boy the best pout she could muster.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Marinette’s shoulders dropped as she ducked her head.

Luka knelt down, bringing a hand to her chin gently pushing it up so their eyes met. He leaned forward until their lips pressed together in a soft kiss. He lingered for a moment before moving up to press one to her nose then her forehead then took her hands in his and brought them to her face and gave each back a kiss.

“Come. Take a break. For me?”

“You don’t play fair,” Marinette whispered, as if speaking louder would shatter the moment like glass.

“If it convinces you to care for yourself,” Luka matched her volume as he released one of her hands to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and pressing his palm to her cheek which she leant into, “I’d cheat every time.”

“That’s not very heroic of you.”

“I never claimed to be a hero.”

She pressed her lips to his once more, pulling away and looking intently into his eyes, “you didn’t have to. You prove it every day.”

Luka’s heart pattered harshly in his chest in a way that spread warmth from his cheeks to the tips of his fingers, a tingly feeling lighting him up and infecting his face and his head was fuzzy in what could only be described as love.

As cliche as it was, he fell in love with her more every day and he hoped- no… he knew he would never lose that feeling.

“Come,” a simple demand as he stood, pulling her up with him.

There was no protest this time, much to his delight as he led her out of the room, she had holed herself into all day long. And when she emerged, he grinned widely as her breath caught in her throat, a gasp exhaled past her lips.

“Luka…”

The dining table had candles set up lighting the room in a dim, homely light. The lasagna was presented on their best plates with a glass of white wine to pair with it, the bottle sitting in the middle of the table with the extra food. Red rose petals were spread across the floor and a vase also sat in the middle of the table with full ones. Nine roses in full bloom, a royal purple.

“There’s dessert in the freezer too. Your favorite,” Luka whispered into her ear as he pressed her into his side, arms wrapping behind her and situating themselves on her waist.

“Luka…” Marinette breathed, looking up at him. Tears had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

“Yes, my Melody?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Just like you,” he pressed a kiss to her head.

He was surprised when she suddenly pulled away, eyes wide and hands waving around frantically, “I can’t be here!”

“Why not?” the blue haired boy asked calmly. He was knowledgeable enough of her freak outs to know that she was not freaking out due to something he did wrong, but something she thinks is wrong with her.

“Look at me! I’m a mess!”

He shook his head in fond exasperation as he looked at her. She continued ranting, arms waving wildly, eyes wide, body swaying with her freak out. The way her hair stuck up in odd places, the way her eyes reflected the candlelight so beautifully, the way she was so worried about how she looked because she couldn’t see how perfect she was in his eyes.

“Marinette.”

“And don’t even get me started on…”

“Marinette,” he called again.

Marinette finally stopped, looking towards him. He kept up his smile as he slowly approached. He bent down, getting down on one knee and watching as her eyes lit up frantic for a completely different reason.

“My Melody, will you marry me?”

————————————————————

Extra:

"I cannot believe you proposed to me while I was in sweatpants."

"I can."

Marinette scoffed, "Why? Because I'm beautiful no matter what?"

"Precisely."

Marinette ducked her head as she tried to repress her smile, "Sap."

"For you? Always."

#lukanette #luka couffaine #luka miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #lukanette endgame #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #lukanette fic #Marbles Writing #miraculous #shutterbug station 2024 #shutterbug station #MSS2024 #You Let Me Do This In Sweatpants???

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quickspinner · 6 months

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Weekly Lukanette Link Roundup

What is the Weekly Roundup? | Previous Weekly Roundups

I hope I got everything. Apologies if I put anything under the wrong author name or missed anything. Drop me a line if I missed anything and I'll make sure it goes on the next roundup as always.

From me: Some Other Timeline

From @honeybloom20-23: The music that was finally complete

From @smileytrinity: Late Night Worries | Truths

From @chrwrites: Ghosts | Sword | Fire

From @nerdypanda3126: Smooch Roulette #1

From @rosebrided: Moonlit Melody

If I missed something that should be included, reblog, reply, DM, or drop the link in my asks and I’ll make sure it goes on next week’s roundup! If you prefer not to be included in these roundups for any reason please drop me a message, or if you post something that you would like to be sure I include, please drop a link in my asks and I’ll make sure it gets listed (Lukanette endgame only please - see what is the weekly roundupfor more details). If you want to be sure I’ve flagged your work for inclusion you can check the quickroundup tag on my blog to see what I’ve got in the queue for this week.

If you find something you like please like/reblog the original post to let the author know you enjoyed their work!

#weekly lukanette roundup #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #pro lukamari

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verfound · 5 months

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FIC: "How Do I Look?" (MLB; Lukanette; Sprint Fic)

Rating: Teen & Up

Characters/Pairings: Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Summary: Alya’s making Marinette go out, and Marinette really doesn’t want to. Luka’s not sure he wants her to, either.

Author’s Notes/Warnings: The week before Thanksgiving is always a little nutty at work, and I did some sprinting to unwind. From November 2023’s Sprint Challenge Prompts over at @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers, using the social media prompt that said: “The single most important thing a man can do to be an ally is give his woman friends permission to give dudes at the bar his number so when they call he can angrily say that’s not funny because she died 15 years ago that very night.”

Just a reminder: LBSC Sprint Challenge Guidelines: Three 15-minute sprints to write the fic. 24 hours to edit/post.

“How Do I Look?”

“I really don’t want to go out tonight.”

Luka looked up from his Cheerios at Marinette’s voice, his spoon still in his mouth. His eyes widened when he saw the red dress she was wearing, and he almost swallowed the spoon when she sat on the edge of the table and gave him a pouting look. Between the smoky eye she had painted on and the deep red lipstick that drew his focus to those kissable lips…yep. He was swallowing his spoon. And tongue. And…

“You…you’re going out tonight?” he asked after a moment, when he finally felt like he had regained some sense of composure. Barely.

“Unfortunately,” she sighed, bending to slip on a strappy pair of heels that just…weren’t fair. She glanced back at him, a smirk on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “I’d much rather stay home in my comfy jammies, with my favorite emotional support musician and a tub of ice cream. Binge watching bad movies.”

He…liked the sound of that, actually.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #ml fic #ver fic #lbsc sprint challenge #liberties were taken with this prompt #alya salt #light salt #getting back together #and they were roommates #just kiss already #I don't even know guys half of this was written in a sleep-deprived fever state 😂

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ladyofthenoodle · 1 year

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why alya's s5 position on ladynoir makes sense

even though she's wrong

many people (me) were initially taken aback by alya's insistence that marinette is in love with adrien and not chat noir, when previous seasons had repeatedly shown us that she is an avid ladynoir shipper

however, upon reflection, season 4 actually set this up perfectly

we start with the aftermath of gang of secrets, when a post-lukanette breakup marinette insists she must be alone forever and that she's over adrien, despite evidence to the contrary - a pattern marinette will repeat at the beginning of season 5. alya has seen this behavior before.

she has a front row seat to the adrinette show every single weekday whether she likes it or not (luckily she does). she ended up being right about marinette not being over adrien in mister pigeon 72, so naturally she's not going to believe marinette this time either.

however, despite her supporting adrinette, we season that alya is still on team ladynoir as late as glaciator 2. i don't know that it really occurred to her until that moment that adrinette and ladynoir were competing ships. she knew marinette was ladybug, yes, but i don't know that it really hit her until then that it meant ladynoir and adrinette couldn't both happen. of course, she chooses to support what marinette wants, and commits to team adrinette.

the other crucial development here is rocketear, when alya realizes that secrets aren't sustainable in her own relationship and tells nino the truth. this is called back in her argument with marinette, so we know this is definitely influencing her opinion. marinette insists that she's not alya and she can be with chat noir and not want to reveal their identities, but alya is not convinced (rightly so, if we consider ephemeral, where marinette does eventually reveal herself, and also the fact that marinette told alya in the first place).

alya likely also was witness to several lectures about secret identities from tikki and marinette herself throughout season 4. we don't see every conversation they have on screen, but it's pretty clear alya has taken it to heart by elation

and i think this is why alya remains team adrinette even post-passion when marinette switches to team ladynoir. in season 4, alya had been willing to accept marinette's wishes in terms of who she ended up with, but in the process, she internalized all the reasons marinette gave for why ladynoir couldn't happen. she also experienced first hand the problems with keeping identities from your boyfriend. so by the time marinette is ready to acknowledge her feelings for chat noir, alya's already fully accepted ladynoir cannot happen.

and, well, she still has to witness this nonsense every day

#miraculous ladybug #elation #using my noodle

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mariharem-trash-heap · 1 year

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Talk Her Down

The inevitable seems to have finally happened: Marinette gets akumatized after a friend gets hurt in the crossfire between her and Lila - and it’s up to her friends and classmates to do what they can to calm her down before Ladybug can purify her akuma.

Notes:

I really, really love the trope of “this isn’t you, I know you’re in there, let me talk you down”. ESPECIALLY when it’s between friends. It’s just so (chef’s kiss)

Also yes, I’m well aware eastern and western dragons are largely different - I’m keeping mostly elements from eastern dragons because they’re super cool and underrated over here in the west.

(This will have hints at a Mariharem (but I couldn’t resist adding a lot more Lukanette because that ship still has my heart, sue me)

What began as a bright, sunny day had suddenly grown dark, sinister clouds rising to shun the sun and bathing the city of Paris in a thick gray curtain of dread.

Civilians looked on in horror from the relative safety of their homes at the giant red and black dragon weaving her way through the air, steam hissing from her nostrils, gleaming golden eyes narrowed in rage.

“LILA!” A thundering roar reverberated through the streets. Whoever remained outside had to clap their hands over their ears lest the painful ringing the sound caused actually did them damage as raindrops began to fall from the skies.

The softest tinkling of bells in the akuma’s wake was offset by another earsplitting roar, masking the panting of the two heroes trying to follow her.

“Man, who gave her control over the weather?” Chat Noir complained, eyes narrowed against the growing sprinkling of rain.

“I think it’s-- a culture thing?” Chanceux answered hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth as they vaulted another rooftop. His fingers were beginning to slip. “We need to change her back before all of Paris floods!”

Chat winced, troubling memories resurfacing. “Yeah,” he quietly murmured.

“Marinette!” Alya shouted from the roof of Le Grand Paris, squinting against the pounding rain.

The dragon whipped her head around, and glinting eyes settled squarely on the reporter, just a tiny, tiny figure on the roof below her.

“Mari, hey,” she continued, her tone dropping into a more soothing one. “Look, I know you’re upset - but you can’t let Hawkmoth get to you! You’re hurting people!”

“Hurting people?!” She exclaimed. “Lila has been the one hurting people for far too long! She needs to face the consequences of hurting my friends!”

Alya tried her best not to heave a frustrated sigh. “I know! I know, believe me, Marinette, I know. But what you’re doing - this isn’t you! The Marinette I know would never hurt so many innocent people like this!”

For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker by the akuma’s eyes - something troubled.

“Please,” she pleaded, reaching out to her friend. “Fight him, Marinette. You’re better than him.”

It seemed to have worked. And then that irritating glowing purple outline appeared before her face and she let loose another earth-shaking roar; and with a rush of wind so strong it nearly blew her off of the building, the akuma - Marinette - had gone.

Alya huffed, raising her phone to speak clearly into it, “Sorry guys, I tried. She’s beyond even listening to me.”

“Got it, babe,” Nino answered, before hanging up and slipping his phone back into his pocket. Turning around, he surveyed the members of Kitty Section... minus their guitarist.

“Where’s Luka?” Mylene wondered aloud, worry knitting her brow.

“He...” Juleka hesitated, but Rose’s comforting arm around her shoulders helped her finish, “...he wanted to try and talk her down. I told him it was a stupid idea, but he insisted.”

“If he can’t do it, we won’t be able to either,” Ivan admitted glumly.

Rose looked around the group in desperation. “But we’ve got to try something! That’s Marinette!” She cried, turning her pleading gaze on her girlfriend. “None of us liked to be akumatized, did we?”

An awkward air hung around as the rest of them either shook their heads or mumbled various “no”s and “not really”s.

“It’s not our faults we were akumatized,” the blonde reasoned. “I know I would’ve loved someone to help me fight off Hawkmoth’s butterfly.”

Juleka turned to her, a soft, solemnness to her eyes. “But would you have listened?”

Here, Rose opened her mouth to reply... then a few seconds later, shut it and slowly shook her head.

“We’ve still got to try something,” Ivan repeated, raising his drumstick. “For Marinette.”

“For Marinette,” Mylene echoed.

“For-”

“Marinette!” Nino exclaimed, finally spotting the serpentine akuma slither its way through the clouds.

It almost appeared she didn’t hear them, but finally she slowly turned to fix a hard stare on the group. Steam hissed again from her nose, as if in an annoyed snort. Something akin to frills - or spikes? - flared back and forth down her back, jet-black fading to white tips.

“Marinette!” Nino repeated, relief flooding his voice as he adjusted his glasses. “Oh, dude! We’ve been worried sick-- hey, where are you going?!”

She didn’t dignify him with an answer, turning back and returning to her course.

Nino watched her go, agape in shock.

“We tried,” Juleka heaved a sigh and patted his shoulder. “It’s up to the rest, now.”

“Luka...” she quietly wondered to herself, “... where are you? Please be safe...”

“Ugh, why am I here again?” Chloe huffed, turning her back on the group in the courtyard.

“Maybe if we use you as bait, we can keep her in one place for long enough that Chat Noir and Ladybug--” Alix hesitated, “--Chanceux can purify her.”

“That’s ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Do you want all of us to become fish food?” The blonde demanded. “Sabrina, we’re leaving.”

For once, the redheaded girl hesitated, watching Chloe begin to walk off.

Once she registered that no footsteps were echoing behind her, the rich girl paused, turning back with a raised brow. “Well? We don’t have all day, Sabrina - I’m already soaked enough as it is from all this stupid rain.”

All eyes fell to the girl, who shrank a little from the scrutiny. Alix and Kim looked to her in disdain, Chloe, expectant, and Max was still searching the clouds.

“I... no,” she murmured.

“What?” Chloe squinted, leaning in with a hand cupped to her ear. “I didn’t hear you. Speak up, will you?”

“I said no,” Sabrina stated forcefully, more forcefully than she meant to, judging by the surprise in her face. “I’m staying here. I...” she glanced to Max before looking her friend in the face, “I want to help Marinette too.”

It was silent for a second, save for the pounding rainstorm. Chloe was utterly aghast.

Then the blonde scoffed, whirling around and walking away. “Whatever, your loss. I’m going home where it’s warm and safe.”

“Wait, there she is!” Max suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the skies. The other students crowded around, watching a bright red line rushing through the clouds, cutting clean through the gray like a bullet.

“Marinette!” Kim bellowed as loud as he could. “We need you to stop!”

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t give a single indication that she’d heard.

Max paused, pondering something quietly to himself for several long seconds. When Chloe gave another dismissive scoff, he looked up, a newfound determination in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea; but first, who has Lila’s number?”

“Luka, where in the hell are you?” Juleka questioned.

“Nowhere you should go to in this weather,” he answered, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he got off the bike. Pulling off his helmet, he returned his phone to his hand and looked around. “Wait for me at the Liberty. I’ll be back as soon as I talk to her.”

“You’re crazy, you know that? She didn’t even listen to us.”

“She’s... so angry, right now,” he murmured, and a chord of pain struck his chest as he heard another angry roar ripple through the sky. “I’m hoping I can at least keep her for a minute - but if I’m lucky...”

“If you’re lucky, she’ll decide to spare you,” his sister huffed. After a second of silence on her end, she added, “The band is worrying about you. Hurry up and come home.”

Luka managed a chuckle at the warmth belied in her voice. “Will do.”

As he hung up the phone, he walked through the park until he finally came to the spot - and pulled out his guitar.

“Marinette!” He called, seeing her soaring above.

At the sound of his voice, the thunderous rain seemed to lessen in intensity for a moment - and so did the heat in her eyes as she turned to hover above the park.

Smiling up at her, he ran a hand through his drenched hair and pulled out a pick. “I know you’re angry right now... horribly angry... but I want you to hear something.”

Tilting her head slightly, she gave no indication she would take off.

Strumming a few chords, he began to play a song - one that he knew almost as well as his own, or his sister’s, or his mother’s. As he looked up at her, he could see her golden eyes closing, an echo of the day they met.

“Is it working?” He questioned, sparing a glance up at her hovering form. “Can I finally... be the one to calm her anger, just as she tried to bring me back all that time ago?”

The next time he looked up at her, his hopeful smile fell into a despairing gape as a familiar purple mask faded before her eyes, and they reopened - full of pain and anger.

“Marinette--!” he began, but his guitar slipped from his hands as giant, gleaming talons wrapped about him, tight enough so that he couldn’t wiggle free.

“Marinette!” Another voice yelled, and the akuma turned with a growl at the people leaping into the park.

Chat Noir and Chanceux led the charge, a group of teenagers following close behind. With them was a familiar person wrapped up like a package, angry and glaring - until she saw the akuma.

Lila squeaked, struggling against the rope. “When you said you were going to get help, this is NOT what I--”

“LILA!” The akuma’s roar dizzied them for a few moments, and the rain began to pelt them like hail.

“Marinette, stop!” Chanceux exclaimed, darting in front of the girl as the dragon dropped Luka only a foot to the ground in anticipation of grabbing her instead. “This is what you wanted, right? You wanted Lila? Why?”

“Because she hurt Marc!” The dragon snarled, eyes flashing in fury at the memory. “She ruined his comic because he stood up for me!”

“Mari, Marc is okay,” the red-and-black-spotted hero tried to soothe, raising his hands placatingly. “So what if Lila ruined ou-- his comic? He’s already planning on making a better one!”

Marc chose that moment to hobble over from the crowd, trying to smile up at the serpent with tearstained cheeks.

“Marc...” The akuma murmured, all heat gone from her voice. “Your eyeliner is running.”

“Oh, is it?” His smile dropped, and he swiped at his eye with his thumb. Sure enough, a smudge of black stained it. “Well, that’s no big deal, is it? I’m more worried about you.”

“We all need you to shake off Hawkmoth,” Alya pleaded next. “We’re here to help. You would’ve done the same for us. It’s only fair we do the same thing for you.”

“We love you, Marinette,” Rose implored. “Please.”

The akumatized girl looked back and forth between her friends, brow knit in indecision.

Suddenly Hawkmoth’s voice snarled in her ears. “What are you doing, Huangdi?! You need to take the Miraculous!”

Clenching her eyes shut in pain, she screamed as a wave of agony flooded over her through the mindlink.

“He’s hurting her!” Ivan exclaimed.

“Quick, Chanceux,” Chat said, catching the hero’s attention, “where is the akumatized item? Do you see it?”

Scanning the creature, the hero’s brow knit together in confusion - until he saw it.

“The tail,” he stated. “The object is wrapped around the tail.”

Chat looked, and indeed, it was a beaded object tightly strung around it. His throat constricted, and his heart began to race - he recognized it.

“Do we have to break it to get the butterfly?” He questioned aloud.

“I hope we don’t,” the ladybug hero answered softly. “How can we talk her down with Hawkmoth abusing the mindlink?”

A cry from the dragon interrupted their little talk, and the two looked back to see the dragon land with a thud on the ground, her magnificent length spreading across the entirety of the park as she tried to cover her ears with her talons.

“Marinette!” Alya cried in alarm, rushing over to her.

“Please, please make it stop,” Huangdi begged, tears filling her eyes.

The group froze in fear.

Then, Rose spoke up. “Group hug!”

Determinedly marching over, she reached out and wrapped her arms around one of the dragon’s, holding it to her chest as tight as she could.

“Rose...?!” Juleka questioned.

“Go away, Hawkmoth!” Rose yelled as if she hadn’t heard her. “You big meanie! Leave Marinette alone!”

Bewildered, a few of the group exchanged glances.

Shrugging, Alix and Kim walked over with confident faces and joined Rose in hugging Huangdi’s arm and shouting at the villain.

“You stink, Hawkmoth,” Kim scoffed. “Hurting our friend like this? If you were here I’d punch you right in the face!”

“Not before me you wouldn’t!” Alix retorted, squeezing the scaled appendage as tight as she could.

“What... are they doing...?” Chat breathed as more and more made their way towards the dragon.

“I... I think they’re bullying Hawkmoth,” Chanceux let out a tiny little hysterical laugh. With an incredulous smile, he shrugged and made his way over to their hostage.

“You suck, Hawkmoth!” Nino joined in, pressing himself against their friend’s side. “C’mon, Marinette, you can totally kick him out!”

“Do it for me!” Alya added, trying her best to hug her as she planted herself firmly at her throat. “Come on, Marinette, you can do it. I know you can show this bully who’s boss.”

“Go away, Hawkmoth!” Sabrina yelled in unison with Rose.

Huangdi’s eyes continued to water, and large tears spilled over the sides of her cheeks and splattered to the ground with the rain.

Luka had long since picked himself up and pressed a hand against her scaled jaw. When she looked down at him, he gave her a reassuring smile.

“You can do this, Marinette,” he encouraged. “Where’s the amazing girl that stood up to XY for us?”

“I...” The dragon sniffled a little.

Slowly, her voice began to change from its guttural timbre to something softer.

“Hey, it’s working!” Mylene exclaimed in relief. “Come on, Marinette...!”

Slowly, the dragon began to flicker - and with a bright light and a sharp scream, she disappeared, leaving a shivering, sobbing Marinette in her wake. Her classmates fell to the ground abruptly, letting out exclamations of surprise, and Chanceux was quick to dart away from Lila and towards the dark-purple butterfly trying to flutter away.

“Gotcha!” He exclaimed with pride as it disappeared into the yo-yo. “Your evil comes to an end, akuma!”

Throwing the yo-yo into the air, he followed it with “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Almost immediately a bright light pierced the sky, and a swarm of ladybugs chased it as it shooed away the dreary blanket. Slowly, the bright blue sky came back into view as the rain came to an end. Rainbows danced about as the last of the rain shimmered in the sun’s cheerful rays.

Alya was the first to get to her. “Marinette, are you okay?”

Nodding wordlessly, she collapsed into her best friend’s arms, still crying - and one by one, the rest of them joined the group hug. Luka glanced towards Chat and Chanceux, gesturing towards the pile with expectant eyes.

The ladybug hero sighed, smiling in relief as he joined in. Chat hesitated, but Nino caught his eye and pointed at Marinette. He gave in and hugged around Alya and Luka.

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” Marinette whimpered, trying to wipe away her tears. “I was just... so upset and hurt that I lost it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Marc spoke up firmly, brushing away his own tears and squeezing her arm. “Like Chanceux said, I can always make an even better one.”

“Um, hello?” Lila groused. “Right here...”

“Oh, right,” Chat remembered with a glower, turning to the Italian girl. “As for little miss troublemaker, I want you out of the class effective immediately.”

“Wh- what?” It wasn’t just Lila, but Marinette who answered. The group stared at her even as she spluttered, “Chat, are you sure--?”

“She has caused too much harm in the classroom, Mari,” he stated, his usual banter traded for a serious tone that demanded she listen. “Not just to you - now she’s involved someone from another class, and it’s not just Bustier’s problem to deal with anymore.”

“He’s right,” Juleka added. “Nathanael and Marc are my friends. I can’t just sit and watch her start bullying Marc.”

“Th- that wasn’t-- I was just--” The brunette stammered.

“You tore up something precious to him,” Chanceux suddenly spoke up, voice flickering with anger as he stared her down. “That’s something Chloe would do, sure - but you? After everything we did to try and be nice to you?”

“It’s bullying,” Chat emphasized, folding his arms across his chest. “Marinette, I know you don’t want to make things harder, but I don’t feel comfortable having another bully in the classroom after everything else that’s happened this year.”

There was a heavy few seconds of silence from the group.

Finally, Marinette swallowed. She nodded her head and admitted, “... I’m not going to argue with you. In fact, I agree. I don’t want to have to deal with that anymore. It was enough being the only one having to keep quiet - but I am not going to stand around and watch my friends get the same treatment.”

Alya pulled away with a concerned frown. “So it was true, then? She lied?”

“She lied about the connection with Dargaud,” Marc confirmed. “I assume she’s lied about other things as well, but that one affects Nath and I.”

“I can’t believe this.” The reporter shot her a disappointed stare. “I was so set to publish that interview with you, too. That would’ve gotten me so much hate if people actually contacted them and asked about you, you know? I can’t believe I didn’t even see it earlier; you don’t even like comics.”

“I- I do,” Lila defended. “I read a ton of webcomics all the time!”

“You didn’t even know the name of the studio you were promising a gig with,” Chanceux pointed out with narrowed eyes.

“Do I have to know the names of every single last place I work with, now?” She questioned, exasperated and upset. “I mean come on, not even Gabriel Agreste himself would know like half the models and agencies he collaborates with. Excuse me for having a bad memory.”

Rose shifted from foot to foot. “This one was a lie, but... surely she can’t have lied about everything, right? Who just does that?”

Marinette turned to give Chat a flat look over Alya’s head. He nodded in response.

“Chanceux, why don’t we let her loose,” he said to the hero standing near her.

Pursing his lips, the redheaded boy thought for a moment. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. Might as well; the only thing she did was serve as bait for the akuma.”

Pulling at the end of the bow, the rest of the rope sagged free, and so did Lila. She got up, rubbing her sore arms, and glared at the group.

“Now I’m wet, muddy, and have ropeburn,” she complained with a heavy sigh. “Mama is going to have a fit when she sees how dirty my clothes got...”

As she ran off, the heroes returned their attention to the pile.

“Thanks, guys, I’m feeling a lot better now.” With another sniffle, Marinette smiled weakly at her friends. “I feel so ashamed for giving in...”

“Believe me, I was really close,” Marc commented with a light laugh. “If you hadn’t jumped in front of me and took the butterfly when you did...”

“You continue to be an Everyday Ladybug,” Chat praised with a soft smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Marinette. I’m just glad we were able to snap you out of it.”

Extending his hand, he added, “Why don’t I take you home? I’m sure your parents are worried sick.”

“Better idea, why don’t we have a sleepover tonight?” Alya asked, glancing around at the girls. “That way, we can keep an eye out for any more nasty butterflies.”

“I’m down.” Alix nodded. “I’ll ask my dad.”

“Sounds like fun!” Rose cheered, Juleka nodding in agreement.

“I’ll ask my dad,” Mylene said, folding her hands together.

“It’s settled.” Alya smiled triumphantly, squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you, Marinette. Just say the word and we’ll help you beat away Hawkmoth’s akumas with a superpowered stick if we have to!”

“You don’t have to,” laughed the girl as she wiped her last tear away and took Chat’s hand. “But thank you. Really, thank you. I’m glad to have you all as my friends.”

“No,” said the ladybug hero, his eyes growing soft at the pigtailed girl, “thank you for being ours.”

#miraculous ladybug #lila salt #akumanette #akuma class sugar #angst with a happy ending #long post

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blueberry-macaron · 1 year

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Another Lukanette looking lovingly at each other moment🥰

Pls they're so cute❤️❤️

#ml #ml determination #lukanette #pro lukamari #don't mind me I'm just collecting my Lukanette crumbs

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mintaka14 · 8 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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