#monthofmiracles2020 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles - Dressing Up Part 2

Find the prompt list here!

Marinette tapped her pencil on the small stack of sketches and sighed. She felt dissatisfied with them, but that was nothing new. She was dissatisfied with almost everything she made these days, so why should this be any different?

Her thoughts drifted back to Luka for the hundredth time. She was going to have to face him again. He was expecting her and she really did need to source some materials from the wardrobe he was offering.

She might be able to put it off a day, though, she mused. Maybe it would be better to give him some space, anyway. She had just rejected him, after all. That had to sting, no matter how chill he acted about it. Marinette would be doing him a favor, staying away for a day. She could go shopping and see what she could get in the way of basic materials first. That was a perfectly plausible excuse.

Coward, she thought sourly at herself, and sighed, dropping her head into her arms.

It would be easier if she didn’t like him so much. Marinette turned her head and looked at her phone where it lay on the table in its cheerful pink case. She could text him, but...would that be weird? People here didn’t seem to do that, they just...popped up. He’d told her just to show up whenever, but…

I don’t have his number, she realized suddenly. How funny was that? All the times they’d talked, and they’d never even traded numbers.

She wouldn’t even be able to text him when she went back to the city. The thought made her ache, but she pushed it aside. That was the kind of problem you could push off for later, she thought as she packed up her things. Not like making out with a guy you were probably never going to see again once the week was out. Which was a real, actual problem that should be avoided.

Right?

Marinette groaned, and grabbed Gina’s car keys, marching out of the door. She had a job to do, and surely she was still professional enough to manage that much.

She had herself mostly together by the time she pulled into the Couffaine farm. The yard wasn’t empty when she pulled in, to her mild surprise.

“Ahoy, Marinette!” Anarka called, waving at her, and Marinette, feeling she should be polite, got her kit out of the car and walked over to where Anarka was working. Ankara was unloading some small saplings from the back of a pickup truck that looked a lot like Luka’s, only about twenty years older. “For a moment there, I fergot it was you and not yer grandma pulling up,” Anarka chuckled as Marinette approached. “Here t’see Luka, I expect? He said ye were comin’ by.”

“Yes,” Marinette tried to smile, and hoped she didn’t blush too hard at Luka’s name. Yes, hi, I kissed your son this morning and broke his heart, so this isn’t awkward at all. Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?

“He’s been working like a demon all day,” Anarka commented, lifting another tree down with a grunt. “He was drivin’ me crazy, bein’ so efficient, and I about bit his head off.” She glanced at Marinette, who tried hard not to look guilty. “Told him to make himself scarce for a bit. I think he went t’ take a shower, but he should be done by now.”

“Oh,” Marinette said lamely, trying very hard not to think of accidentally walking in on a freshly showered and not entirely dressed Luka. Maybe awkward small talk was for the best. “He, um. He said you were done for the year?”

“Aye, closed to the public fer the year,” Anarka smiled. “Though o’ course if there was anyone in town that needed anythin’ we’d open right back up. Nah, the public part of business is done for the year. Now it’s just all the work nobody sees.” She turned away from Marinette for a moment, walking over to the rail fence that separated the rows of trees. Marinette followed, unsure what else to do, her kit bumping against her knees as she carefully skirted the saplings.

“Never really thought I’d end up in a place like this,” Anarka said, leaning her elbows against the fence rails. “There’s a kinda poetry t’ it, though. Renewal. Rebirth. The old makin’ way for the young.” She winked at Marinette, and then went on. “I might not even be here by the time these trees are big enough t’ cut. Got a wandering foot, y’know, and it’ll take seven or eight years minimum for these to get the size where anyone would even consider cutting ‘em. Who’s to say I won’t be off to some new adventure by then? But they’ll still be here, growing, because I planted them. Endings, beginnings. Sometimes it’s hard to tell one apart from the other, aye?”

Marinette made a noise in reply automatically, but Anarka’s musings had put her thoughts on another track, and she barely heard the last bit.

Anarka eyed her sidelong for a moment, and then sighed and shoved herself off the fence, turning to smile at Marinette with her hand on her hips. “Out with it, lass, what’s on yer mind?”

Marinette blushed, snapping back to the present. “Nothing. It’s none of my business.”

“Maybe not,” Anarka shrugged. “Ye can still ask, though. If I don’t want to tell ye, I just won’t.”

Marinette shifted her weight and adjusted her grip on the handle of her kit, still uncomfortable, but...“Were you...disappointed?” she asked in a low voice. “When Luka gave up his career?”

Anarka laughed loud enough that it echoed back to them. “Nah, lass, I was proud . Luka was miserable, livin’ that life. It takes guts to admit that and come home, ‘specially when everyone around you is telling you how lucky ye are, having a talent and a chance like that. Like somehow you owe some cosmic debt and if ye don’t stick it out, yer wastin’ somethin’. Like success is a cookie cutter and ye have to slice away bits of yerself to make it fit.” She shook her head. “It’s not how I raised my kids. I taught them to take chances, and I taught them not to let fear make their decisions—and I also taught them that there’s no shame in what the world likes to call failure. There’s no shame in trying out the different shapes of success until you find one that fits, instead o’ tryin’ t’ force yerself into the one kind.”

Marinette blinked at her, surprised at the way her expression softened as she spoke.

Anarka was silent a moment and then sighed. “Still. You do your best to teach them, but you never know whether the lesson’s gonna stick. So when I think of the courage it took for Luka to walk away, to look so-called failure in the face and turn it into just another lesson learned, to find a way to believe that he’s still his father’s son even if he doesn’t follow in the old man’s footsteps—I’m so proud I could burst.” Marinette started slightly as Anarka suddenly stepped forward and put a surprisingly gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Luka’s never needed to prove his talent to me, lass. He’s still finding his feet again, and that’s okay. When he’s ready, he’ll make success fit him instead of the other way around, I’ve no doubt of that.” She squeezed Marinette’s shoulder, and looked at Marinette for a long moment. Marinette swallowed nervously, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Ankara let her hand drop and jerked her head towards the house. “Go on now, we’ve both got things to be doing. Go straight on in, he’ll be expecting you.” She turned back to her young trees, and Marinette, clearly dismissed, turned towards the house, butterflies surging back to life in her stomach. She was being stupid, she told herself. Luka had accepted her rejection gracefully, and tried so hard to make her comfortable. Marinette was sure she’d hurt his feelings if she suddenly got awkward about being around him, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Marinette sneaked a glance back towards Anarka, and then despite what she had been told, she knocked as loudly as she could. She lingered on the doorstep as long as she dared (which wasn’t very long, knowing that Anarka could see her not going on in), and let herself into the house. She could hear guitar music even before she got the creaky old door open, and once inside, she followed it to the great room. Luka was perched on the same fragile-looking chair as before, with an acoustic in his hands this time. He looked up as she entered, and smiled, laying his hand flat against the strings. His hair was damp, and his t-shirt sticking to him a little bit. He couldn’t have been out of the shower long and Marinette was kind of glad she’d stopped to talk to Anarka.

Luka stood up and put the guitar in a stand, and Marinette realized she hadn’t even said hi, but it seemed too late now. “I was starting to think Mom was going to talk your ear off before you made it up here,” Luka teased gently as he straightened.

“Oh, we were just, um—” Marinette winced. “Talking.” She was so lame, ugh.

“I saw through the window,” Luka grinned. “Figured you’d get here when you were ready. The stuff’s all in the attic, so…” He gestured towards the stairs, and then reached for her kit. “Can I get that for you?”

Too flustered to object politely, Marinette let him take it, and then followed him. She should say something, she thought, but she couldn’t think of anything.

She sighed mournfully as they climbed the stairs. Part of her ached for what he was offering—but she was pretty sure that same part wouldn’t want to let him go, and that was just...and really, she was such a disaster, and he was amazing, and he deserved so much better than someone who was so mixed up and wishy-washy. Why did they have to meet like this? Would it have been different if they met before?

Except before, she was with Adrien, too dazzled and in love to even see anyone else, and Luka had been a rock star, surrounded by all the glamorous women he could possibly want, and she had never really stood out, as Audrey loved to remind her. She just didn’t have Adrien’s celebrity magnetism, nor Audrey’s force of personality, so she was always overlooked. It was no wonder that nobody ever really saw her until she came here.

“Well, here we are,” Luka’s voice broke into her thoughts. He was reaching up to grab a hanging cord.

Marinette shook her head and slapped her cheeks as Luka pulled the attic ladder down and ascended it. None of this was actually solving the problem at hand. She needed to keep her mind on the costumes. Marinette had sketched out some ideas at home, thinking she could probably get some sheets to use as a base, and then maybe she could source some of the less expensive things from Luka’s old wardrobe for embellishments on the fancier things like the angels, or for the snaps and things. There was a single big box store in town, actually; the selection would be limited but surely she could find some things there too. This project was ridiculously easy, when it came down to it. She had a plan that would work, and it was all simple sewing, stuff she could do in her sleep. No sweat.

So why were her hands shaking?

She lifted her hands and watched them tremble before her eyes. She felt her breath getting short.

She started when a large hand closed over both of hers. “Marinette.” She looked up, and Luka was there, framed against the light coming down from the attic. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly, with a smile that was a little too wide. “Just, hoping there will be some stuff I can use.”

Luka smiled. “It’ll be fine. Come on up.” He shifted his hold to just one of her hands and drew her up the narrow stairs after him.

He let go of her hand once she was up, and Marinette looked around in mild surprise. The attic was cleaner than she expected. Cluttered, like the rest of the house, and full of things in piles and stacked, sometimes draped in sheets, but she didn’t encounter the dust she had expected, and the small, high windows were clean and let in plenty of light. She wondered if they were just carting things in and out of here so often that they kept it clean, or if they used the space for more than storage. There was a clear path to where they needed to be, and she followed Luka across the creaking floor.

Marinette waited nervously as he whisked the protective sheets off two racks of clothes. Marinette had to blink as the light hit the clothes; there were metal accents and rhinestones and metallic fabrics everywhere, and she was unprepared for the amount of light they threw back in her eyes.

“There it is,” Luka sighed, folding his arms as he sat on a trunk a short distance away. “Every bedazzled scrap of it.”

She had to giggle a little at that. Luke Stone had certainly favored ostentation, though that was almost unavoidable when you played with Jagged Stone.

Still, they didn’t have to, she thought, as she walked up and began mechanically sliding looks along the rack to have a look. They could have played up his simplicity. They could have made him stand out by contrast, rather than by imitation. She wondered if they were deliberately setting up an implied rivalry between father and son with their choices, or if they just hadn’t thought a rock star could be simple. Costume design wasn’t exactly the same thing as fashion design, but there was enough overlap that—

Marinette brought her thoughts back to the present, and swallowed as she stepped back again, suddenly overwhelmed. She turned away and opened her kit slowly, taking out the stack of drawings she’d left on top, suddenly profoundly dissatisfied with them. Rose and the kids expected her to work magic with this stuff, and all she had was a pile of generic toga-style costumes.

Simple. Uninspired. Pedestrian.

Her gut began to churn.

Marinette glanced at Luka nervously, and then jerked her gaze quickly away, but of course he caught it.

“I don’t have to be here if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said quietly. “I can go back downstairs and you can just call me if you need help with anything.”

That was so far from her thoughts that it gave her pause. “You...don’t make me uncomfortable,” she said, and looked back at him with a sad smile. “You never have. You’ve been...really wonderful, Luka, now matter how weird things got. I am uncomfortable, but it’s not about you.” Taking a breath, Marinette stepped back to the rack and ran her fingers down the fabric in front of her in a practiced motion, taking in the composition and the drape almost without conscious thought.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luka asked quietly.

Marinette thought about that for a moment, and then turned back to the garments on the rack. “Not tonight.” She couldn’t afford to get worked up now, she had to figure something out. She...she had to do something, she couldn’t just…

“Okay.” Luka said simply, and Marinette swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut. He was so understanding, but—what was she going to do? She couldn’t just drape the kids in sheets and call it a day, they deserved so much better than that. She had to figure something out, she had to—She put both hands in her hair and pulled it, trying to focus on the clothes in front of her, but her eyes stung. She squeezed them shut tight and held her breath, trying to keep it together.

Luka’s hands closed on her shoulders from behind, squeezing lightly, and Marinette turned to him in a rush, burying her face in his chest.

“Marinette, look at me,” he said, pushing her shoulders back gently and taking her face in his hands. “Just breathe, and look at me.”

Marinette stared up into his blue eyes, reflecting calm and assurance while all that fluttered in her chest was panic and self-doubt.

“Slow down,” he said emphatically. “It’s okay.”

“But I—” she began, and he shook his head.

“Marinette. There’s no failure here. Anything you put together will be better than moldy, moth-eaten rags. Without your help we’d all be frantically cutting armholes in pillowcases or something. No matter what you do, Rose will be ecstatic.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “These are the lowest possible stakes. You can’t screw up, so just have fun with it.”

Marinette turned her head out of his hands, looking at the designer, rock star wardrobe laid out for her to use. “But—”

Luka reached over and grabbed her fabric scissors out of her kit. He grabbed a shirt at random off the rack, and cut it in half in a ragged line. Marinette stared as he offered her the scissors back. “That’s how little I care about this stuff,” he grinned.

Marinette’s mouth closed abruptly and she glared at him, and would have snatched the scissors from them if they hadn’t been—well, scissors. Well-sharpened fabric scissors at that. Instead she took them with the appropriate amount of care even as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I might have needed that,” she told him, kicking his foot lightly.

“I have faith,” Luka grinned wider. “You’ll manage.”

She huffed and turned back to the garments, and looked at the second rack next to her. Luka backed away, leaning his elbows on an old dresser as he watched her.

Marinette studied the racks, and suddenly she pulled out her phone, swiping to the group photo she’d taken at the library today. She looked over the children there, at their dyed hair and punk haircuts and all-black outfits interspersed with riots of color, and began to smile a bit. “Okay,” she muttered, picking up a leather garment studded with rhinestones. “I guess this Christmas is about to get a little bit rock ‘n roll.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly.

Marinette barely noticed him, eyes lighting up as her mind began racing. She picked up the stack of designs she had done earlier and crumpled them absently in her hands. “I need my sketchbook,” she muttered.

“I’ll get it,” Luka said, shoving off the dresser and crossing the room. “Where?”

“I left it in my car. On the passenger seat, I think.”

Luka clattered down the stairs and out of the front door to grab Marinette’s sketchbook. Halfway back up the stairs he hesitated, and ducked into his room to grab his own notebook. Marinette practically snatched the book out of his hand, digging in her kit for her pencils, and Luka grinned, sitting back on the trunk again and resting his notebook on his knee.

He watched her, fascinated, as her focus narrowed to her task, and she began sketching, making notes and separating out items from the stacks of clothing he never thought he’d look at again. Luka began scribbling notes to himself as well, just...idle thoughts, the web of concepts and ideas that eventually came together to make a song, but he kept looking up to watch her, intrigued by her creative process. She muttered something to herself or tossed something aside with more vehemence than usual and he grinned.

Slowly, the attic transformed, suddenly strewn with gaudy clothes. Several distinct heaps were forming. Every once in a while Marinette would stop, and go back to her sketchbook, scratching in new details or ideas, or crossing something out with a sigh.

He jumped slightly, though, when she tossed the book aside with a little scream, and buried her face in her hands. “I’m such an idiot,” she muttered. “Why didn’t I think of that? It’s never going to hold up with that kind of weight, I’m so stupid —”

“Whoa,” Luka said, a little sharply than he’d meant to, putting his notebook aside and getting up quickly to go to her. “Hey, hey, hey, slow down. What’s wrong?”

“I just—I should have accounted for this, and I didn’t, and now I have to change it—”

“Okay, so change it,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders again to make her look at him. Marinette looked at him like he had two heads, and he almost laughed at her. “Marinette, you’re an artist, not a machine. It’s okay to backtrack and change your mind.” He smiled at her, hoping he looked reassuring and not enchanted. “I know every artist is different and music isn’t the same as fashion, but for me…” he shrugged. “Success comes from a series of small failures. You try something, and it mostly works, but something isn’t quite right, so you make a change and try again. That’s not something to be ashamed of or upset about. If you’re that frustrated, we could take a break. Or if you want to rework it some and come back tomorrow, that’s fine too. I’m not going anywhere.”

Marinette stared at him for a minute, her mouth working soundlessly. She looked down at the sketchbook in her hands, and then back up at him.

“Do you want to take a break?” Luka asked her.

“I...no,” she said. “It’s...it’s not that big of a deal, I’m pretty sure I can fix it if I...um—”

“Okay,” he said simply, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. He really wanted to hug her, to hold her tight and tell her how amazing he found her, how entranced he was watching her work, how alive she looked when she was creating, but—he couldn’t, so he squeezed her shoulders and then let his hands fall. “No need to explain it, I trust you.” He glanced down at the book, and then looked away. “Sorry, I’m not trying to peek, but that—that looks really badass.” He couldn’t help looking again, and, blushing, Marinette turned the book so he could see. His smile grew as he looked at it. “That’s amazing, Marinette, what are you worrying about? If it looks half this cool in real life we’re going to have to have someone standing by to give Rose oxygen.”

Marinette giggled, and looked back down at it herself. “You really think so?” she murmured, with a small smile that made his heart skip. Just when he thought she couldn’t get any sweeter.

“I definitely think so,” Luka told her, backing away. He sat down on the floor this time, leaning back against the trunk. He groped behind him blindly for his notebook and nearly knocked it off the far side of the trunk.

Marinette gave a pleased hum, and then took a deep breath before her brows furrowed into her concentration face. Luka drew his knees up and leaned one elbow on them, smiling like the fool he was.

There were a few more frustrated groans, but no more spirals, and Luka kept quietly in his place even as piles of fabric grew around him. Finally she sat back and sighed. “I think that’s everything I’m going to need.”

“Cool.” Luka looked up from his notebook and smiled.

“I’m so sorry about the mess,” Marinette gasped, looking around as if she had only just now realized the chaos she had created. “I can help you clean it up—”

Luka cut her off with a laugh. “You’re welcome to,” he chuckled, “but there’s really no need. Clutter is a way of life around here. Trust me, the only reason they were so organized to begin with is because they were delivered that way.” His eyes fell to her sketchbook. “Can I see what you have in mind?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any more.

Marinette tensed up immediately, biting her lip. She looked at the book and then at Luka, and then she offered it to him.

Luka took it, though his eyes stayed on her, concerned and a little baffled by her hesitation when the one sketch he’d seen had been so cool. Marinette turned back to the pile of garments she had chosen, though, and so he let his eyes fall and began looking through the few pages of sketches she had made, careful not to go beyond even though he was aching to see more. A slow smile grew on his face as he looked, and he shook his head slightly. “The angels are still my favorite, but these are amazing, Marinette. You might want to get some earplugs because Rose is going to shatter glass when she sees these.” He grinned up at her. “I knew you could do it.”

She smiled faintly, but looked away. “They’re just pictures, though. I still have to actually execute the designs.”

“Hey,” Luka said, reaching a hand up towards her. Marinette blinked in surprise, but she slowly stepped forward and put her hand in his. He tugged gently, and she sank to her knees in front of him. “ Yeah, you might have to make some changes when you go to actually put it together, but that’s part of the process for everybody. Sometimes a song I thought was finished doesn’t work out right the first time I play it with the band, and I have to make some changes.” He hesitated, and then went on. “I don’t know what’s going on in there,” he poked her forehead gently. “And I’m not exactly up on fashion, but—” he gestured at the racks of clothes. “I have some experience too, and I gotta say…” he shook his head, and turned the sketchbook towards her. “You outclass anybody else I’ve worked with by far.”

Marinette blushed deeply. “They’re just costumes,” she murmured, tucking her hair back as she looked away.

“They could have been, but they’re not.” Luka offered her the book back. “Marinette.” He waited until she looked at him. “Do you like them?”

Marinette looked back at the drawings, and bit her lip. Her face was growing red again. “Yes,” she finally admitted quietly.

Luka put his fingers under her chin and tipped her face back up. “Stop thinking so hard,” he said gently. “I know it’s easy to lose faith in yourself, but...you’re creating something, you have to find a way to tune all of that stuff out and just be in that moment. You can deal with the aftermath afterwards.” He grinned. “That’s what editing is for, right? Or so I’m told. I was never any good at it.”

Marinette smiled. “That’s why your music was so good. It was...raw, instinctive. Still polished, but deeply emotional. It’s why I always loved it.”

It was Luka’s turn to flame up red, and Marinette giggled.

“That wasn’t fair,” he huffed, pulling his knees up to hide his face in his arms for a moment.

Marinette laughed harder. “How many thousands of records sold and you blush at a little old compliment from a fan?” she teased.

Luka turned his face on his arms so that he was looking at her. “You’re not just any fan,” he said, and smiled at the pink returning to her cheeks. He sighed, raising his head, and letting his legs fall and cross beneath him again. “Don’t ever let anyone let you feel like you’re not special, Marinette.”

“It’s definitely not a problem when I’m with you,” she said, and then bit her lip, like it had slipped out without her intending it to.

“Good,” he grinned, and then decided he’d better move before he did something stupid. “So, show me what you need me to take down to the car for you, and we’ll just leave the rest of it like this until you’re done in case you need to come back for something.”

“Oh,” Marinette’s eyes widened slightly and she scrambled to her feet. “Right.”

She told him which piles of clothes she wanted to take, and Luka got some bags and gathered them up. Marinette made a token effort at tidying up, despite Luka having told her to leave it. She hung a few things back on the rack, and paused suddenly, hand hovering over a jacket still on the rack.

Marinette picked it up slowly, looking at it. The scent of leather and something like electronics hit her nose, and her eyes widened slightly. She felt around the bottom hem and found something hard and rectangular there. Another minute of searching, and the jacket lit up in her hands, the fiber optic lights sewn into the seam pulsing faintly.

Marinette laughed a little, and crossed over to the trunk Luka had been using as a chair all afternoon. She sat down and spread the jacket across her lap. She remembered this. He’d been wearing it at the show she’d gone to. They’d started with all the lights off and just Luka on stage, wearing this jacket and the pants that went with it, making him just an electric outline on the stage when the curtain went up.

Hard to reconcile that image with the guy from the tree farm, she thought affectionately. But then, he’d always had a reputation for being a sweetheart, good to his fans and generous with his time, so...maybe it wasn’t so hard to believe.

At least this contraption is well made, she thought, running a finger along one of the light tubes. It was still secure after all this time, and clearly in working order.

The lights began to flash and jump around, and Marinette giggled. It had started that right before Luke had swept his hand up and down in a dramatic power chord that had rattled her teeth. Once again it was hard to reconcile them in her mind. It was almost funny, now that she knew Luka, remembering those dramatics.

The light reflected back off something in the corner of her eye, and when she looked, she saw it was the metal coil of Luka’s notebook, half buried under a pile of clothes he had shoved out of the way. She picked the notebook up and smiled a little bit as she did so; the page was a mess, full of scratched out lines, and the writing went every which way in a complicated web. Was this how his mind worked? It was so different from her own process—

Jewels Diamonds in the sands of time Those are my memories with you And even if it’s only a precious few They’re the ones I’ll keep when everything else flows away

It made Marinette think of her first fashion show, when she’d been new and excited about the garments she was putting out there, excited and happy. That moment shone jewel-bright in her memory, despite all the drudgery that had followed it. That was she was working for, after all, another chance at that feeling. All of this frustration would be worth it if she could have another moment like that.

Marinette blinked back to reality and suddenly realized what she was doing. She slammed her eyes shut and turned the notebook over in her lap. Oh, she shouldn’t have looked at that, she thought frantically, her heart suddenly beating triple time. This—this was private, just like her designs were, and she shouldn’t have—but she hadn’t meant to—

Luka’s heavy boots thunked on the stairs and Marinette jumped, dropping the notebook so that it landed on the floor splayed open with an inelegant smack . Marinette scrambled up and hurriedly grabbed it again. She hastily smoothed it out as Luka came the rest of the way up into the attic. “Oh, I think this one is yours,” she said, holding it out to him.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Luka said, curling it in half and sticking it in his back pocket. Marinette tried not to wince. “Anything else?” His eyes landed on the jacket in her hands. “Oh, I see you found the switch,” he chuckled.

“Will you put it on?” Marinette blurted, and Luka raised his eyebrows at her. “Please?” she smiled, hunching her shoulders slightly as she held it up.

Eyebrows still raised, Luka took it, and slipped it on. He grimaced slightly as he zipped it up. “Definitely doesn’t fit as comfortably as it used to,” he commented, tugging down on the hem. “Not too bad, though.”

“You probably build muscles in different places, hauling trees,” Marinette said absently, stepping forward to adjust the way it sat across his shoulders for a moment. “Not as uniform a workout as using a personal trainer. It gives you a more natural build.” She smiled a little as she smoothed the arms and stepped back.

“It still looks good on you,” she observed. “You were wearing this at the concert I went to. The first time I saw you live.”

Luka smiled ruefully. “Doesn’t exactly have the same effect in my attic, does it?”

“No,” Marinette smiled back. “It was a wonderful performance, though, and I guess I wasn’t expecting to be reminded of it just now.” She bit her lip and asked in a rush, “Were you...were you writing a song? Just now?” She gestured vaguely toward his pocket.

Luka looked a little taken aback, but not offended. “I was starting to,” he admitted. “I...really enjoy the time we spend together, and it was really nice, seeing a new side of you today. I guess I felt a little inspired, yeah.”

Marinette’s breath caught. “It was...about me?”

“About you and me, yeah,” he admitted. “Does that bother you?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “No!” How could he think she’d be offended by such a thing? It was...it was amazing, that she’d inspired anything in him, when she was so—and—how she had felt, in that first fashion show, was he...was he saying he felt that way with her ? She shied away from the idea even as she thought it, it was so...so much, and she was so—she was—

Oh no. Luka was looking at her intently, a slight crease in his forehead. She tried to think of something to say, but her internal meltdown was too complete, and she just stared at him.

“You’re extraordinary, Marinette,” Luka said softly, and his expression was completely serious and not at all flirtatious. “Getting to see you work today was a privilege. I’m better for meeting you, even if my heart breaks when you’re gone. It’s...it’s a long way from being a song, but I meant it.”

“But I’m…”

Luka shook his head slightly, a smile softening his expression. “You’re what, Marinette? Tell me everything, I want to hear all of it.”

Marinette gaped. “You—you—how do you do that?” she cried, throwing her hands up. “You’re sweet and kind and you have an amazing talent but you’re so laid back and grounded and—”

“And you are all of those things too,” Luka laughed. “Except maybe the laid back part.” He grinned, and Marinette made a face at him. “You kinda maybe worry too—”

Marinette had taken two large steps toward him. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled. Luka staggered, grabbing on to her shoulders as she dragged him down and kissed him.

He made a very undignified noise even as his arms were coming down to wrap around her. Marinette couldn’t hold the kiss very long; she hadn’t taken a good breath and her nose was smashed against his cheek, so she was forced to break it before Luka really even had a chance to respond.

Luka sucked in a breath, blinking at her. “Are you sure?” he blurted, and then looked like he wanted to kick himself. Marinette had to giggle, giddy with elation and adrenaline, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.

“No,” she told him when she was able, and a little shiver of fear went up her spine before she stomped it down again. “But I’ve never met anybody like you and...anyway, you’re right. It’s stupid to be tearing myself up over it when I could just be kissing you instead.”

“Very logical,” he laughed, and Marinette kicked his shin lightly.

“Take off this ridiculous jacket,” she told him, tugging. “I can’t take you seriously in this thing.”

“I don’t know, I’m suddenly a lot fonder of it than I was a moment ago,” Luka grinned, putting his hands over hers on the lapels. His tone was teasing, but his thumbs caressed the backs of her hands, and there was a light in his eyes that had her heart galloping all over again.

She slipped her hands away, and Luka fumbled at the hem until he found the switch, turned the lights off, and shrugged the jacket off, dropping it carelessly on the trunk beside them before reaching for her again.

They were still wrapped up in each other when Rose popped her head in the attic looking for them, and rattled the windows with her scream.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #promptfic

62 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles - The Longest Night

Find the prompt list here!

Luka played assistant while Marinette got the kids all garbed in their costumes, making little final adjustments and snipping hanging threads and acting for all the world as if this was just as serious as any fashion show she’d ever worked, instead of the dress rehearsal for a small town library Christmas pageant. He followed her around, holding things, handing her what she needed, and trying not to get caught mooning over her like the lovesick sap he was. The kids already had plenty of ammo to use against him, so he tried to keep a professional demeanor—but that really probably only made them snicker harder.

Mostly, though, they were too excited about their outfits to care. Marinette had found a way to interpret the costumes that felt true to who these kids were, and that was probably rarer than it should be.

The angels in particular were a masterpiece, especially given how little white there was in his rock star wardrobe. They glittered and shimmered with all of the hardware and rhinestones, and their wings were dangerous-looking concoctions made of wire and trailing fabric and dangling crystals and beads. They looked like the kinds of beings who would have to announce their presence with “Fear not!” and it was awesome.

The angels weren’t actually his favorite part, though. Marinette had gotten quickly flustered in the face of Rose’s eager excitement, and started making excuses to leave. She’d snatched his notebook out of his pocket, pulled the pen out of the coil and scribbled her phone number on the back, babbling only semi-coherently as she did so. Then she’d snatched up the lighted jacket, kissed him quickly, and fled. Luka had been too busy fending off Rose’s interrogation to even think to question why she had taken the jacket, until she brought out the costumes for Mary and Joseph. The holy family were now softly illuminated with cleverly concealed fiber optic lights in their hoods. Somehow Marinette had managed to turn off the flashing and camouflage the lights enough to give the children a soft glow, like a renaissance painting come to life (if renaissance madonnas had punk haircuts).

That wasn’t really why he liked it, though. Marinette had removed the lights so carefully, and repaired the jacket so cleverly, that it was now as good as new, if a bit smaller than it had been, and she had taken to wearing it all the time. Catching a glimpse of his jacket under her big pink puffy winter coat made him grin like a fool every time.

She was wearing it even now, and he felt his grin turn dopey and soft again as he watched Marinette get down on the floor without a second thought to fix a hem that had come loose. She was so amazing, and the last few days had been wonderful, whether they were just driving aimlessly around town and chatting while they admired the lights, or lost in tender looks and touches, or just sharing space while they worked on their own projects. Luka knew without doubt that he was utterly in love with her. It might shatter him when she left, but they had four precious days left and Luka planned to make the most of them. Besides, who knew what could happen? It was the modern age, and long distance relationships were a thing, and surely there was something they could work out—

Luka quashed those thoughts as quickly as he could. It wasn’t a good idea to be thinking that way, and he didn’t even know if Marinette would welcome anything of the kind from him. Better to stay in the moment. Something would work out; if she felt anything close to what he felt for her, she couldn’t leave him totally behind...and if she didn’t, then it was just as well for things to end now. He’d get over it. Somehow.

In the meantime, he’d enjoy every conversation, every soft look, every touch and kiss and sigh of his name from her lips.

Yep, he was absolutely basking in the knowledge of how completely hopeless he was.

Marinette stood up and backed away, looking at her handiwork with satisfaction as Rose began rounding up the kids to start the actual rehearsal. Luka sidled casually to Marinette’s side, letting his hand brush against hers. She wiggled her fingers in between his absently, and Luka grinned that stupid grin again, aiming it at the floor.

Teenage giggling suggested that he wasn’t at all successful in hiding it. He rolled his eyes, but the grin remained. Beat it , he mouthed at the kid who was snickering, raising his eyebrows threateningly, but instead the kid burst into outright laughter and a chorus of juvenile “ooooohs,” suddenly filled the air. Confused, they followed the pointing fingers and looked up to find one of the youngsters sitting on the bookshelf behind them, holding a piece of mistletoe out over their heads.

Luka rolled his eyes. “Oh, very funny, Rowan,” he scoffed, but then he turned and caught Marinette’s face in his hands and kissed her. Without lifting his lips from hers, he hooked one arm around her neck and the other around her waist and bent her backwards. The liplock itself wasn’t anything special—he wasn’t about to ravish her in front of a bunch of schoolkids, particularly since he knew all of their parents personally and did not need the earful they would give him—but it didn’t matter; the utterly cliche dip was as gross to them as a real kiss would have been.

“EW!” screamed the younger children, while the older ones either whooped or groaned, and Luka sent them a wicked grin as he set Marinette back up on her feet.

“Never bluff a Couffaine,” he told them, reaching out to ruffle Rowan’s multicolored head as he dropped down frm the bookshelf. Rose gave him a smug look as she came to retrieve the delinquents, and Luka couldn’t even make himself glare at her.

Marinette smacked his chest and he just winked at her, catching her hand and holding it to his heart. He got a little charge from the way her stern face twitched and then melted into a smile almost as silly as his own. He bent down as if drawn by a magnet and their lips met for a softer, more genuine kiss, and then she shoved his face away and turned back to watch the wise men start their parade to Bethlehem from the back of the library.

Luka looped his arms around Marinette’s waist and shook his head slightly as he watched the shepherds, decked in shredded leather and ripped denim and artistically mussed as though they really had been lounging around a field, cower before the rhinestone-studded angel glittering brilliantly in the light of the old spot Rose had bullied or begged from somewhere. “You’re a genius,” he murmured in her ear.

She tensed a little, but snuggled back in his arms. Luka sighed softly and nuzzled her temple, wishing he could help her, but whatever she was going through in her creative life, she was going to have to figure out for herself. He found her hand with his again and laced her slender, hard-working fingers through his own.

They both jumped when the library doors flew open with a bang. Everyone jumped or stiffened, and a room full of wide eyes turned to look at the tall, blond woman wearing an absurdly large hat and a fur stole stomp into the library like it was a fashion runway.

Luka felt Marinette gasp, and tightened his hold on her.

The woman looked around, and demanded in a voice that echoed off the walls. “Well, where is she? Marinette Dupain-Cheng, get out here this instant or you’re fired .”

Marinette pushed him away, and walked toward the tall woman, who spun on her heels to face her. “A-Audrey,” Marinette stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“My dear, the question is, what are you doing here?” Audrey replied with a sniff, looking around the little library. “No wonder you haven’t been able to get any work done in this dismal place.”

“Audrey, I’m on leave,” Marinette began, and Audrey flapped a hand dismissively.

“Leave, schmeave. We have deadlines , Marinette. Deadlines you are appallingly behind on.”

“B-behind?” Marinette stuttered, looking taken aback. “We were on schedule! I left very specific instructions!” Luka came up behind her and put a hand on her back in silent support.

“Those instructions were ridiculous ,” Audrey sneered. “The products were completely unacceptable. And since you didn’t deign to answer my calls, I came to fetch you myself. If you weren’t so talented I would have just fired you on the spot for abandoning things in such a state.”

He felt Marinette tense under his hand, and her fists clenched. “Unacceptable—Audrey, you approved those designs! If the production team—”

“ You are the designer,” Audrey accused, pointing an immaculately manicured finger in Marinette’s face. She flinched, and Luka had to fight every instinct in his body to keep still. “This is your failure. Now come along. You have a lot to make up for. Get in the car, we’ll stop and pick up your things on the way.” She turned and stalked to the door, clearly expecting Marinette to follow.

Marinette stared after her with her mouth open. Then she closed it, swallowed, and straightened her shoulders—and moved to follow Audrey.

Luka caught her hand without meaning to. “Marinette,” he said, and she turned her face to look up at him. For a moment they just stared at each other, and cold dread coiled in the pit of Luka’s stomach.

“I guess this is it,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Luka. Goodbye.”

Luka stared at her as her hand slipped out of his. She picked up her pink coat as she passed the chair where he had placed it earlier. She dug in the pocket a moment, and took out a box, putting it on the table. She took one look back at him, and then followed Audrey out, catching the door so that it closed with a quiet click instead of a slam.

“Luka,” Rose whispered at his side, and he barely even felt her touch on his arm. He watched through the windows of the library door as Marinette, head down, shoulders bowed, got into Audrey’s limo.

Only when the car pulled away down the street could he move. He closed his mouth, and swallowed. Then he went quietly to his own coat, and put it on slowly, aware of the eyes on him the entire time.

He emerged into the sun and cold, fresh air, and looked around. The street was as it always was this time of year, with families and couples and individuals meandering through. Tinsel decorations sparkled on the streetlights, and the storefronts all had fake snow frosting the corners of their windows.

Luka blinked against the glare, so bright it brought tears to his eyes, put his hands in his pockets, and turned for home.

***

Marinette didn’t even hear most of Audrey’s chatter on the ride back to the city. She couldn’t stop thinking about that look on Luka’s face.

I should never have kissed him , she thought, staring out of the window. I knew better, and I let him make me believe .

She sighed—silently, so as not to draw Audrey’s notice. She wasn’t being fair. Of course it was a shock, what happened. Neither of them had been expecting it. There had been no bittersweet farewell, no moment of closure. No last kiss goodbye, no one last diamond moment to hold on to as the sands began to flow again.

He would get over it, once the shock passed, she thought mournfully, running an absent finger over the leather wrap on the door handle. He’d send her a text later, she was sure, something sweet and thoughtful, to let her know he was alright and that he was sorry things happened the way they had, but good luck and have a good life and oh, thanks for the present, that was really sweet.

And then he’d go back to his cozy life and forget her like he intended to all along.

She was so stupid , letting him talk her into living that little fantasy for even a day, let alone—

She shook her head slightly. This was better. It only would have been worse if she’d stayed longer.

...at least she had the memories to hold in her heart, though. He’d been right about that. She could remember what it was like to feel like he loved her, his affection and pride and unwavering support, his warm, sweet kisses, and the way that he looked at her…the way everyone giggled at them in the cafe. The quiet, private times when she’d curled in the hollow of his body as he held his guitar around her and played just for her, and she hadn’t had to do anything or be anything. The time he’d taken her up on the hill and they’d stood amongst the young trees, cuddled close against the chill as they looked up at the stars and for once she felt like the universe was big enough to let her breathe...

She fingered the lapel of his jacket beneath her own. Okay, maybe he’d been right too. Maybe the memories were worth having.

If only she could have stayed.

She gave another small shake of her head, blinking back tears, keeping her face averted from Audrey slightly.

“And the colors were atrocious —”

“I told you the color scheme was wrong,” Marinette said before she could think the better of it.

“It’s your job to make it work,” Audrey snapped. “ You sourced those fabrics.”

“According to your specifications,” Marinette shot back, her tone even but unyielding. “If you want to overrule me, that’s your prerogative, but don’t blame me for the outcome.”

Audrey pulled off her ever-present sunglasses and looked at Marinette with narrowed eyes. “If you don’t want this opportunity,” she said coldly, “then say so and stop wasting my time.”

Marinette shrank slightly. “Of course I do,” she sighed miserably, looking back out of the window. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Audrey sneered, sliding her sunglasses back on. “Or I’ll find someone else to clean up your mess.”

Marinette gritted her teeth and clenched her fists in her lap, willing herself to stay silent.

Speaking up wouldn’t do any good anyway.

***

He was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly into space, when Rose got home. Luka didn’t even hear the door open, but he did hear Rose’s footsteps approaching over the wood floor.

“Luka,” Rose said softly, but he didn’t look at her. She set a small box on the table in front of him. “I’m pretty sure this was meant for you.” When he didn’t move, she slid it over until it touched his fingers. “You should open it.”

She waited a moment longer, and when he didn’t move, she sighed. “I’m sorry, Luka.” He listened to her retreat, leaving him alone again.

Sometime later he felt fingers slide through his hair, and the familiar song of his mother’s jangling jewelry was quickly followed by her scent surrounding him as she bent and pressed her lips to his forehead. “I’m proud of ye, son,” she told him. “Take as long as ye need.”

He sat there until it was dark outside, without really thinking about anything in particular. He just felt...numb.

Finally he looked at the box Rose had left him. He contemplated it for a moment, and then drew himself up with a sigh, and picked up the box. It was a nice box, lined in silver ribbon. Trust Marinette to pay attention to every detail. He fumbled it a little before he managed to slide the top off.

There was a pair of black leather gloves inside. Luka frowned slightly, picking them up. The leather was buttery soft, like it was already broken in, and...he slid one on his hand and flexed his fingers.

It fit perfectly, with none of the tightness or resistance that had always bothered him in the past. “You little sneak,” he murmured, tears stinging his eyes even as he smiled. “How’d you pull this off, hmm?”

Luka remembered suddenly how they’d been talking at Sally’s, and she had walked her little fingers over each finger of his hand, like it was something completely idle. He’d thought it was cute at the time. He’d thought she was just teasing him, since she pulled her hand away every time he tried to take it, but…

He’d be willing to put money on it that she had used some of the leather from his wardrobe to make these, and she’d chosen something he’d worn enough to take the stiffness out of the leather. And the accents around the cuffs and along the darts at the back of the hands...those were from the jacket she’d kept. The one she’d had to cut down when she took the lights out.The one she’d still been wearing, when she walked out today.

Luka swallowed a lump in his throat. All that work that she’d done, on the children’s costumes, and she’d found time to do this for him as well. Because she cared about him, and she loved his music, and she wanted him to take care of his hands.

“Marinette,” he sighed, letting his head fall on the table. “You’re killing me here.”

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there after that before Juleka’s hand rested lightly on his back. She didn’t say anything, just stayed there, and after a minute, he lifted his head and leaned it back on her. She stroked his hair just like his mother had.

“You need a ride to the bus station in the morning?” Juleka asked.

Luka closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

60 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles - Wait

Find the prompt list here!

Luka glanced at the screen showing the bus’s ETA. He hated waiting. Those last five minutes before a show started had always been torture; not enough time to do anything useful or distract himself and too much time to think about useless things. Which is what he was doing now.

Because this was crazy, even for him, he admitted to himself as he adjusted the strap of his guitar across his chest, and then shifted his grip on the duffel bag at his side. He didn’t even know where he was going, not really, and his only hope was to text Marinette when he got to the city and hope she was willing to see him. He had money (though not as much as people often assumed he did), so he could find a place to stay for a few days, but that was the extent of his plans. He was pretty sure he could find her boss on the internet if he had to look, and find out where her office was, but he hoped she would just text him back because he really didn’t want to have to resort to creepy stalker tactics to see her, but...

He just had to see her. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he had to see her again.

Yeah, that’s really a plan, Couffaine.

Even so, he hadn’t questioned the decision even once since he made it. Even if she turned him around and sent him right back home, he had to try. He couldn’t move forward without at least knowing that he had tried, that he hadn’t just let her walk out of his life without a word of protest. If it had to end, he wanted to at least have told her he loved her to her face. He wanted to at least kiss her goodbye properly.

He really hoped he wouldn’t have to, though.

The bus pulled up, and he sighed in relief as the baggage handlers ran up to open the cargo compartment. He’d still be waiting on the bus, but at least it would be a long enough wait that he could do something. Maybe work on that song. Maybe come up with something to say to Marinette besides “I love you beyond all reason and I’m more than willing to sleep on your floor and play dive bars every night for a living if it means I get to see you every day.”

He wasn’t so much watching the people exiting the bus, though his eyes were turned in that direction, waiting for some indication that they were ready for the return passengers to board, when a splash of pink emerging from the doorway caught his eye. A pink business suit, half-covered by a very familiar jacket...for a moment he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, until she tripped on the bus steps and nearly landed herself in the snow.

“Marinette?” he breathed. Her face turned towards him as she scanned the station, and he couldn’t move. It was her, she was here, she—

She came back.

She didn’t make any move towards the baggage they were still unloading from under the bus, just settled her little purse on her shoulder, looked around, and then seemed to pick a direction.

Without thinking, he sucked in a lungful of air and bellowed her name.

She jumped and whirled around, stumbling again, and then her eyes widened as she spotted him. If he’d had any doubts about why she came back, they disappeared the moment she saw him. Her entire face lit up. “Luka!” she cried, and he dropped his things without a thought to run and catch her up in his arms.

Marinette threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “I understand now,” she told him, her voice trembling. “I don’t like the person that I am back there. I just—I was standing there while Audrey tore it apart, and all I could think about was that I didn’t even care because they weren’t my clothes, they were hers, so really she was only criticizing herself, and...and I realized I hadn’t made anything that was mine in a long time. I tried to change her mind, but...she wouldn’t listen. So I...I just walked out. I walked out and I went straight to the bus station and…” She swallowed, blushing as she looked at him. “And I came home.”

Luka’s heart was so full he didn’t have any words, but it didn’t seem to matter, based on the way she smiled at him, choking back a little sob, and began to laugh. “I didn’t even bring any clothes.”

“You can wear mine,” he promised recklessly, and then nearly bit off his own tongue when her eyes widened and he realized how that had sounded. “I mean—uh—”

Marinette just shook her head slightly and giggled, and then she stretched up on her toes and he forgot everything else but the soft, warm movement of her mouth as she kissed him, without the slightest hesitation. “We can negotiate the clothes situation later,” she grinned, as his brain continued to implode in slow motion.

“I love you,” he blurted as soon as he could remember what words were, and he didn’t even wait for Marinette to answer before he was kissing her again, trying to press the words into her lips over and over again as she tried to laugh and return his kisses at the same time.

There was a cough behind him. “Sir?”

Luka glanced back to find one of the bus station employees eyeing him. “Were you going to get on the bus?” she asked finally.

“Ah,” Luka said, blinking at the bus. “No, thanks.” He turned back to Marinette, grinning. “I think I’m good right here.”

Marinette giggled, and if he’d thought she was beautiful before, she sparkled now, her brow smooth and unwrinkled, her shoulders straight and relaxed, her blue eyes clear of everything but happy tears.

“Are we going to stand here all day?” Marinette teased, squeezing his arm. “Because it’s freezing and I could really go for soup and tea at Sally’s.”

Luka laughed from pure joy, and tucked her under his arm, bringing her along with him as he went to pick up the things he had let fall.

She looked curiously down at his bag, her forehead wrinkling just a bit, and then up at him. “Were you going to go somewhere?” She blinked, as if suddenly realizing something. “Why are you even here?”

Luka flushed. “Well. I had maybe sort of a stupid half-baked plan that I was going to find the girl of my dreams and throw myself at her feet, but…” He grinned. “Taking her to lunch sounds like a lot less work.”

Marinette snuggled up against his side. “You were...really going to come after me?”

“Yeah,” Luka admitted. “I just...didn’t really like the way we left things. I felt like I needed to see you again, at least once. There were just too many things I didn’t get to say, and…” he sighed. “I just couldn’t let you walk out of my life without even trying to work something out. I meant what I said back there.”

“Luka,” Marinette said, and he glanced down at her. The look on her face as she smiled up at him took his breath away, and her words stopped his heart. “I love you too.”

Luka dropped all of his things for the second time and caught her face in his gloved hands, kissing her firmly. When he pulled back, Marinette was giving him the same dopey grin he’d been wearing before she left, and Luka had to laugh. He bent his knees and caught her around the waist and lifted, spinning her around. Their lips met as she came down, and he followed her until her feet were back on the ground, not at all sure that his ever would be again.

When he pulled back, though, he frowned. “Did you get taller?”

Marinette burst out laughing, and collapsed against him.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #promptfic

58 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles - Change

Find the prompt list here!

She was crisp and professional, her makeup perfect, and she stood easily, if not comfortably, in the heels she had spent years trying to master. She’d done her hair up in a professional, competent style, and she looked every inch the businesswoman she was, and the fashion mogul she one day hoped to be.

The only thing out of place on her was her jacket, and Marinette took it off and folded it over her arms before she opened the heavy wooden door.

“Much better,” Audrey sniffed as Marinette walked into the atelier, on time to the minute despite the obscenely early hour. “I’m glad to see the country rube look was just a temporary affliction.”

“I was on vacation,” Marinette reminded her, laying her jacket over a chair. Her fingers lingered on it a moment before she took off her purse and set it down in the seat of the chair.

“What was on vacation was your taste, clearly. Sabrina!” Audrey’s assistant jumped up, hurrying to remove the dust covers from the row of mannequins standing there. “Look at this disaster,” Audrey snapped, and Marinette winced as the garments emerged. “If I put this on the runway, the audience will be asleep in minutes!”

“This is fixable,” Marinette said thoughtfully, circling the mannequin. “It’s not ideal, but, there’s parts of this we can work with. This is an opportunity, really.”

Audrey snorted. “Do tell.”

Marinette turned to her. “Audrey, all the complaints on the last line were that it was too commercial, too—well, too safe. We can have these remade, but it would be a waste. They’ll still come out boring and unoriginal, because they are. But if we can get creative and think outside of the box, we can turn this whole thing around. Look—Sabrina, hand me those scissors—” She moved towards one of the dresses, and reached for the fabric. “If we just—”

“What do you think you are doing?” Audrey snarled, grabbing her wrist with a perfectly manicured hand. “You won’t touch anything here without my approval first!”

“Audrey,” Marinette sighed, facing her again, aware that her exasperation was showing in her face and not particularly caring to hide it. “I can’t do this. You hired me for my vision. Let me use it! This, this process you’re trying to force me through, it’s crushing me. I understand, you want some control over the final product, and I’m fine with that, but there comes a point where I need you to trust me. I’ll make mistakes, sure, but Audrey—” She turned and held her hands up as she gestured to the line laid out in front of her. “This whole season is a mistake right now! We tried it your way and we got this.” She turned back to Audrey. “Let me be the designer you hired,” she pleaded, eyes alight. “This is what I’m good at. Let me turn this around for you! Just...trust me.”

Audrey’s eyes narrowed. “Are you finished?” she said coldly.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open a little, and her back straightened.

“Apparently,” she murmured, as Audrey stalked past her.

“Trusting you is what got me into this mess,” Audrey fumed. “I brought you under my wing, and you made me a laughing stock—”

“That’s not true, Audrey, I know I still have a lot to learn but I’m not—”

“I put my name in your hands—”

“I was inexperienced, I made some mistakes, but that line was not a—”

“Despite your multiple failures, I keep giving you more chances. And now you ask me to trust you? Don’t make me laugh.” Audrey whirled and bent down so that her eyes were level with the petite designer. “And if you can’t handle the pressure,” Audrey sneered, “then maybe you’re not cut out for this business.”

“Maybe I’m not cut out for your business,” Marinette said softly.

They stood, eye to eye for a moment, and then Audrey’s eyes narrowed. “You know how to find the door any time you’re ready,” she bit out, and for another, completely silent moment, neither of them moved. Apparently feeling her point had been made, Audrey straightened and turned around. “Now,” she said crisply. “Here’s what we’re going to do—”

Marinette took a deep breath, and while Audrey prattled on, she turned on the point of her heel and started walking. Sabrina stared at her with wide eyes as Marinette picked up her coat—Luka’s coat—and walked calmly out of the office, sliding it on and pulling it tight around her.

She heard the scream just as the elevator doors were closing, and began to giggle, putting one hand across her mouth and feeling her eyes crinkle up with her mirth.

Several heads turned to her when she arrived at the lobby, and she smiled brightly at all of them. More than one smiled back, but Marinette didn’t slow or speak, just turned towards the tall glass doors.

She was only halfway across the lobby before Audrey burst out of the other elevator.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Audrey roared. “Get back here or you’re fired.”

Marinette choked on another slightly hysterical laugh, and her step only quickened, her heels slamming into the marble tile of the lobby, the clacking loud enough to make the guard at the desk turn and stare. She flashed him a quick smile as she passed, and he grinned at her, sitting back in his chair. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette thought she saw him mouth, about time, but then she was walking through the doors and the winter sun was blinding her. She stood for a moment in front of the doors, blinking, and then took a couple of quick steps forward and threw up her arm to hail a cab. One veered out of the traffic and pulled up at the curb.

Marinette jerked the door open and nearly threw herself inside. She picked both feet up off the pavement and swung them inside, and then pulled the door closed after her.

“The 6th street bus station, please,” she said breathlessly, buckling herself in. As the cab pulled out, she fell back into her seat, and brought shaking hands to her cheeks.

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

59 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles - Dressing Up 1

Okay, well, obviously this month didn't go anything like I planned, but I'm at least gonna finish the Hallmark AU! It's mostly written, I'm just finalizing it and taking care of all the boring stuff I always skip when I write the first draft! So never fear, we'll finish it before February. I think we have...three, maybe four pieces left to go (famous last words).

This is actually part 1 of 2--partly because I realized that what I had planned for this prompt worked better as two separate scenes and partly because I haven't quite finished part 2 yet anyway, so might as well split it so I can publish this part!

This was partly inspired by The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

Find the prompt list here!

Marinette was sure she would never get used to this small town thing where people popped by without warning. She gave a slightly mournful glance at the pot of coffee that had just finished brewing, and went to get the door with a sigh.

Luka Couffaine stood on the other side, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a bouquet of multicolored flowers. He had that same look of longsuffering he’d worn when he’d come with his mother, but it softened into a smile as he saw her.

“Um, hi,” Marinette said, suddenly breathless. Why was she nervous? It was just Luka. She just...hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, after she’d cried all over him. She felt both embarrassed and oddly shy.

“Hi.” Luka gave her a lopsided smile and offered her the flowers. “Rose made me buy them and told me not to come home until you’d forgiven me for upsetting you last night.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open as she took the flowers automatically. “But you didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested weakly, looking up at him.

Luka shrugged. “It was easier not to argue.”

Marinette giggled a little at that, and Luka’s smile widened for an instant before he looked down. “To be honest,” he began, shoulders curling inward slightly, “I wanted to see you anyway. Make sure you were okay, after all that. It got pretty intense and...I didn’t mean to put that on you.” He straightened and met her eyes again. “I am genuinely sorry about that. I wasn’t intending to upset you so badly.”

“You didn’t,” Marinette told him, laying a hand on his arm. “Really, Luka. It wasn’t you. And I appreciate that you showed me something so…” she hesitated.

“Raw?” Luka supplied, with a half smile, and Marinette hunched her shoulders a little in embarrassed acknowledgement. “Sorry if it was too much.”

Marinette shook her head, looking down to play with the stems of the bouquet. “I understand why you did it, and I feel...maybe flattered isn’t the right word, but it’s as close as I can get. I appreciate that you showed me that even though it was hard for you. I do feel like I understand you better now, and…” she shrugged. ”It was worth it.”

Luka glanced away, but he was smiling. “It wasn’t as hard as you might think. Not when it was you.”

Marinette blushed, not at all sure how to respond to that, and there was a moment of awkward silence before Luka cleared his throat.

“So, um…” he winced. “Rose kind of needs a favor, and so after I groveled at your feet,” he grinned, and Marinette huffed a quick giggle, “I was supposed to ask if you’d be willing to come over to the library and take a look at what she needs. I can take you now, or you can swing by later, whatever works for you.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked. “Uh...sure, now’s good I guess. Just—let me put these in some water and get my coffee in a travel mug?”

“Yeah, sure, no rush,” Luka said, backing up a step. “I’ll get the truck warmed up.”

He retreated with quick steps, and then climbed into his truck and started it up, holding a hand over the air vent. It had gotten most of the way warmed up on the trip over, but the air blowing from the vents was still a bit chilly.

What am I doing? he asked himself, and then sighed. He really didn’t know. He just...he felt his expression soften as he glanced up, watching Marinette come out of Gina’s door. He hopped out to open the other door for her. It was a big step up for her into the truck, and when he took her coffee and held her arm to steady her, she turned a warm smile on him that he felt all the way down to his toes.

Okay, he definitely didn’t know what he was doing, but he knew he had to do something. These feelings weren’t going anywhere, and he was starting to feel like a liar, hanging out with her as friends without telling her he was beginning to have deeper feelings for her.

Way past beginning, if he was honest.

Well, he thought as he handed back her coffee and closed her door, I was always good at winging it.

“So what is it that Rose needs?” Marinette asked, as he got up into the driver’s seat and closed the door.

“Well,” Luka said, flashing Marinette a quick grin, “it seems that there was a mishap in the storage of last year’s pageant costumes, and Rose is hoping you can bail her out.”

Mishap, he called it. Marinette stared in horror at the costumes Rose had laid out. They were moldy, and stained, and moth-eaten—no, that couldn’t have been moths, did they have rats? Ugh. Marinette’s skin crawled just looking at them.

“Do you think you can save them?” Rose asked, hands folded together in a pleading pose, huge blue eyes staring at Marinette over them.

Marinette winced. “Rose...I don’t think there’s any salvaging these. I don’t know what got to them but…” She looked back at the tattered cloth and shuddered. “I think you’d better burn them.”

Rose’s eyes widened and filled with tears. “Oh no!” she whispered, both hands covering her mouth.

“But I can try to make you some new ones,” Marinette blurted, and then winced. Oh no, why did I say that??

“Really?” Rose squealed, bouncing several feet in the air. “Oh, Marinette, you’re the best!”

“Hold on,” Marinette cautioned, even as Rose threw herself into Marinette’s arms. “Rose,” she tried again, patting Rose’s back reflexively. “I said I’d try, but…”

Rose ignored her, seizing her hand and dragging her over to a small crowd of children and teenagers sprawled in, on, and even under some of the library tables.

“This is our cast,” Rose said, throwing out her hands with a proud grin. “So you can get whatever measurements you need right now!”

“I don’t—” Marinette began, but fell silent as Rose kept talking, making one-sided introductions that Marinette was absolutely not going to remember. Still, it made her look at the children and...

Marinette had to admit, she could see both why these children had not been picked for the traditional pageant and why Rose was offended about it. The two tallest wore black and slouched their shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of long coats as they peeked at her through the hair falling in their faces. A shorter girl had pads on her knees and elbows and a sideshave with pink tips on the long side, and was listening with a slightly bored expression to a bubbly redhead who had piercings all up the shell of one ear. A boy sitting next to them, reading a book with his feet propped up on another chair, had pierced ears, killer eyeliner, and a multicolored ombre manicure that made Marinette envious.

The whole crowd was like that, and some of them looked more...mainstream, than others, but they all had something that stood out about them that didn’t exactly say ‘host of angels greeting the holy family’ in the strictly traditional sense.

“Normally nobody really cares about appearances, but they get stubborn about Christmas and the Christmas pageant,” Rose said with a shrug. “Nobody says it outright, but it’s no coincidence that the traditional kids get picked every year, you know?”

Looking at the little crowd of kids, Marinette saw a disparate set of personalities, both clinging to stereotypes in an effort to find an identity that worked for them, and breaking out of those stereotypes in new and interesting ways, and she would have loved to follow them each around for a day just for the ideas they sparked in her.

This wasn’t the time for that, though.

“I’ll need some materials,” Marinette said doubtfully. She’d already been to the only fabric store in town and it was closed, the owner having gone on vacation somewhere warm and sunny for the month.

Rose frowned as well, and opened her mouth, but was interrupted.

“I can help with that.”

Marinette jumped and turned, looking up as Luka gave her a smile. “Hi,” he said, amused, and Marinette blushed. She’d forgotten he was there.

“I have racks of clothes from my shows in the attic.” Luka shrugged, as if he didn’t notice her discomfort. “Jagged always has a clause in his contract about getting to keep his tour clothes, so it ended up in mine too. You’re welcome to scavenge it for anything you can find.”

“O-oh,” Marinette blinked. “Well...it’s a start, right? If you’re sure.” She frowned. “That’s probably some really expensive clothes though.”

Luka shrugged, indicating the hoodie and jeans he wore. “I’m not exactly using it. Might as well go to a good cause.” His gaze softened a little as he looked over her head at the kids.

Marinette smiled, and looked back as well. “Okay, Rose. Let’s go over what you need and who’s going to be using what, and I’ll get whatever measurements I need.”

“Great!” Rose chirped, bouncing as she clapped her hands.

The next little while was a bit of a blur, as Marinette tried to take notes on Rose’s chatter while meeting the kids a few at a time. They all looked a little hesitant at first, so Marinette put on her best, most reassuring smile, the one she used with inexperienced models who were nervous about their first big fashion show, and asked them cheerful questions as she took their measurements. She kept the topics light, asking them about their pins or patches or hair color, and most of them had mostly relaxed by the time she was finished. She surprised one or two with her knowledge of video games and laughed when one of them challenged her to a mech strike duel. She wrote her handle on a slip of paper and gave it to him with a wink, and managed not to laugh in the poor boy’s face when he blushed.

“I think that’s everybody,” Marinette said, waving to the last one, and turned around, blinking. “Where’d Rose go?”

“Hmm?” Luka had been sitting nearby at a table, chin in hand. He blinked like he was coming back to earth, and Marinette felt a twinge of guilt. No surprise he was zoned out, he must have been so bored just watching all of this. She should have let him know he could leave. Surely he had work to do and she could have walked back or gotten a ride with Rose.

“Oh, I bet I know where they are,” Luka said, rolling his eyes as he got up.

“They?” Marinette echoed, following him.

“Juleka showed up a little while ago,” he told her. “You were busy at the time.”

He led her around a bookshelf into a little reading alcove, and Marinette stopped dead, hands flying to suddenly red cheeks. Luka knocked on the bookshelf next to him with an amused, slightly exasperated smile. “Hand check, ladies.”

Juleka was standing there curled over Rose, her long hair partially hiding the shorter girl from view, but it was plenty clear what they were doing. The sprig of mistletoe in the middle of the decoration hanging over them removed any doubt.

“What?” Juleka said, annoyed, as she raised her head from a very kiss-bruised and blushing blonde.

“I’m, um, finished,” Marinette said, embarrassed, waving vaguely back the way they’d come. “You can get on with rehearsal now.”

“Oh, yay!” Rose perked up. “Thanks Marinette, you’re the best.”

“You have lipstick on your face,” Luka said helpfully, holding back a laugh. Juleka flipped him off, but Rose just linked her arm through Juleka’s and sniffed.

“Hmph. You’re just jealous because you wish you could kiss Marinette under the mistletoe. Come on, Juleka.” She dragged her smirking girlfriend off and around the shelves (though she did wipe most of the lavender lipstick off her mouth as she did so).

“Sisters,” Luka muttered. “Just my luck I’m gonna get stuck with another one.” He looked at Marinette’s blushing face and grinned. “You okay?”

She began to splutter, and Luka couldn’t help laughing. “I’m gonna take that as a no,” he teased.

“How can she say something like that!” Marinette groaned, ducking her head and covering her red cheeks with her hands.

“Well.” Luka licked his lips, and debated for maybe half a second before he went on. “It’s not like she’s wrong.”

Marinette’s insides froze. Her head snapped up to look at him. Luka gazed back at her, looking calm though there was a tint of pink in his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. He glanced up, and with a crooked smile, took her hands, pulling them gently from her face.

“I really would like to kiss you,” he admitted. He stepped back, tugging her lightly along with him until he paused and looked up. Still stunned, Marinette followed his gaze, up to the mistletoe decoration hanging from the ceiling. Oh.

Butterflies took sudden flight in her stomach. She dropped her wide-eyed gaze back to Luka, only to find he was watching her.

“Only if you want to kiss me, though,” he said, with a slight shrug. He threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her a little closer.

He held her gaze as he bent purposefully towards her. Luka bent until his nose was just brushing hers, head tilted just so, waiting, still watching her through half-lidded eyes. Heart hammering, senses suddenly full of him, of his rough hands in her and the evergreen scent that hung about him, his face filling her vision with those eyes so soft and yet so intense—

Impulsively Marinette raised her face just enough to let their lips brush together. He didn’t move away, and Marinette did it again, pressing in a little more this time, and then Luka leaned into her and they were really kissing...lightly, but fully.

It was...electrifying. Their hands untangled as they moved closer together, and he was so solid and strong and warm where she leaned on him. Her hands found his shoulders as his slid up her back, and it felt so good to be held, to feel wanted by anyone, let alone someone who was sweet and kind and down to earth while also being so... exceptional. But...even as his lips moved over hers she couldn’t push aside the fact that she was leaving. She had barely a week left, and then her whole family would descend on the town for Christmas dinner at Gina’s house and then...then she would be gone, and what...what would she do then? What was he expecting her to do? She had commitments and a career and he didn’t want that kind of life anymore, and—

Luka pulled back with a soft click, his eyes staying closed just a moment longer than hers, before he opened them and smiled softly at her. “You’re thinking awfully hard for someone who’s being kissed,” he murmured.

“It’s a terrible habit,” she said shakily. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Then don’t,” he said, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. His thumb caressed her gently. “It doesn’t have to be about anything but the here and now, Marinette. Just let the moment be what it is.”

“That’s all well and good,” Marinette sighed, “until the future is the now and you have to deal with the consequences. Luka, I’m leaving.” Unconsciously her fingers played nervously with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I know,” he said thickly, and cleared his throat. “Maybe I’m just not as efficient as you,” Luka grinned. “But personally, if the outcome is the same either way, I’ll take being deliriously happy for a week over moping around crying in my cheerios until you leave.”

Marinette burst out laughing at that, and Luka chuckled along. “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he told her, leaning back and lifting a hand to cradle her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I’m just saying...I’ve come to care about you a lot, Marinette. More than just friendship. I hear you. I know where you stand. I’m okay with whatever you’re willing to give me, whether that’s just this and nothing more, or a couple of dates, or...whatever. You don’t have to worry about leading me on or giving me false expectations. I just want to be with you while I can.”

Marinette sighed. “How can that be enough for you, though? If you really—I mean—”

“I do,” Luka told her softly, tilting her face up to look at him. “I really do, Marinette. Please don’t doubt that. And it’s really not enough,” he admitted, with a sigh to match hers. “If more than that were on offer, I’d gladly take it, but…” He shrugged. “What do we have to lose?”

Marinette looked at him, caught between conflicting realities. She liked him—she hadn’t even realized until now how much she liked him, but—what was he even asking her for? A week long fling? She...she didn’t do that kind of thing, she wasn’t sure she could, and...she didn’t know if she wanted to take on the pain of losing him, and wasn’t it better to just...just be friends for the time they had left? Could they even be friends after this?

Luka, watching her again, stepped back and dropped his hands back down to hers. He squeezed her hands gently, bringing her focus back to him. “Listen, we’re still friends. If you decide you’re okay with being more than that for the time you have left, you let me know.” He sighed, but cut it off and smiled. “Come on, if you’re done here, I’ll take you home.”

He dropped one hand, but kept a gentle hold on the other, squeezing it lightly before he dropped it so she could pack up her things. Marinette packed her kit mechanically, glancing at him. Luka appeared perfectly at ease, chatting with one of the kids, and he didn’t so much as look at her. Trying to make things easy, she supposed, as he always did. Giving her some space, maybe, to absorb the sudden shift in her reality.

The reality where Luka—who was also Luke Stone the rock star and that was definitely too much for her to think about right now—liked her, as more than a friend, and told her so, and kissed her, and oh my I kissed Luke Stone, Alya would freak —

She knocked a coiled up tape measure off the table and it bounced and exploded into a tangle on the floor. One of the kids scrambled over to pick it up for her, and she managed to thank her with a smile, and just stuffed the whole jumbled thing into her usually-immaculate kit.

Her hands were shaking as she snapped it closed and looked for Luka. He smiled at her, and made his farewells to the boy he’d been talking to. He walked beside Marinette to the door with his hands in his pockets, and opened it for her. It was a stupid thing to blush about but Marinette did anyway.

She still accepted his steadying hand to get up into the truck, and the smile he sent her was reassuring. She relaxed a little. He didn’t seem angry or hurt, and her nerves eased a little bit as he climbed up in his seat and started up the truck.

Neither of them said much on the way home, and Marinette was grateful, because she was sure she would start to babble if she opened her mouth at all. Luka turned on some music, and Marinette smiled slightly as she realized it was Jagged’s latest album. She ventured to ask a question about one song in particular that she had always wondered about, and Luka answered her easily with a tale about the night on tour when Jagged had been inspired to write the thing. Marinette felt a little better by the time Luka dropped her off at home. Maybe this was okay after all. Maybe he was right and they could still be friends from here.

“You can come look at the clothes whenever you’re ready,” Luka told her as he held her kit while she jumped down from the seat. “The farm’s effectively closed for the season since pretty much everybody has their tree now. Just come on over once you’ve got an idea what you need.”

“Okay,” Marinette tried to smile. “Thank you, Luka.”

Luka chucked her gently under the chin. “Don’t make me something else you’re worrying about, okay? You don’t have to tell me what’s going on but I can see you’ve got some things weighing you down, and I don’t want to be one of them. I’m just...I’m here for you. However you want me to be.”

Marinette’s smile was maybe still a little wobbly, but much more sincere. “Thanks, Luka.”

“Sure.” He let her take her kit back, and watched her until she was inside. Then he turned and climbed back up in the truck.

Luka was very, very good at keeping it all together. He didn’t freak out, he didn’t panic, and he didn’t get upset—on the outside. His hands shook a little bit right before he gripped the steering wheel, but otherwise he was completely normal, right up until he shut the door in his own room at home.

Even then, all he did was bury his hands in his hair, slide down the door to sit on the floor, and sigh heavily. It was done, after all. He’d made his move and now he had to live with it. Luka didn’t regret it, exactly, but...he wished things were different. He really did. Maybe he should have talked to her instead of going straight to kissing, but...

He let go of his hair and thumped his head back against the door. He needed something to do.

Well, the attic was probably a disaster. Might as well go up there and see if he couldn’t make it less of one before Marinette came over.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

58 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles Day 8 - Uncertainty

Find the prompt list here!

Marinette had a lot of experience with embarrassment, and she was well aware that no matter how much she wished it, the odds of the earth opening beneath her and swallowing her up were pretty slim. In fact, at this point in her life she was pretty sure that if it ever did happen, it would be while things were going perfectly fine, just to spite her.

So as she stood on the sidewalk outside of the library, peeling a sticky bow off her forehead (and probably a perfectly square section of her foundation with it, which she was sure would look just great), trying not to look at the very attractive rock star (former rock star?) beside her, she was annoyed but not surprised that the ground remained solid under her feet.

“Well,” Luka sighed, “I guess since Rose is paying...can I take you to lunch?”

“I, um—” Marinette began, and then shivered, grabbing her arms as the wind suddenly cut through her.

“Here,” Luka said, and Marinette finally looked at him. He was holding her coat open for her, waiting. He was already wearing his. “Marinette?” he asked when she didn’t move immediately, and Marinette jumped.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, hastily jamming her arms into the coat. It was harder than it should have been, since she still had the big stick-on bow in her hand, and her internal screaming grew louder as Luka continued to hold the coat patiently until she finally got her hand through the cuff. She jammed the bow in her pocket as she turned towards him with a grateful, if embarrassed, smile as she began buttoning the coat. “Um, thank you, but I’m sure you have things to do, and, well Rose didn’t exactly give you notice there, so if you need to, um, go, I understand.”

Luka gave her a slow smile. “Well, since one of the things I have to do is eat lunch, I’m not going to turn down a slice of Sally’s pie on Rose’s dime. And since she kind of played us both here, I think she owes you one too. Unless you don’t like pie?”

“I love pie,” Marinette blurted, and had to stop her hand from flying to cover her mouth.

“Well, okay then. Let’s get some pie.” Luka gestured, and Marinette found herself walking alongside him. “Maybe some soup, too. Sally’s tomato bisque is amazing when it’s cold outside.”

Marinette made a noise that she hoped sounded like agreement. What on earth was she doing? Didn’t this make it look like she wanted to go on a date with him? What if he thought Rose was acting on Marinette’s behalf?

A touch on her arm jolted her out of her spiral. “Are you all right?” Luka asked gently, slowing down his walk. “Look, I know Rose is...a lot. I didn’t mean to enable her pushiness, so if you’re not comfortable—”

“No!” Marinette exclaimed quickly, and then sighed. “Well...yes, a little. Not she’s a lot a little, but I’m a little. Uncomfortable, I mean. N-not that you did anything, or...um…” She clamped her teeth together and fought the urge to scream.

“It’s just that this is a little awkward, because Rose has all the subtlety of a brick to the head and now we’re both trying to pretend that we don’t know we were set up?” Luka smiled, and Marinette actually laughed a little bit despite the vivid blush she was sure was spreading over her face.

“Yeah, kinda,” she admitted, hunching her shoulders.

Luka shrugged. “Well, we could bail on lunch, walk away and pretend none of this ever happened, and hope that we never see each other again. Buuuuut this is a pretty small town, and avoiding people here is hard, so the chances of recurring awkward are high.”

“Good point.” Marinette winced. “Um...what are our other options?”

“Well, I’m personally a big fan of just embracing the awkward.” Luka gave her a lopsided smile that looked nothing like his posters. “So I propose that we go have lunch, no pressure and no expectations, ask all the questions we’ve been dancing around until now, and see if we can’t just power through the awkward and come out friends—or at least acquaintances that can greet each other on the street without combusting from embarrassment.”

Marinette laughed. “That...that actually sounds like a plan.”

Luka’s lopsided smile turned into a grin, and in that moment she could see a flash of the rock star she remembered.

It was a short walk to the café (it was a short walk just about anywhere on Main Street, really), and before she had quite recovered from that grin, Luka was holding the door open for her and waving her through.

“Hi, Sally,” he said as he followed her into the café. “Where should we sit?”

“Anywhere you like, hon, just don’t take up the big tables,” Sally replied absently, preoccupied with something behind the counter. “Your usual?”

“Am I so predictable?” he sighed, leading Marinette to a small booth near the windows.

“You are when it’s this cold out,” Sally laughed, looking up, and noticed his companion for the first time. “Nice to see you again Marinette! Do you need the menu?”

“I’ll have what Luka’s having, actually,” Marinette said, blushing a little as she slid into the seat across from Luka. “Now that he’s talked it up I have to try it.”

“Sure thing, hon. Tea instead of coffee for you though?”

“Yes please,” Marinette replied quickly, shrugging out of her coat. She raised a self-conscious hand and touched the spot on her forehead where the bow had been, glancing at her reflection in the window.

“Rose’s treating today, so make it the big bowl please,” Luka called, and got a good natured wave from Sally to indicate she’d heard him. He turned his attention back to Marinette, and she tried not to squirm.

“So,” Luka said, slipping out of his coat and stuffing it into the corner beside him. “Do you want to start?”

“Why did you retire?” Marinette blurted, and covered her mouth.

Luka winced. “Wow, right out of the gate.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette backpedaled frantically. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it was a fair question,” Luka sighed, sitting back and tapping his fingers lightly on the table as he thought. Marinette bit her lip, feeling terrible for asking, but also really wanting to know.

“Sometimes you take a chance, and things don’t work out,” he said finally. “But...sometimes they do work out, and then you find out it wasn’t actually what you wanted in the first place. I love the music, I thought I loved performing, but that whole lifestyle just...didn’t work for me.”

Marinette wasn’t sure what to say to that, and was grateful that Sally arrived just at that moment with her tea and Luka’s coffee.

“Okay, my turn,” Luka said, leaning his elbows on the table. “Why are you here? In this town, I mean. No offense, but you kind of stick out.”

Marinette made a face. “The real reason? My mother thought I was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, so she conspired with my grandmother to guilt me into taking a vacation. As if all my problems aren’t still going to be there when I go home.” She glanced up at him, gathered her courage, and said, “Why are you here?”

“My family is here,” he said, pushing the salt shaker around on the table absently. He leaned back as Sally came to slide two bowls of soup on the table. Luka thanked her, and then looked back at Marinette. He gave that lopsided grin again at the slight pout she was aiming at him, and gave in. “So it was the logical place to come when I decided I needed to figure out what I really wanted out of life.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “And did you?”

Luka shrugged. “It’s a process, but...yeah, I think I’m on the right track.” He raised his eyebrows back at her. “What was stressing you out so bad at home?”

“My boss,” Marinette groaned, as they both picked up their spoons. “There’s so much she can do for me in the industry but she’s so rude and mean. The words constructive criticism seem to have no meaning for her. It’s like she expects me to read her mind and fix things without any guidance. Why did she hire me, if she hates everything I do so much?” Marinette stirred her soup listlessly, and then finally tried some. She smiled at Luka. “This is good.” His mouth was full but he aimed a wink at her in lieu of an I told you so. “So why a Christmas tree farm?” she asked.

Luka shrugged. “I don’t even really know myself. When my mom bought it I thought it was just another one of her crazy whims, and that she’d sell it again before the next season even came around. But, turns out she likes the farm, and she likes the town, and she runs a kayak rental during the summer that keeps her adventuring spirit satisfied. I still expect her to up and leave with practically no notice someday, but for now she seems happy. Make sure you try the toast on the side, by the way, it’s amazing.” He tilted his head slightly. “Why does Christmas hate you?”

Marinette had to take a moment for that one, taking her time with her next spoonful of soup. Luka didn’t press her, just went on eating his own. “I’ve never had much luck with Christmas,” she muttered, and then felt like he deserved more of an answer than that. “Not every Christmas, some were fine, but some were...just times when I found out that people weren’t the friends I thought they were. Then last Christmas...” She hesitated, feeling foolish. “My boyfriend dumped me,” she said finally, and then blushed. “It sounds really stupid and pathetic when I say it out loud, and it’s not like he did it on Christmas or anything like that, but...” She shook her head.

“But now it’s Christmas again and you’re having a hard time separating the season from the memories?” Luka suggested. Marinette nodded.

“My ex, he’s...kind of famous,” she admitted, “And now he’s back in the news because he’s got a new girlfriend, and there’s rumors there’s going to be an engagement announcement soon, and we work in the same industry so we’re still part of some of the same circles, and...yeah.” She shrugged and looked down, eyes suddenly stinging. “It just kind of feels like Christmas isn’t on my side this year either.”

“Hey,” Luka said, reaching across the table to catch her hand. Marinette looked up at him, startled, and he smiled. “What kind of pie do you want?”

His hand was rough, but warm from where it had been wrapped around his coffee, and for a moment she could only stare at him. He has kind eyes, she thought.

She hadn’t seen that on his posters, either.

“Blueberry,” she managed to say, and it wasn’t as hard to smile back at him as she thought it would be.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug

66 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 3 years

Text

Month of Miracles Day 13 - Smells of the season

Speaking of smells, I would just like to say I do appreciate the irony of this after I wrote Marinette getting so upset about Luka smelling like evergreen. Just to reiterate I have no problem with anyone deciding that Luka smells like evergreen, it was just narratively convenient (I do always write him with the sunscreen smell, but begrudge no one else their own hc).

Find the prompt list here!

Marinette set a box of carefully decorated (with the icing completely set this time) cookies in the passenger seat, and then got in her grandmother’s classic car and started it up with a slight sigh of trepidation. Gina wasn’t really the type to get attached to things, so she wasn’t precisely worried about hurting the car, but it still made her nervous. She didn’t own a car herself and she didn’t drive often, but the Couffaine’s tree farm was far enough away that she needed the car.

She’d been driving it the first time she went, too, when she’d met Luka.

Maybe the car wasn’t the only reason she was nervous, she admitted to herself as she pulled out of the drive. She didn’t want him to think she was pursuing him, not like Rose clearly wanted, but Marinette felt bad about all the uncharitable thoughts she’d had about him when they first met. Sure, he’d been short with her, but...now that she knew him a little better, he was sweet and funny and kind, and no matter how weird things got he always seemed willing to laugh it off and make her feel comfortable again.

So maybe this was a little bit peace offering, and a little bit of an excuse to see him again, and a little bit craving for more of that comfortable feeling.

Or maybe it was just that she didn’t have that many people to give cookies to. It didn’t have to be that deep, did it? Luka was a friend. Right? They were friends after they had lunch together, weren’t they? So it wasn’t weird to bring him cookies and she didn’t have to think so hard about it. It seemed like a small town thing to do anyway, people probably did it all the time. Besides, he was probably busy. She could just leave the cookies and maybe say hi and then leave.

The trees were planted in staggered rows on a hill that sloped up to the farmhouse at the top, with a small parking area at the bottom of the hill. Marinette had expected to go up the hill to the house, but as she approached she saw Luka in the parking lot, helping a customer heave a tree on top of their van, so she pulled in there instead. Marinette grabbed her box of cookies and got out of the car, but Luka was still getting the tree tied down. She decided to wait until he was finished before trying to get his attention, and leaned against the car, inhaling the scents of evergreen and fresh snow. Way better than a candle, she thought. Colder though.

Luka was smiling and joking with the thin man he was helping, who held the hand of a little girl with pigtails. His hands were bare again, she noted with a frown. Wasn’t he cold? Even so, he looked relaxed and content, and Marinette felt a stab of both envy and confusion. She was glad he was happy, of course, but she didn’t understand how he could give up his dream and still look so satisfied with life all the time. The only times she’d seen him tense or unhappy was when she brought up his old life.

She watched him shake hands with the man and then he turned towards her with a grin. Stupidly, Marinette felt a flush climbing her cheeks. Ugh, her stupid face was so embarrassing. It was just a smile, for pity’s sake.

Still, she felt antsy as she gave him a little wave.

“Nice to see you,” Luka chuckled. “Don’t tell me you need another tree.”

Marinette laughed. “No, I just came to see you.” She barely kept herself from clapping a hand over her mouth as Luka’s eyes widened slightly and a faint color touched his cheeks. “I mean, I wanted to bring you these,” Marinette said quickly, handing him the box of cookies. “I didn’t think it was really fair that you had to smell them the whole time you were there and yet you only got the one, especially after, you know, you came all the way out there and did all that work and—” Stop babbling! she mentally shrieked. “Here you go.”

Luka grinned, accepting the box. “You didn’t need to, but I haven’t stopped thinking about the one you gave me since I ate it, so I’ll take them.” He popped the box open and grabbed one, taking a bite. “So good,” he mumbled as Marinette giggled. “Best ever.” He stuck the cookie between his teeth to close the box and then took another bite. “Don’t tell Sally though. She still has the best coffee in town and I don’t want her mad at me.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Marinette replied, trying to contain her grin. It felt good to do something right. “Well, you’re working, so I don’t want to keep you.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves? Isn’t it hard on your hands without them?”

Luka shrugged. “I have trouble finding gloves that fit. Big hands.” He held one up and wiggled his long fingers, “And I’m picky about the way they feel. Drives me crazy to have gloves that don’t fit exactly right.”

“But your music,” Marinette protested, and then felt that familiar but unwelcome rush of awkward embarrassment. “I mean. I know you stopped with the music, so maybe it doesn’t matter that much, but I just...wish you’d take better care of yourself,” she finished lamely, once again wishing to sink into the ground.

Luka regarded her for a moment. “I never said I stopped,” he said at last.

Marinette blinked. “S-sorry?”

“I didn’t stop making music,” Luka clarified. “I can’t. It’s just...part of me I guess. I don’t think I could quit if I wanted to. I never did want to quit, though, just do it differently.” He seemed to hesitate, looking for words. “There’s a difference between sharing and selling,” Luka said finally. “And at some point it became all about the selling and...I just can’t live like that. I want people to hear my music; I want to get paid for it. But...not like that. Not like I’m part of some manufacturing machine, where they take what I make and turn it into something marketable. Am I making sense?”

“Not really,” Marinette admitted. That was what she wanted, after all. To get her clothes out there and on people. As far as she was concerned, Luka had given up the dream she was working for, and try as she might...she couldn’t understand how he could give all that up.

Luka sighed, clearly disappointed, and looked away. Marinette fidgeted, feeling like she had failed some kind of test.

“Tell you what,” Luka said, after staring up the hill towards the house for a long moment, “Why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow night? Mom’s going out for the night, and Rose is coming over, so she and Juleka will go off and do their own thing after dinner. I’d like to show you something that might help you understand.”

“Oh,” Marinette’s face heated. “It’s not really necessary...I wouldn’t want to impose for such a silly reason…”

Luka shrugged. “I’m cooking so the only person you’d be imposing on is me, and obviously I think your company’s worth it or I wouldn’t be asking. No pressure, though, if you’d rather not. It’s just...if you really want to know why I quit, I think it would help if you came.”

Did she want to know? Why did she care so much? She should say no. It was really none of her business. Marinette opened her mouth, but paused. For a moment she wavered, and then gave him a slightly forced smile. “Well…sure. That’s kind of you. Thank you.” She hesitated again, already half regretting it. “You don’t...you don’t have to explain it to me, though. It doesn’t matter if I understand, as long as you do.”

“I know,” Luka said, and his warm smile was unexpectedly soft. “I’d like for you to understand, though. So...I’ll see you tomorrow? Around seven?” He popped the last bit of cookie in his mouth and then reached down to open the car door for her.

“Okay, sure,” Marinette said, and her smile was a little less forced. “I’ll see you then.”

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #promptfic #quickfic #hallmark au

61 notes · View notes