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kennahjune · 9 months

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Fuck the Trauma Bond

A Lucas and the Party version of this

…

Lucas was bouncing the ball on the pavement of the basketball court at the playground. It was surrounded by high chain-link fences and the hoops on either end were worn and rusted and the pavement itself was cracked worse than the Upside Down ground.

He had never looked happier.

Dustin and Will looked on from where they sat at the top of the slide on the playground. Lucas was tossing the ball around with a couple of other kids from school that neither of them knew.

But Lucas knew them, and that was all that mattered, apparently.

Max, El and Mike were a little farther back from Lucas, past the lame excuse of a basketball court and in the street, where Max was showing Mike how to skateboard while El loitered and watched.

It was absolutely sweltering. Ranging from 92 degrees to the Devils fucking asscrack, in Dustin totally correct opinion.

He was bored out of his mind but didn’t mind watching Lucas bounce the ball. He looked happier bouncing an orange sphere than he did playing DnD, which unsettled Dustin in a way that made him lightheaded.

“Hey, Will.”

Will hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his sketchpad.

“Does Lucas look happier?”

Will looked at Dustin with a raised eyebrow before focusing in on Lucas.

“Huh. I mean sure.” He shrugged. “But it’s cause it’s basketball. Lucas really likes basketball. And if he really likes it then why not be happy while doing it?”

Dustin flipped the thought a few times in his head.

It wasn’t that he was mad about Lucas playing basketball. He got over that a while ago after Lucas and Mike had a full-blown argument/mental breakdown that included Mike’s abandonment issues and Lucas’ FOMO (fear of missing out).

But Dustin also wasn’t outright vocally supportive. He didn’t go to the games, he didn’t hang around for Lucas’ practices. He would (probably), but even after Eddie’s name was cleared and he was painted a hero but the government goons, Mike and himself were still targeted heavily in school alongside the rest of Hellfire.

“I don’t really see the appeal, I guess.” He told Will, instead of voicing his inner thoughts.

Will shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s Lucas’ interest. But simply showing you’re willing to listen to him about said interest can go a lot farther than you’d think.”

“Are you saying I don’t listen to him?”

“I’m saying you guys dismiss him.”

“Dismiss him?” Dustin watched Lucas more intently.

Will hummed. “Literally yesterday. He was talking about his encounter with Steve and how they’d made a really cool new play and you guys all so obviously tuned him out that when he stopped you guys just kept nodding because you hadn’t noticed.”

Huh.

That was really shitty.

“Did we really?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Damn indeed, Dusty-buns.”

Mike, Max and El joined them a couple minutes later.

“What’re you nerds talking about?” Max asked, sitting at the bottom of the slide with El while Mike climbed up to sit behind the boys and lean on Will’s back.

“How we’re apparently really shitty friends,” answered Dustin with his chin in his hand. He was still watching Lucas. One of the guys playing— a curly blond kid a head shorter than Lucas— pulled him into a weird hug thing where they slapped each other’s backs and immediately went back to playing.

“What?” asked Mike, muffled from where his head was shoved into Will’s shoulder.

“Lucas likes basketball.” Dustin confirmed.

Mike and Max looked at him.

“Yeah? We know that, Henderson.” Max snarked.

“And we know nothing about anything including him and basketball.”

They both seemed to pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Will says we’ve been dismissing him every time he brings it up.”

They both looked at Will, Mike peeling himself off of his back to do so.

Will shrugged and harshly erased something on his paper. “You do.”

“Which is why it’s stopping now.” Declared Dustin.

Mike blinked at him owlishly. “Um, dude? We can’t really go to him games or practices. You know we’ll both get mauled,” he muttered quietly.

The other three looked between Mike and Dustin.

“You’re both having problems still?” Will asked, looking stricken.

“I thought Jason dying would mean they’d fuck off.” Muttered Max.

Mike scoffed. “Just cause Carver’s dead doesn’t mean shit. They still think Eddie’s the Devil and that we’re his fucking worshipers or whatever. They chased me all the way to the back of the school on Wednesday.”

Will winced and Max glowered. Dustin felt the slide shake a little.

“El, relax. It’s not that bad.” Dustin watched El’s gaze soften slightly and the slide stopped rumbling. She looked at him sadly. They’d all heard about the bullying in Cali at some point. Dustin smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He turned back to address the whole group.

“Sure we can’t go to every game, but maybe we can get Steve to go with us to some. You guys know he wouldn’t let anything happen. And besides— Steve likes sports to.”

That struck a thought in his mind: how many times had he dismissed Steve?

He pushed it back for now.

“And even without going to games—“ he pressed on, “—we can still try and listen to him more.”

Mike and Max nodded slowly. Dustin takes it they hadn’t realized they hadn’t been listening before.

“And speaking of,” Will said, placing his sketch pad and pencils into his bag. “Here comes the man of the hour.”

Sure enough, Lucas was walking backward to them while waving to the guys who were leaving the park altogether. They were all waving back and laughing.

“Hey, guys!” Lucas jogged up to the slide.

“Hey, stalker,” Max greeted cheekily when Lucas bent to give her a kiss.

“Hi, Lucas!” El cheerily added. “Did you have fun?”

Lucas smiled. “Yeah! Daniel— the dude who was wearing the red hoodie like a damn maniac— was stupid fast and really cool! He showed me how he pushes off his feet for speed and when I—… never mind.” He tried for a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Dustin frowned.

“Why’d you stop? Keep going, dimwit. When you what?” Mike prompted.

Dustin snickered when Will slapped his arm lightly.

Lucas looked stricken for a split second before his face broke out in a grin.

“Well—“

And the rest is history.

Bonus:

When the first game came up, only 3 months later, Steve took the whole Party— older teens included.

They took Eddie’s van, the kids piled in the back while the teens took the actual seats.

When they got to school it was hectic chaos of Steve taking a headcount and leading everyone in. They struggled to find seats where their whole group would fit and in the end they sat on the bottom line of the bleachers with half of the them on the floor.

It was actually fun, much to Dustin’s and Mike’s surprise. Even if the looks shot at them and Eddie from some of the players were downright hostile.

Steve went with them every time they got up to do anything. No one left without someone else there— so Mike wasn’t alone when Adrian Gonzales tried to corner him by the concessions. And Dustin wasn’t in as much trouble when Treyton Klink pulled him by the shirt into the bathrooms.

So yeah— it wasn’t the best. But that was ok, because the hug Lucas gave them afterwards was worth it. Dustin would go through hell (again) to get another hug like that.

Mike looked about ready to agree with the flush that now littered his face and shoulders.

Will laughed at him and poked fun at him about the blush the entire ride home. Max and Lucas himself eventually played in with it as well, only worsening the blush and making the teasing better.

Lucas was over the moon for the rest of the night.

They slept over at Casa Harrington (as the Party so lovingly called it), piling blankets and pillows and dragged mattresses and discarded cushions on the living room floor while Lucas went on and on and on with Steve for what felt like forever.

Dustin wouldn’t have it any other way.

Especially with the matching smiles on their faces.

Dustin’s never seen them so happy, and he caught Eddie staring at Steve the same way Max was staring at Lucas, so Dustin figured he agreed.

He’d endured literal hell for his friends; what’s so wrong about one interest?

Dustin’s dreams were filled with buzzers and cheering and scoreboards. But that was a problem to complain about tomorrow.

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mintaka14 · 1 year

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Here's a bit of Lukanette fun. This is a Dammit!Ver fic and I blame her for throwing the prompt at me. I also blame the LBSC crowd for their enabling and support, and for the icecream flavour suggestions, and for playing along with suggestions of which fabrics Luka should never wear. Enjoy!

Dating Sucks

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

“Dating sucks, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and curled up around one of his pillows. The moment she’d said it, she could have bitten out her tongue.

Up on deck, Rose and Ivan were still bickering about a drum solo (“You’re going to have to face the spotlight sometime, Ivan, you’re too awesome to keep hiding at the back, and Biker Unicorns from Mars needs a drum solo going into the bridge!”) while Juleka interjected her laconic opinions from time to time. About the point when Luka bowed out of the argument, though, Marinette had followed him down into his cabin, and dropped into her usual place on his bed.

More often than not, when she turned up at the Liberty, she ended up on Luka’s bed, sketching, or talking with Luka, or just listening to him playing something on his guitar that sounded like all the complicated thoughts in her head.

Luka was the one she could talk to about anything and everything. Except her love life.

There was too much history between them to make her feel anything but awkward telling him about the guys she dated, no matter how close she and Luka had become since their one attempt to be something more had crashed and burned.

And she was pretty sure that telling a guy she used to date that dating sucked was bad.

He didn’t seem upset by it, though. He was sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent to support his guitar as he idly tinkered with a tune he’d been working on, but at her words, he glanced up.

“I take it the last one didn’t go well,” he said mildly, and she buried her face in his pillow to muffle her groan.

“Or the one before that,” she muttered, “or before that, or… dating sucks. I never know what to say, and you know how stressed out I get when I start overthinking stuff.”

“It wasn’t that bad when we were dating, was it?” Luka asked, and Marinette pulled the pillow down to look at him.

“Don’t you remember all the times I flaked out on you, or disappeared, or… did we ever get to even finish a date together? I’m amazed you even still talk to me.”

“Yeah, but that was because…” Luka trailed off and didn’t finish the sentence, but his hands had stilled on the guitar strings, and he was frowning a little with his eyes still on her. “At least you don’t have akumas breaking things up now.”

“I almost wish I did,” Marinette muttered. “Dating sucks.”

“It doesn’t have to.” There was a long silence, and Luka looked as if he was trying to make up his mind about something, then he lifted the guitar from his lap and put it aside. He got to his feet and held out his hand to Marinette. “Come on, Melody. You can tell me all about it while we go get icecream.”

The argument about the drum solo seemed to have been resolved in their absence. Ivan was idly twirling his drumsticks, and Rose was slumped against Juleka on one of the deck chairs, but they all looked up as Luka and Marinette emerged onto the deck.

“Where are you going?” Juleka asked when they headed for the gangplank. “We were going to start rehearsing again in a minute.”

“You’ll have to cope without me. We’re going to go get icecream,” Luka told her, and Rose sat up abruptly. Her wide blue eyes flickered between Luka and Marinette, and she gave an excited little squeak.

“Ooh! Are you – ow! What was that for?” She turned to pout at Juleka, whose foot retreated under her skirts again.

“Like we actually need you,” Juleka muttered in her brother’s direction. “Have fun, loser.”

“I always do, monster child,” Luka shot back amiably, and tugged Marinette down the gangplank before anyone could say anything else.

As they walked slowly along the banks of the Seine, he coaxed the latest disaster out of her, and the history of her failed dates before that. When she’d spilled out all the inner workings of her terrible love life, Marinette let out a faint sigh, and Luka glanced down at her.

There were times when she wished that she hadn’t met him until after that final battle, when she had the chance of a life back and they might have had a chance to make it work between them, instead of blowing her chances with him when Ladybug had to come first. Except she wasn’t sure she would have made it through those years without Luka’s friendship. She was even less sure that Ladybug would have survived to defeat Monarch, and the villains that followed him, without Viperion’s steady presence and Luka’s silent support.

“That’s a lot of bad dates,” he said.

“I’m giving up on the whole concept. It just never works.” Marinette sighed again. “Half of them, I didn’t even want to go on in the first place.”

“Then why do you say yes?” Luka asked, but he didn’t sound judgemental, just curious, and when Marinette glanced up at him he was watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. “Have you met Alya? I have a best friend who’s decided it’s her mission in life to set me up with a boyfriend so I can live happily ever after and go on double dates with her and Nino, and it’s easier to just go along with it. And who know? Maybe she’s right, and I’m just not trying hard enough.”

“Or maybe she should be letting you find your own dates,” he said, his tone unreadable. It looked like he was going to say something else, but then his gaze shifted past her, his mouth quirking up, and she realised they’d reached the Sweetheart Icecream Cart.

“Want to risk Andre’s choice?” he asked her in an undervoice, and grinned at her as she gave the cart a dubious glance.

“Is that wise? The last few times he’s chosen for me, it… hasn’t gone well.”

“I’m curious to see just how bad it can be now.”

Marinette laughed at that. “When we get a scoop of sardines and pizza, it’s on your head, remember that,” she warned him, still giggling, as he took her hand and drew her forward into the crowd around the cart.

Marinette was more focused on the feel of her hand in Luka’s when he didn’t let her go. She was almost disappointed when they reached the front, and Luka released her hand to dig through his pockets for some cash. Andre gave them a big, beaming smile.

She tried not to react to Andre’s flowery predictions of true love and a sweet heart, but the tiny, sidelong grin Luka shot her as Andre scooped out the blueberry and violet icecream suggested that he’d heard her soft snort.

“So, is dating something you’re actually opposed to,” Luka said curiously, as he took the Sweetheart Sundae that Andre handed him and led Marinette back to the low stone wall alongside the path.

“Not in theory,” she admitted. She scooped out a mouthful of icecream, and waited until she’d swallowed it before she added, “It just never seems to go well for me. Like, the whole sweetheart icecream thing? I remember when I used to think that was the most romantic thing you could do on a date.”

“What happened to change your mind?”

“I ended up with a few too many weird flavour choices,” Marinette told him. “The last time I came here on a date, I was here with a boy from Alya’s journalism class that she tried to set me up with, and Andre gave me tangerine for his hair, and peanut butter icecream for his nutty sense of humour.” Marinette rolled her eyes, and Luka smothered a snort of laughter.

“And was he funny?”

“He didn’t crack a smile the whole time, although that may have had more to do with being compared to a tangerine, or maybe because tangerine and peanut butter just tastes weird together. But even that was better than the time Andre gave me two scoops of coffee icecream, to go with my dark and mysterious soul.”

Luka nearly choked on the spoonful he’d just put in his mouth.

“My date that time kept giving me weird looks, until I panicked and told him I had to go home because I’d left the iron on. I’m pretty sure at this point that the whole sweetheart combination thing is more about whatever flavour Andre’s trying to shift that day,” Marinette said, and waited until Luka had recovered himself before she offered him the sundae again. “Don’t tell me you buy into the whole Sweetheart Icecream thing.”

Luka gave a wry smile. “I don’t really think anyone should be taking relationship advice from frozen milk.”

“And yet, you brought me to Andre’s cart,” Marinette pointed out. Although this wasn’t a date, so it probably wasn’t going to draw down the bad luck her love life seemed to attract.

“Well, it is delicious frozen milk,” he said with a grin. He dug out a piece of candied violet and licked it off his spoon. “And he was onto something with the whole blueberry for your bright blue eyes, and violet for the sweetness in your heart line.”

“Luka!” Marinette could feel herself blushing as she giggled at the compliment. She focused on the icecream as her cheeks flamed hotter under his gaze, and then flicked a glance up at him through her lashes.

“He could have been talking about you, you know,” she suggested, and felt a little thrill as Luka ducked his head, his face hidden by the blue fall of his hair, but not before she caught a hint of colour creeping up his neck too. She buried her mischievous little smile in another spoonful of icecream, stealing glances at him as she ate.

She had to admit that her experiences with Andre’s Sweetheart Icecream weren’t all bad, although come to think of it, that first icecream she’d shared with Luka hadn’t really been a date either. It had been just before they’d gone on an official date, and it had been with all their friends. But it had been nice, she thought wistfully.

It was getting dark by the time they finished the icecream and started to slowly wander in the direction of home. The route that they took was not the most direct one back to Marinette’s place, but neither of them suggested a shorter path when they ended up taking the long way alongside the river, and circling the park instead of cutting through it. When they finally reached her door, she hesitated on the doorstep.

The light from the bakery window cast a glow over the dark street, turning Luka’s blue hair a deeper colour, and catching in the dark depths of his eyes as he watched her. She put her hand on the door, but didn’t open it.

“Thank you for the icecream, Luka” she said, feeling oddly reluctant for the night to end, “and for letting me vent about my dating disasters.”

Luka ducked his head, an odd little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He glanced up at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to say something, but then he simply said, “Sleep well, Melody.”

He turned to go, and Marinette’s hand stayed on the door handle as she watched him walk away. Before he reached the corner, he pivoted.

“Marinette,” he called back to her. “Want to come shopping for new guitar strings tomorrow? That fabric shop next door has a sale on, and maybe we could go there afterwards.”

Marinette found herself beaming at him.

“You had me at fabric shop,” she called back, and he lit up with a grin, his eyes still on her as he started walking backwards. “What time?”

“Call me when you’re awake,” he suggested, and when she nodded, he spun around and kept walking. Marinette watched until he’d disappeared around the corner, and then she went upstairs to bed, feeling inexplicably lighter in spite of her disastrous love life.

She was up earlier than usual the next morning, and her mother’s startled expression when Marinette whirled into the shop changed to a knowing smile when she caught a glimpse through the window of Luka waiting outside. He had his head down, listening to his earbuds, but he looked up hopefully every time the shop door opened and the bell chimed.

“Enjoy your date,” Sabine said fondly, as Marinette dropped a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek. Marinette didn’t bother to correct her. Instead, she snatched up a couple of croissants as a substitute for breakfast, and hurried out the door before her mother could misinterpret the way her cheeks glowed pink.

Luka looked up again as the bell jangled, and smiled when he saw her. She handed one of the croissants to Luka.

“You’re going to need fortification if you’re coming to Marché St Pierre with me,” she warned a little anxiously, but Luka laughed.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“And you have to tell me if I’m taking too long,” she persisted. “Alya hates it when I sort of tend to lose track of time in there…”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted gently, “it’s okay. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to go.”

Finding the new strings that Luka needed didn’t take long at all, even when Marinette tried to prod Luka into trying out the beautiful guitar that he was eyeing off. At her coaxing, he played a few bars of something that drew the rapt attention of everyone in the shop, but then he set the guitar aside and drew her towards the fabric shop next door, and Marinette was distracted from all thoughts of guitars and music.

She drifted between the aisles, running her fingertips over the rolls of satin and lace, and it was easy to lose track of the time without Alya’s impatient huffs behind her, or pointed comments about how much more fabric do you actually need, Marinette?

If Luka was bored, there wasn’t any hint of it in the questions he asked from time to time, or the way he tilted his head to listen as she wandered off into impassioned and rambling lectures about the history of style and the fashion industry. He did eventually suggest that maybe it might be time to get some lunch, and Marinette looked up from the two shades of blue linen she was agonising over, startled to realise that it was well into the afternoon and she was starving.

“I’m so sorry I lost track of the time,” she said guiltily when they found a café. A waitress slid burgers and fried potato in front of them, and Marinette glanced down at the huge bag of fabric beside her chair. “We’ve spent this whole time just looking at stuff for me.”

“Hey, I got stuff too.” Luka reached into his pocket and held up the packet of strings as evidence. “I just like spending time with you, Melody. Is that so hard to believe?”

There was a long silence, and Marinette focused on the food in front of her rather than responding. When she glanced up, Luka was still watching her, a faint frown between his eyes.

“What on earth is wrong with all these guys Alya’s been setting you up with?” he said absently, almost as if he didn’t realise he was speaking out loud. Marinette gave an awkward shrug.

“There’s nothing wrong with them. It’s me. I suck at dating, and it’s never any fun for anyone involved.”

“Hey, I’m having fun,” Luka protested, his frown lightening as his lips quirked up in a smile. “And going to Marché St Pierre with you was educational. I know all about why I shouldn’t ever wear lamé. I know what lamé is now,” he grinned.

He’d held up the slippery, yellow-green fabric and asked if it would suit him, just to see her react, and by the time she’d finished the scathing lecture about the fabric composition, lack of breathability, the colour, and how awful lamé was to work with, he’d been trying so hard not to laugh, and she couldn’t help giggling at him in response.

“That was not quality lamé,” she sniffed. “And I’m not going to start another rant about that again. I’ve already bored you enough for one day.”

His grin grew wider. “I like watching you getting excited about things.”

“You can’t seriously tell me you wanted to spend the whole day trying to help me choose between the cotton voile and lawn,” she accused, pointing a fry at him before she popped it in her mouth. “You don’t even know what the difference is.”

“I’ve been paying attention,” he protested, and stole another piece of fried potato from her plate. “And you’re having fun now, aren’t you?” he asked, returning to their original topic, and he nudged her foot under the table. “Unless that’s a grin of terror.”

She giggled, and then sighed. “Yeah, but that’s different. Spending time with you doesn’t make me so anxious that I want to throw up.”

“It’s probably not a good idea to date someone who makes you want to throw up,” he agreed. “You must have had some good dates, though. They can’t have all been universally awful. What was the best date you ever went on?”

Marinette fell silent and chewed on her lip for a moment, her gaze focused on the salt cellar as she lined it up carefully with the edge of her plate. Without looking up, she admitted, “Crocodile Heart.”

“Seriously?” Luka said in disbelief.

She didn’t blame him. She’d ditched him to deal with an akuma attack, just when he’d been about to kiss her, and left him sitting there on his own in the movie theatre. She’d been an awful girlfriend, and the movie probably brought up bad memories for him, but… she’d been having the best time with him, before the akuma interrupted everything and screwed up her life.

He was lost in thought as he walked her home, but the slow, sweet smile he gave her when he said goodbye left her feeling warm, and even running late for school the next morning couldn’t put a dent in her mood.

“You’re in a good mood this morning. Did you have a date yesterday?” Alya whispered at her as Marinette slid hastily into the seat beside her, and Marinette screwed up her nose at her friend.

“No more dates. Dating sucks, and I’m swearing off the whole idea. I’m probably going to die alone,” she sighed, but she felt too cheerful to be really dismayed at the thought.

Somewhere behind her, Marinette heard a muffled squeak. When she glanced behind her, she saw Juleka with her hand over Rose’s mouth, and Rose turning a little pink. Juleka waved Marinette away before she could ask what was going on, and Marinette turned back to face the front, frowning. Alya poked her in the ribs, pulling her attention back from whatever Rose and Juleka were up to.

“But you went out yesterday,” Alya prodded, and Marinette couldn’t help the smile that crept over her face again.

“I just had a good day yesterday. There was a sale on at Marché St Pierre, and I got some beautiful voile that’s going to make a gorgeous blouse, or maybe a summer dress if I can come up with the right idea for it, and -”

“That’s what you’re grinning about?” Alya teased, rolling her eyes. “A fabric sale? Girl, you’re hopeless.”

“Like you didn’t spend weeks going on about how good the new graphics software for the Ladyblog was,” Marinette whispered back. “I think Nino was starting to get jealous.”

“Yeah, but that was –“ Alya broke off as their teacher cleared her throat and gave them a pointed look.

The moment that the bell rang for the end of the day, though, Alya took up the argument again.

“So, there’s this guy that Nino knows from –“

“Alya,” Marinette groaned as she shouldered her school bag, and her best friend followed her out of the classroom and down into the quadrangle.

“You can’t just give up on love like this,” Alya insisted. “And he’s really cute. You’d be great together, and it’s just one –“

“No more dates,” Marinette said emphatically, and pushed through the main doors. At the bottom of the steps, she could see a familiar head of blue hair, and she felt an odd little kick in her pulse.

“Fine, no dates,” Alya was grumbling somewhere behind her. “But if you change your mind, call me. Later, girl.”

Luka was leaning against the streetlight just below the school steps. He had earphones in, one foot propped against the light post and tapping along with whatever he was listening to, but he looked up as students started streaming past him, and Marinette paused at the top of the steps, just watching him for a minute. He was there for his sister, she knew, but his mouth quirked up in a smile when he caught sight of her, and she gave him a little wave in response.

Juleka stomped past her down the steps, muttering something that Marinette couldn’t hear over the chatter around her. As Juleka reached him, Luka reached out to pull his sister into a hug, but his eyes shifted back to find Marinette again.

“You go on ahead,” she heard him say, as Juleka ducked away and pulled a face. “I just need to ask Marinette something.”

She came down the steps as headed in her direction.

“Marinette, are you free Saturday night?” he asked, and Marinette looked up in surprise. His voice was as calm as ever, and he was smiling at her, but there was a hint of tension in him that she wasn’t used to seeing while he waited for her response.

She’d given up on Saturday night dates, so of course she was free. Hanging out with Luka was much more fun than any date, anyway.

“I don’t have anything on. What did you have in mind?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“What is it?” she asked, but Luka just gave her an enigmatic smile, and shook his head.

“You’ll see.”

The problem with not knowing where they were going, or what Luka wanted to show her, was that it made choosing an appropriate outfit very difficult. Were they going to be inside or outdoors? Would she need sensible shoes? What if she wore the wrong thing? And she knew that Luka would always say that whatever she was comfortable with was fine, but she was still second guessing her choice, and whether she was too dressed up, when her phone chimed on Saturday with Luka’s message that he was downstairs.

It was too late to change, and she snatched up her handbag and flew down to open the door for him, a little breathless.

Luka straightened, his eyes widening a little as he took her in.

“Wow,” he said softly.

Marinette smoothed a nervous hand down the floaty layers of her dress. It was something she’d always planned to wear on a date one day, but that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. She’d decided that it was a shame to let it go to waste. And it felt nice to have someone look at her like that.

It felt good to have Luka looking at her like that.

She glanced up at him. “Do you like it?”

Luka swallowed, and said a little roughly, “I’m feeling a little underdressed now. You look stunning, Melody.”

“It’s not too much for… wherever we’re going?”

“It’s perfect,” he reassured her. He refused to tell her, though, what they were doing. He just smiled at her as she teased him over dinner about where he was planning to take her.

“And we had to get dinner first?” she asked, one eyebrow arching.

“I was hungry, and there won’t be anything to see for a while yet. Not until it’s properly dark.”

“A clue!” she said excitedly, and she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing at him. “So it’s something after dark… you’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

Luka laughed. “No, that would be Juleka.”

“So it’s not a secret vampire lair?” She pouted, and Luka snorted, but his eyes were fond on her.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he grinned, and glanced out the window at the slowly darkening sky. “We’ve got time before we need to go – did you want dessert?”

Marinette was so busy trading tastes of his brȗlée with her Baba au Rhum, and trying to coax more clues out of Luka, that she hadn’t even realised how late it was getting until Luka put down his spoon.

“I think it’s dark enough now. Let me know when you’re ready,” he said, and Marinette glanced up, startled. The only light outside the little restaurant was the warm glow of the street lights and the glittering neon of shop signs. When Marinette put aside her own empty dish, Luka stood and offered her his hand.

He kept her hand in his as he led her out of the restaurant and they slowly strolled along the street. There was a comfortable silence between them, and Marinette was very conscious of the feel of his hand around hers. She wished it could always be like this.

Marinette thought Luka was leading her towards the Trocadéro, so when he turned into a little side street, she glanced up in surprise. He turned his head to give her a soft smile.

“Not far now,” he offered. “Are you okay to walk a bit further?”

“Of course. I just wish I knew where you were taking me.”

His smile grew a bit impish. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

He stopped in front of a high, ornate, iron fence. In the dim light filtering down from the windows across the narrow alleyway, and the streetlight back on the corner, Marinette could make out bicycle wheels woven into the spokes of the fence, and a motley collection of objects embedded in the gate that Luka was holding open for her.

“What is this?” she asked.

All Luka said was, “Come in and find out.”

She followed him through the gate and into the space beyond.

Marinette was barely aware of the quiet snick of the gate shutting behind her as the soft darkness enveloped them. Luka’s hand in hers led her forward and around a bend in the path under her feet, and then her vision adjusted, leaving her open-mouthed and staring as the darkness bloomed.

There were trees overhead, the branches dancing with fairylights in the night breeze, and coloured lights glimmered among the shrubs that clustered around the path. She could make out the glowing shapes of fantastical lantern creatures lurking among the flowers, and the darker shadows of even more fantastical sculptures that had been formed out of old pots and pipes and rubbish.

The tiny lights twined their way through a tunnel of bicycle parts and junk that was somehow transmuted by the soft, flickering points of light into something that felt like a fairy bazaar, and when she looked down, the golden shimmer skittered over a beautiful mosaic of tiles and pieces of glass and pottery shards that spiralled and wove through this enchanted artists’ garden.

And as her eyes were drawn back up again, everywhere there were dragonflies and butterflies made of golden lights and glass and every kind of metal, settled in the trees and the shrubs and drawing lines of light in the dark night air as the breeze moved them.

“Oh, Luka,” she breathed.

His fingers squeezed her hand gently, but he said nothing, simply letting her draw him with her as she slowly drifted through the garden, taking it all in.

“How on earth did you find this place?” she asked eventually, her voice hushed and almost afraid to break the tranquil enchantment around them.

“I stumbled across it one night when I was on my way home from a gig,” he said just as quietly. “I took a short cut through the alley, and somehow ended up in here. I thought you might like it.”

“Oh, Luka,” she repeated, and let go of his hand to throw her arms around him.

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then his arms closed around her. They stayed like that for a long, perfect moment, and Marinette wished it could go on forever. When he slowly released her, though, Marinette let him go, but her eyes were shining in the shimmer of the fairylights and coloured lanterns as she looked up at him.

“Thank you.”

She turned in a dawdling circle, taking in the twinkling lights among the trees and the shadows, and the way it caught on the sculptures and mosaics. The warm night air felt rich with the scent of jasmine, and charged with the electricity of art and creation, and Marinette drew in a slow, deep breath until she felt full with it.

“This is… magic,” she said, and her voice was hushed.

Luka’s smile was strangely wistful as he took her hand again. “You deserve a bit of magic,” he said softly. “You make so much of it for everyone else.”

Marinette felt like she was almost floating by the time they reached the bakery again, and as she said goodnight to Luka, she lifted on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and then fled inside.

It was hard to hide her euphoric mood, and even Alya’s pointed comments couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

“… Seriously, Mari, what’s gotten into you lately?” Alya asked as they followed the rest of the girls back to the Liberty for Sunday study and gossip. “Did something happen that you’re not telling me?”

Marinette managed to deflect the question as they reached the boat, reluctant to tell Alya all about the artists’ garden. She didn’t think that Alya would understand just how special that garden was, and trying to explain it to her would only diminish the moment somehow.

It hadn’t just been the garden, a sly little voice suggested.

She didn’t really notice the odd looks the girls were giving her, and she tuned out of what Alya was saying. She could hear the sounds of Luka moving around in the kitchen, out of sight, and humming a soft tune, and she was trying to work out what it was.

“… Marinette?”

“Hmm?”

“Marinette!” Rose said more insistently, and Marinette turned her head to find Rose with her chin propped on her hands and her bright blue eyes fixed on Marinette. “So, how was your date last Saturday?” she asked meaningfully.

Alya broke off what she’d been saying to turn a frown on Marinette. “I thought you’d sworn off dating.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a date,” she said, ignoring Rose’s huff of disbelief. “Luka just wanted to show me this place he’d found, and… and we got dinner…” Like they’d got lunch together after they’d been shopping, and icecream before that, after the walk along the river, and really, the gardens last night would have been a perfect date, with the fairylights and magic in the air, if they were… “Sonofa-!“

Rose was giving her a smug grin, and Marinette started swearing, creatively and fluently, ignoring the shocked looks from the rest of the girls, and the way Juleka’s mouth quirked up behind her curtain of hair.

Just because Marinette didn’t usually swear didn’t mean she didn’t know how to, and sometimes a bit of profanity was in order.

“That conniving…”

“Luka’s not conniving,” Mylene objected.

“Oh, he totally is,” Juleka muttered back.

“You went on a date with Luka??” Alya practically shrieked.

“…sneaky, tricky, scheming, devious… Couffaine,” Marinette spluttered.

“Hey!” Juleka protested, but she was grinning, and added to Rose, “I told you she’d figure it out in the end.”

Marinette shoved herself to her feet and stalked out of the room, following the sound of opening cupboards and soft humming. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands planted on her hips, watching Luka stretch to pull the jar of coffee out of the overhead cupboard and she was not paying attention to the way his shirt rode up to expose bare skin above the waistband of his jeans, or the way his muscles flexed and shifted with the movement.

He turned with the jar in his hands, and broke of his humming when he saw her there, giving her that smile of his that always sent a little fizz of something through her, but she trying to not pay attention to that either.

“Marinette,” he said, his voice making her name something soft and fond.

And she wasn’t falling for that, either. “Why didn’t you tell me they were dates?” she demanded.

“I didn’t think it was a big secret. Is it really that much of a surprise that I might want to date you?” Luka asked, and if she hadn’t been a little distracted, she might have heard the note of strain creep in under the calm amusement in his voice. He put down the jar of coffee, and reached for a mug.

“Of course it didn’t occur to me that you might want to date me again! I was the worst girlfriend ever. I kept running out on you, and I lied to you –“

“I screwed it up too,” he said, interrupting her spiralling flow of words.

She shook her head vehemently at that, because Luka had been amazing. Patient and sweet, and everything she’d wanted…

“I did,” he insisted. “I didn’t realise… I should have known that if you weren’t telling me the truth, it was because you couldn’t.”

Marinette had had her suspicions for a while that Luka knew more than he let on about who she was. He was skirting very close to admitting it.

“I wanted to tell you,” she said, deflating a little. “I wanted to tell you so much, and keeping secrets always goes badly for me. But the thing is, when I tell anyone else, it goes really, really badly for all of… for everyone.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know that now, and I should have known it then.”

He turned the mug over in his hands before he set it carefully on the counter, and looked up to meet her eyes again. “I’ve never made any secret of how I feel about you, Marinette, and if the only reason that we’re not still together is because you had to… ditch a few dates with me and couldn’t tell me why, then I’m hoping you might want to give it – give us another try. You deserve all the romance and magic in the world, and if I can give you a bit of that, if you want me to give you a little bit of that, then I don’t care what we call it.”

As if she’d ever wanted anything else.

“But if I’d known they were dates, I could have been getting kisses,” Marinette said mournfully, and felt a spark of satisfaction as Luka jerked upright and nearly knocked his mug off the bench. “That’s something that happens on dates, isn’t it?”

Luka absently set the mug upright again.

“There’s one way to find out,” he said slowly, his deep blue eyes on her. “Would you like to go out with me tonight? On a very definitely a date?”

Marinette gave him a limpid look and batted her eyelashes at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

And there were definitely kisses involved.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #they're idiots your honor #Dating Sucks #mlb fic #dammit Ver

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