#Pro Lukamari
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castles-in-the-eyre · 9 months ago
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WANTED: one luka couffaine & the requisite incredible life-affirming cuddles. đŸŽŒđŸŽ€
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airi-p4 · 3 months ago
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For @lukacouffaineappreciation LuKitty Week 2024
Day 22: Luka x Lady Noire (+ Day 25: Purr)
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lukrecious · 1 year ago
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"Under the moonlight, by the sea, KISS ME!"
(feat. cosy Scottish knits)
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ladyfreya123 · 3 months ago
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LuKitty Week 2024 Day 22: Luka x Lady Noire
@lukacouffaineappreciation
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mc-lukanette · 3 months ago
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"I'm the least-witch witch ever," Marinette groaned, burying her head in her arms on the table. A book titled History of Witch Fashion, thick but shockingly lacking in substance, laid open in front of her, turned all the way to the last page.
She understood it to some degree. Witches of the past had little need to change the way they looked due to their circumstances, as they tended to live far out in the woods where no one would see them anyway. It was a "waste" to worry about updating their look, and wearing all black tended to make camouflaging spells go more smoothly if they needed to go anywhere potentially dangerous at night.
Even in the modern day, there remained reasons to stick to tradition, such as to ensure that people knew what they were. Anyone who looked like a "genuine witch" was someone people could trust for potions or spells once magic became more socially acceptable.
But Marinette's problem was simple: she hated it. She couldn't pull off the all black look and found the generic pointy witch hats to, quite bluntly, look like traffic cones that just came back from a funeral.
"I don't even have a black cat!" she cried out in distress.
"Mrrah?"
She pushed herself up, turning to the white short-haired cat sitting nearby. "It's not your fault, Clawton! You're perfect just the way you are!"
The cat puffed out its chest with pride, a tiny gentlecat without a tuxedo.
Marinette smiled, feeling a little cheered up by it, but faltered when she looked at the book again. Centuries of witch fashion laid before her, yet there were only tiny, insignificant changes made over time. Even seasonal changes recommended temperature-related spells to show off instead of dressing for the weather like a normal person.
"It's fine!" she told herself, hitting the table with both hands. A surge of magic caused the book to float upwards, and Marinette ordered it into the garbage, deciding, "I'll just... have to take the witch fashion world by storm, all by myself!"
Clawton let out a concerned mew, but didn't protest.
—————
Step one of Marinette's lack of a plan was finding inspiration, and there were few better ways of doing that than walking around the town and taking in the sights. Clawton walked next to her, tiny pawsteps sounding beside her own footsteps as she scribbled anything that gave even remotely "witch-y" vibes. It was like making a mood board.
Nothing solid was forming in her head thus far, but it was better than nothing. While it wasn't likely to happen, she did hope for that special spark, that magical thing that'd make her go—
"Mrreow!"
Marinette stopped, surprised to hear her cat speak up when it was usually so quiet in public. Looking down, she called out worriedly, "Clawton?"
It didn't even glance at her, taking off like a shot down the street. She gasped, shocked but reacting quickly enough to chase after it.
"Hey, come back! Where are you going?"
She only hoped that her mood as of late hadn't been affecting it. Cats were sensitive to magical and emotional fluctuations in witches, making them solid pets but ones that could also take on or share a witch's stress if they chose to.
If that did end up being the case, she probably owed it a few treats.
Clawton turned on a dime to dart around a corner, Marinette not far behind. She heard someone yelp and fall over just as she turned that same corner, though slightly clumsier than her cat had been.
Sitting on the ground was a teenage boy, probably around her age, though she focused on little else when she saw Clawton purring in his lap. Horrified, she hurried to the two, plucking her cat from him and settling it in her arms.
She rambled off, "I'm so sorry! It's not usually like that, but now it knocked you over and—did it rip your clothes?! I swear I'll sew them up—I'll make it better even, I—!"
"They didn't scratch me."
Marinette paused mid-sentence, somehow managing to hear his soft voice over her panicking, and blinked at him. Taking in what she had assumed were "cat scratches," she realized that they were actually purposeful rips in the clothes. Even the knees of his pants had similar ones when she actually looked, and they more obviously weren't caused by a cat.
As the boy stood back up, entirely calm despite what had happened, Clawton hopped down from her arms to do figure eights around his legs. Marinette was still busy taking in his fashion, eyes scanning him up and down to fully capture it.
His pants and shoes were notably black, but not too much even with his black hair. He kept it interesting with the white and shades of blue he wore on his upper body, in addition to the blue highlights in his hair that were either natural or dyed. The rips she'd mistaken for cat scratches did still give off the same energy in a way, and if they were in another place, then maybe—
Marinette's eyes widened. Without another thought, she stepped forward, taking the boy's hands and clasping them together in her own. Looking him right in the eyes, she asked spontaneously, "Will you be my muse?!"
He blinked.
—————
The embarrassment took a few seconds to strike, after which came a slew of apologies and a promise to make up for the onslaught from both her and her cat. He insisted it was fine, but she insisted right back.
They eventually ended up sitting on a bench together at a public flower garden, complete with iced tea that Marinette had bought for them. Apparently, the boy often went there himself for his own inspiration - just as a musician rather than a fashion designer - so he smelled strongly of flowers that her cat adored, which explained why it had jumped him.
While Clawton rolled around and stretched amongst some thyme, the boy took a sip of his iced tea and wondered aloud, "So, changing witch fashion all on your own, huh?"
She whined, wishing she could hide behind her own cup. "I know. It sounds insane."
"No, I like the sound of that." He turned to her with a gentle smile. "I'm Luka, by the way."
She shot him a skeptical look. "Marinette. Are we exchanging names because you want a restraining order?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're fine. Honestly, I want to help you if I can."
"Really?" She paused. "Clawton didn't hit your head, did he? I know I said when we were getting drinks that you'd get benefits if this took off, but..."
He leaned back against the bench and swung an arm over the top of it, shrugging with the arm holding his cup. "I think if anyone can do it, it's you. You have incredible energy, Marinette." He grinned. "Enough to ask a stranger to be your muse."
He somehow felt positive enough about the experience to joke about it. Marinette knew then that either she had overreacted, she had struck diamond in finding this boy, or both. Either way, giving him up would be the most foolish thing she could do.
It helped that he, now that she was truly looking at him and not just his clothes, was exactly her type. He dressed in a style that was clearly his own and carried himself as such, confident and comfortable in the clothes he wore without coming off arrogant. Better yet was that he still had cat fur on his pants from when Clawton had rubbed itself on him, yet he seemed totally unbothered.
Gods and goddesses above, he was perfect.
Of course, if he was going to be her muse for such an important task, then it would have to be strictly professional, so she tried not to think about it too hard. She'd been told before that she could be a bit much, so she would have to be all business about this.
"Can I add a condition?" Luka asked suddenly.
"Huh? Yeah—er, yes." She tried to say it formally, straightening her back in perfect posture even if the colorful cup of iced tea kind of ruined it. "What is it?"
The corner of his lips twitched into a brief smirk at the action, but he carried on, "Can you be my muse too?"
"Ah?" Her shoulders slumped, already ruining the poise she'd been trying to maintain. "Me? You mean Clawton?"
"You," he insisted. "I like your cat too, but I think you're interesting, Marinette. If we're going to get to know each other, shouldn't we do it the best way creative people like us do?"
The logic was hard to argue with, especially with the slew of emotions he'd just caused her: bafflement that he'd want her of all people as a muse, shyness at the look he'd given her when he'd said it, and all of that preceding sheer joy.
"S-so you'll really do it then?" she realized, bouncing up out of her seat and facing him. "You'll be my muse?!"
He nodded, reaching a hand up to her for a handshake. "We've got a deal."
"Yes! I could just kiss you!" she blurted out. A second later, she caught herself and quickly corrected, "Ah, not really—not now—unless you—ah, thanks!"
She put her own hand out to complete the handshake, the two positively beaming, and thus began the relationship between the two teenage business partners that just happened to be each other's muse.
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lineith · 5 months ago
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Marinette straightened her dress and took a steadying breath before she went on. She wasn’t entirely comfortable in the strapless gown, though she loved the silhouette. She glanced at the house, it was pretty full tonight—there was a new face though. Sitting at a table on his own, the empty seats were a sign of danger she didn’t know how to interpret.
She felt Luka’s presence just before he spoke. His voice was soft and low in her ear. “I need your help tonight, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette let the ghost of the shiver his closeness caused to ripple through her without letting it show.
She glanced at the mirror above the piano, she could just make out Luka standing behind her, half hidden in shadow. He looked completely at ease, his hands tucked into his pockets. But while he wasn’t touching her, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her ear. He was so close that the heat of him seemed to sear her back. It took all of her willpower to not lean back into him. She nodded once, focusing on his words carefully. -----------------------
Here's my half of a collab with the wonderful @rierse for this year's Lukanette Big Bang!
This image belongs to chapter 5 "Insights" of her film noir AU "Luck be a Lady".
The amount of research that went into this fic-- I'm floored. Honestly, if you're into mysteries, go check it out!
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mystic-myrtille · 9 months ago
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Mari supporting her guitar bfđŸ©·đŸ©”
Based on the twitter meme under the cut!
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kari-go · 2 years ago
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Hear me out...
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She’s judging you.
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pancakebm · 1 year ago
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writer-rider-flirty-thirties · 2 years ago
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"It's a happy ending." He assures though. "A very happy ending."
I commisioned these wonderful pieces from @carolgpr for my fic Should I Stay Or Should I Go (they’ll be posted in the fic some time this week). It’s so amazing! 💜
Thank you so much!!! Go check them out!!! 
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lovebugs-and-snakecharmers · 19 days ago
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LBSC Sprint Challenge January 2025
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The LBSC Sprint Challenge is now open for writers and artists! The prompts are:
1. "You're going to be really successful, I need to marry you while I still have a shot." 2. In an attempt to get her to relax already, Luka gives Marinette a "Honey Don't" List. 3. Friends with benefits consequences 4. Who betrays you once, will betray you a thousand times. There is no need to drink the whole sea to realize it is salty. 5. A gives a not really encouraging, kind of insulting, completely unrehearsed pep talk. B: "That's your pep talk?" A: "...yeah, it's a little rough." B: "A little...as a friend, you are dead to me." (Leverage) 6. Wildcard - pick any previous challenge prompt, or play LBSC Smooch Roulette to generate a prompt!
You have until Wednesday, January 29 to complete your 3 15-minute sprints/45 minute art sprint and post the results. Once you’ve completed the sprints, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions and make it feel complete, and whatever work you feel appropriate to get your art to a state you consider ‘finished’).
Please note you may sprint in the language of your choice, and you can either translate the final fic before posting, post it in the original language, or both as you choose. You can join us on the LBSC discord or sprint on your own! Just be sure to tag @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers in your final post so we will see it and reblog it. The rest of the rules can be found here under the cut.
Rules!
We’ll post a beginning and end date to the challenge, and a prompt.
Writers, If you choose to participate in the event, write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). You can also choose to break that 45 minutes up differently if you find a different split works better for you.  After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got. Tag your posts with @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers so we can reblog it to the LBSC blog. If you post your work on AO3 or somewhere other than Tumblr, you can leave a link in our ask box or in the appropriate discord channel so we can be sure to promote it. After the designated challenge end date, we’ll compile a listing of the submissions and post it to the LBSC blog.
Feel free to sprint in whatever language is most comfortable to you! You can post it in your own language or translate it before posting, or both!
Artists, you have 45 minutes to sketch and 24 hours to do any cleanup or coloring you’d like to complete. You can split your 45 minutes up however you like, or not at all. There’s no requirements on your finished piece, just aim for whatever goal seems challenging but achievable to you.  Tag your posts with @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers so we can reblog it to the LBSC blog. If you post your work on Instagram or somewhere other than Tumblr, you can leave a link in our ask box or in the appropriate discord channel so we can be sure to promote it. After the designated challenge end date, we’ll compile a listing of the submissions and post it to the LBSC blog.
If you’re wavering as to whether or not you think you can accomplish anything in 45 minutes, we really encourage you to give the challenge a try. You may be surprised what you can do! Feel free to join us in the discord linked above so we can encourage and cheer you on.
Obviously, this has to run a bit on the honor system and we won’t be tracking your times, but please do your best to honor the spirit of the challenge! If your sprint fic becomes an Entire Thing (these things happen sometimes) and you want to continue it, feel free! However, please still post whatever you’ve got after your 3 sprints with the tag. No fair busting out a fully polished fic or art without showing us what it looked like at the challenge stage!
We want to keep this a positive space and event! This does NOT mean that you can’t write or draw anything critical of a character or episode, but it isn’t the space for character bashing or hate either. Please keep the characters in character and save the more speculative work for another time. NSFW sprint works are permitted but must be tagged appropriately (please use “NSFW LBSC sprint challenge” for easy filtering on the blog) and with appropriate warnings.  (More FAQ about the process here)
This is a Lukanette blog and a Lukanette event, so while Lukanette does not need to be the main ship, it needs to at least be included or referenced and considered endgame (in other words, they don’t have to be together by the end of your work, but the intent is that they’re headed in that direction). The decision about what qualifies for reblog rests solely with the LBSC moderators. If a piece hasn’t been reblogged within a couple of days, either the mods felt the piece didn’t meet the criteria or it was simply missed; you are welcome to reach out in the asks to inquire which. There are plenty of other spaces out there for other ships and OT3s, and people are welcome to use the challenge rules and prompts to write for their own ships! They just won’t be reblogged to the LBSC blog, and we ask that you please not use the event tag (a modified form is fine - “InsertAlternateShipName sprint challenge” instead of “LBSC sprint challenge,” for example).
Happy sprinting!
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castles-in-the-eyre · 1 year ago
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been thinking about casual affection
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airi-p4 · 3 months ago
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Lukanette comic: Lipstick 9 [EXTRA] 💄💋
<prev || First ||
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lukrecious · 10 months ago
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In the heart of the storm So far from the shore She has found her love And a place to call home
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ladyfreya123 · 2 months ago
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Biker AU. Chapter 3. Part 8.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Bonus | Part 8 | Part 9
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mc-lukanette · 2 months ago
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The bell of the bakery rang, followed by the sound of a pair of boots against the floor. Sabine looked up, brightening at the familiar faces.
"Tom! Look who's here!" she exclaimed, beckoning her husband closer with a wave of her hand.
Tom stopped putting a tray in the oven to look up, beamed, then remembered his task and hurried to finish so he could face their customer properly. Throwing off his oven mitts, he greeted happily, "Anarka! And you even brought little Luka!"
"Everything looks little to you, sailor," Anarka commented with a snort, though he wasn't wrong. She adjusted her one-armed grip on her baby boy, ensuring he was secure against her.
That, in all likelihood, wasn't an actual concern. Luka, despite his young age, had his tiny hands grasping tight to his mother's clothes, as if she would let go of him at any moment. Anyone could imagine him hanging on for dear life even without an arm supporting him.
"Did you come by for a teething rusk?" Sabine wondered. It'd been a special offer for any parent who needed them for their baby at no charge; she and Tom knew from experience how expensive babies could be regardless of such concerns, so they helped others where they could.
"No, but I wouldn't say 'no' to having a few." She raised two fingers. "But Luka's not the only one who needs them."
"Of course." Sabine got a bag ready. "Where is your other one? Sweet baby Juleka?"
Juleka was a quiet one, even more so than Luka, which was a strange thought when considering what their mother was like. It was to the point where you wouldn't know Juleka was there unless you saw her, but it was remained odd seeing a brother without his twin sister.
Anarka tossed her head back with a groan. "With a friend of mine. It's a handful having them together sometimes."
Tom chuckled. "I know just what you mean. Our Marinette is a handful all by herself!"
"Ahh—" She looked off to the side, then to Luka in consideration. Taking a step to be right against the counter, she put a hand to Luka's ear and moved his head so his other ear was against her clothes, keeping him from hearing much as she leaned close to them. "It's actually because of this one."
Tom and Sabine exchanged a look of concern. Was such a cute baby already getting a bad boy streak?
"Oh, they're not fighting," Anarka clarified, standing straight and uncovering Luka's ear, "but he has habits. Never seen a baby feeling suffocated by attention."
She gestured at the chubby hands that still hadn't let go of her. Tom put a hand to his chin, stroking his mustache with his index finger as he tried to piece together what she meant.
She pointed a finger at her son, stressing, "He. Hugs. Everyone."
Luka stared at her fingertip from under his thick, fluffy black hair, following the conversation about as well as the other two.
"That's... sweet?" Sabine commented, not seeing what the problem was.
Anarka shook her head. "Poor Juleka just needs to cry sometimes - babies do that, you know - but Luka squeezes anyone who looks just a little upset. I'm sure she loves him, but he doesn't know when to leave people alone. I had to keep them in separate cribs or he'd hold her all night, but then he gets fussy without something to hold."
That made somewhat more sense and made Sabine a little curious. She made eye contact with Tom expectantly, trying to convey her thoughts without words.
"Hm," he hummed, nodding along to the telepathic conversation, "I want to see it too, dear, but I can't cry on command."
"Think about our wedding day," she countered.
Instantly, Tom let out a choking noise. Doing an amazing performance as the "baby" of everyone in the room, including the actual baby, he grew misty-eyed and muttered, "You looked so beautiful..."
"ah," Luka uttered, the first sound that he'd made since getting there. He let go of Anarka's clothes, only leaving behind wrinkles to indicate that he'd been there, and reached both hands out towards Tom. He was so quick about it that he nearly fell forwards, Tom hurrying to take him in his hands before anything happened.
"See that?" Anarka chuckled, amused. Her tone was mischievous, as of course she wouldn't have let her boy actually fall.
Tom sighed in relief, not yet recovered from the shock. He held Luka carefully and glanced over to speak to him, "man-to-man," only to get a sudden smack to his face. "Ow!"
Sabine cooed, "I think he was trying to wipe your tears away."
"He's got a strong arm for his age!" Tom half-cheered, half-protested, taking one hand off of Luka to rub the tiny mark forming on his cheek.
"That he does." Anarka puffed out her chest with pride and patted her fist against it. "He'll be throwing scoundrels overboard in no time."
Sabine raised a brow at her, wondering if she should be worried, but her thoughts drifted as she looked back at Tom. Seeing him hold a baby reminded her, "Oh, he hasn't met Marinette yet, has he?"
Tom gasped in realization. "He hasn't!" He met Anarka's gaze, questioning, "Should we have a little playdate for them?"
"Your girl is here?" She put a hand on her hip, surveying the room skeptically.
Sabine cut in, looking under the counter at something. "She was napping when we checked on her, but she's awake right now. You two can head up, I'll take care of things here."
Thus, Anarka followed Tom out the back of the bakery and up the stairs, with Tom rambling about the balance between working the bakery, having enough surveillance on Marinette so they knew when she'd need them, and getting others to babysit when it became too much. They didn't have relatives nearby besides Tom's father, who "wasn't around despite being around" as Tom delicately put it, while his mother was off traveling who knew where.
Ergo, their friends helped when needed.
Quietly as a mouse, which was funny considering his size, Tom slowly and cautiously opened the door to the living room. While Marinette had been asleep before, visually apparent from the few strands out of place amongst her soft black hair, they found her sitting in a playpen and playing with a stuffed animal. She'd lay down, holding it above her, then let it drop, but whatever reaction she expected it to make appeared to disappoint her - as much as a baby could sound disappointed - and she'd try again.
Anarka glanced up, spotting a camera in the corner of the room aimed at the baby girl, and guessed that was how Sabine knew Marinette had been awake. She gave it a faux salute, then turned when Tom started talking again.
"We've been calling it Marinette-proof," he explained, indicating the playpen itself and the toys inside. "You wouldn't believe it unless you saw it yourself. We gave her one of those little toys - the ones where you put the shapes in the holes - but not the hard ones; you blew them up with air. She was having a blast until she tried to throw one into the hole; it missed and bounced off, then bounced off the side of the playpen and hit her square in the face!"
He directed a hand to his own face to show roughly where it hit her while Anarka whistled, sympathetic but almost impressed by the bad luck on display. She was seeing a future child of chaos, surely.
She approached and leaned over the playpen, supporting herself with an arm against the edge of it as she wondered aloud, "What's she up to?"
Tom came up beside her and leaned over to get a fully unobstructed view of his daughter. "That one's supposed to stick to her, but she doesn't know how to make it do that." He sighed, but smiled tiredly. "She likes to be held during all the time we can't make for her. She's probably ignoring me because I had to put her down last. Isn't that right, pudding cup?"
Marinette didn't react, nor did she to the pitiful noise Tom made afterwards.
Upon closer inspection, Anarka spotted the soft pads on the end of the stuffed animal's arms, figuring that they'd stick to each other when brought together. While Tom's observation seemed accurate that Marinette didn't get how it worked, she at least appeared to be making a game out of dropping the stuffed animal on herself, or maybe it was only generally giving her some form of satisfaction.
Luka, whose back was facing the playpen due to him being held against Tom's chest, turned his head to follow the attention of the two adults, which was directed solely on Marinette. While she had largely ignored the two adults, the new set of eyes on her made her look up.
Anarka's baby boy and Tom and Sabine's baby girl made eye contact for the first time.
Then, without a prompt or question, Luka let go of Tom's shirt and stretched his arms out for Marinette. He pitched forward like before, trying to launch himself into the playpen headfirst, and Tom made a panicked move to keep him from plummeting for the second time that day.
"You only have one mother!" he whisper-yelled. "Do you want to lose her to a heart attack?"
Anarka, intrigued, reached out to take her son in her arms, slowly putting him down next to Marinette. "He's never done that to someone who wasn't upset, who wasn't his sister..."
Both babies stared at each other in some unspoken staring contest, Luka's arms still out as he leaned towards her. The stuffed animal, once so interesting to Marinette that it'd had her full attention, was set aside without so much of a glance at it. She stretched her arms out and went towards him as well, losing her balance but falling against him.
They both went down onto the soft surface at the bottom of the playpen, letting out little noises and giggles that almost made it seem like they were having a conversation. Tom and Anarka waited, though they weren't quite sure for what: for Marinette to finally get bored of being held by someone and push Luka away, or for Luka to finally reach his limits of holding onto someone and let go?
Neither happened. They moved occasionally, rolled around, got back up just to fall over each other again, but never released one another.
Anarka grinned, waving her wrists about to make her bracelets jingle and see if it might get their attention, but they were completely distracted. "I think my son's found himself a co-captain!"
"A what?"
—————
From there, Anarka brought Luka over as much as possible. There was no reason not to and both Luka and Marinette received all the benefits from it. It was perhaps a little early to call them playmates before they could fully understand the concept, but they enjoyed seeing each other. They brightened whenever they made eye contact and curbed the other's "worst" habit.
The parents let the other babysit for them at times. Anarka could take Marinette when Tom and Sabine were too busy, and Tom and Sabine could take Luka when Anarka needed a break from dealing with twins. Marinette and Luka had even slept in the same crib on occasion.
It was precious. The parents were fairly sure the two didn't know what sharing was yet, but the babies would play together, wait their turn when being fed, and showed each other their toys.
That wasn't to say there weren't problems, but they were purely emotional, meaning realizing their baby had a new favorite person that wasn't them.
The worst of it was when the babies started to talk. Tom and Sabine had been holding out (maybe even placed a bet or two on which of them would be her first word), but they knew deep down that Marinette's utterance of "uuka" was not just a random noise.
On Anarka's end, she had the relative luxury of pretending that "Mah" was for "Mama" and not the first part of Marinette's name.
—————
Inevitably, the babies started to grow up into semi-functioning human beings. It was speculated that they might start unattaching from each other as they gained more personality, still being friends but not clinging to each other as much. However, that did not happen, which served as something both sickeningly adorable but headache-inducing.
The moment Luka could walk without falling and memorize a path he'd been carried through over and over, Tom and Sabine caught him at the door to the bakery. He could barely open it himself, but looked up with bright, Marinette-seeking eyes like he'd done nothing wrong, all while the two co-owners peeked outside frantically for any sign of his mother.
They made sure to keep the side door locked starting that day, just to make sure Marinette wouldn't sneak out to see him too.
Since they were old enough to grasp the concept of sharing now, that was exactly what they did. Whenever one brought toys over to the other's to share, at least one or two stayed there, and Anarka laughed when she commented that Luka had about 60% of Marinette's toys and only 40% of his own in his room.
Not that it really mattered. They saw each other so often that they never regretted leaving a toy with the other, and there was a mutual unspoken promise that they'd take good care of them. The only reason the parents themselves could tell whose toy it was, even if they couldn't remember who they bought them for, was based on the type of toy it was: Luka leaned towards musical toys or ones that made sounds while Marinette liked colorful toys or ones that had her solving problems.
Luka even left his little guitar with Marinette once; his guitar, simply because she told him that she liked how it sounded! The situation was remedied when she realized that it didn't sound good without him, but it showed how close they were.
They still slept together from time to time, and not always because they stayed the night at the other's house. After a day of hard work (play), they could be found peacefully passed out together, either on the bed or a little blanket they'd put down to play on so they wouldn't be sitting on the hard floor.
It wasn't always the same. Sometimes there'd be a stuffed animal between them, or Luka's child-sized guitar would still be strapped to him like he'd lulled them both to sleep with his playing, and other times it was apparent that they'd deliberately set everything aside for a nap. On rarer occasions, they'd have tiny crumbs on their mouths, indicative of having raided the fridge for snacks before settling down to sleep.
Snacks they fed each other, in all likelihood.
It was difficult to get mad about it. Tom took pictures while Sabine sighed and made excuses about it being their fault for not hiding the sweets well enough. It probably didn't help that Anarka thought it was positively delightful, more proud than anything else when such little kids could coordinate so efficiently to find snacks no matter where or how high up they were.
On one day in particular, Tom and Sabine awoke to the small knocking noises against their bedroom door. Sabine slipped out and headed over to the door, opening it to find their little girl on the other side.
"Marinette? What's wrong?" she asked in concern.
Marinette sniffled, dressed in her pajamas but certainly not in bed. A plush was attached to her arm, as she actually got how those worked nowadays.
"Did you have a bad dream?" Sabine pressed.
Marinette nodded, looking ashamed by the fact.
"Aww, gumdrop," Tom began, getting out of the bed as well. He lifted the blanket and gestured towards the center of the mattress, offering, "Come here. You can sleep with us for the night."
She blinked her shimmering eyes at the spot indicated for her, then Sabine, then back at Tom. Finally, she shook her head, saying with a pout, "No. I want Luka."
Tom's expression cracked like an egg into flour, the man having never felt so betrayed in his life.
—————
Years continued to pass, and with the passage of time came Marinette and Luka continuing to grow up. Toys were slowly traded out for more consistent hobbies and the parents were still cherishing the precious moments when they could call their child their "baby" without any fuss about it.
Of course, with that came the cuddling elephants in the room that Tom and Sabine had consistently put off over and over, because how do you tell two preteens who had been sleeping together since literally before they could even remember that they shouldn't anymore?
"The longer we put this off, the harder it's going to be on them," Sabine said, trying to be the voice of reason between the two. It was a slow day at the bakery, making it easier for them to have a conversation.
Tom made a noise at the back of his throat, not at all enthusiastic at the idea. He hit the dough he was kneading in a mini fit of exhaustion, specks of flour being flung off onto his apron. "Maybe Anarka will talk to Luka about it soon?"
The two made eye contact for a long, considering moment, then shook their heads. Anarka was not going to talk to Luka, and they knew that. She found their relationship as "co-captains" (a term which Tom still had not gotten an explanation for) to be something that shouldn't be intruded upon.
Sabine tapped on the counter, then bent down to grab an "out on break, be back soon" sign they hadn't needed since Marinette was much, much younger. She headed over to the front door and hung it, then spun around to face Tom, hands on her hips in a show of confidence.
"We should do it now."
"Now?" he repeated, having not been given any time to prepare.
"They're both here." She pointed upwards. "We'll get it out of the way, and then we'll never have to think about it again."
Reluctantly, he relented and followed her to their self-designated fate. No matter how used to cuddling Luka and Marinette were, they were still a boy and a girl who were exhibiting signs of puberty, and it was hard to know what might happen going forward.
When they reached the top of the stairs next to the kitchen, Sabine knocked to let them know they'd be coming in. There was no answer, so she knocked again, louder, but the room on the other side remained quiet.
Exchanging a knowing look, the two invited themselves in, expecting to see the preteens lying down on the chaise lounge or Marinette's bed (in the worst case scenario), yet they weren't on either. While they initially feared that the two had snuck out for some rebellious preteen shenanigans, they noticed the abandoned guitar near the wall - Luka wouldn't have left without that - and light pouring in from above the bed.
They headed up themselves, careful not to make too much noise, and peeked up at the balcony to confirm their suspicions.
There, of course, were the two sources of their concern, sharing one lounge chair instead of the two they had blatantly bought so they had separate and equally comfy places to sit. Luka had seemingly laid down first, but with one socked foot on the floor and his legs crossed. The action gave Marinette ample legroom on the footrest as she slept on top of him, her face against him to hide from the sun while her hand gripped his hoodie. She was in just the right position for Luka to curl against her, hiding his own face against her hair while he held her.
They were like two black kittens sunbathing together.
Sabine hesitated. So did Tom. They looked at each other for a solid minute, having a wordless discussion on the matter, then sighed and left the two alone.
It wasn't a moment of weakness, they told themselves; it was just better than the alternative where the two resorted to cuddling and sleeping together in secret at Anarka's place instead of where they could see them.
—————
Juleka didn't have any particular feelings about her brother cuddling someone. Marinette was her friend, which was practically guaranteed to happen with how much Marinette came over when they were young and also now. Her mother told her stories of Luka's habit as a baby that bothered Juleka at times but perfectly aligned with Marinette's, and that checked out.
She felt the nice balance of their relationship the way it was. Luka cared about her, doted on her, but she was given space to herself when needed. In a home where they shared a room, it was nice to know that he had other places he could go or be at just about any time.
There was at least one moment when she realized that she was bothered by the seemingly endless capacity for affection on display, but it hadn't been jealousy that someone else was getting her brother's attention.
Rather, it was jealousy that her brother was getting to cuddle a cute girl, a feeling that Juleka shelved for a couple years until she could make sense of it.
Overall, she considered it a positive for all involved. Most entertaining, actually, were the people who didn't know about it and came to hang out for the first time, an occasion that Juleka put her full focus towards.
Her most vivid memory was having a group of friends over: ones who knew Marinette, but hadn't met Luka yet. She'd considered warning them, but decided it'd be funnier to catch the reaction in real time and took them down to the lounge room.
Luka was there, and of course he was because Marinette was there too. The two stared when Juleka and her friends entered, oblivious as to why they were getting looks. Marinette even had the audacity to ask, "What?"
A sight Juleka had grown all too used to seeing was right in front of her again: Marinette in Luka's lap, which was just as much of a home for her as it was for Luka's guitar. Said guitar was atop her lap instead, Marinette leaning against Luka and making it easy for him to put his arm around her to reach the guitar's neck.
"Hey, Jule," Luka greeted, unphased and not putting much thought into the reactions.
The total nonchalance he had about getting "caught" caused Juleka's friends to turn their eyes to her instead, desperate for an explanation. She mumbled a greeting back to Luka and turned away, pretending to look in the cupboard for snacks whilst trying to contain her laughter.
—————
It was inevitable, perhaps, that word would spread at Marinette's school. The bakery was right next to it, thus making for an easy view of the balcony. It wasn't like Luka and Marinette were at all careful either, not getting why they would ever have to hide how close they were.
In a way, it was more surprising that it took until Marinette was a teenager for it to be brought up. She had been sitting in the cafeteria, biting into an apple, when a hand slammed down on the table. She peered past the fruit to see Chloe, who normally disappeared around lunch to eat elsewhere, but apparently had nothing better to do that day than to bother her.
"Hey, Marinette DuPlain-Jane," she sneered, searching through her phone rather than looking at her.
Marinette munched idly, wondering how many hours Chloe spent coming up with that. A voice in her head pointed out, That's generous. It was a week at least.
The same voice corrected a second later, Actually, bet Sabrina came up with it.
She'd been bullied by Chloe for years, so she'd had countless memories of going to the Liberty rather than home in order to cry in Luka's arms as soon as possible. He held her the whole time without complaint, serving as her support outside of school.
"I'm with you," he'd promised at one point, squeezing her middle and pulling her against him. She could still imagine the sensation of his warmth against her, developed over all their time together, and his voice next to her sounding so pained due to being unable to physically be there for her.
It felt like so long ago, which was also when she'd stopped crying. She put up with the bullying, knowing that the staff didn't really care anyway, and calmed herself thinking of all the conversations she and Luka had over her, as well as the conversations she would have with him in the future.
For example, he'd scoffed when she told him about being in the same class as Chloe that year and getting bullied the very same day. "So you grew up, and she didn't? How is she still in your class?"
Marinette just barely managed to suppress a snort as the line replayed itself in her head, not wanting to instigate Chloe any further than Chloe instigated herself against her. That said, the bullying largely bounced off of her now that she was in her mid-teens.
With a noise loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear, Chloe slammed her phone down on the table. On the screen was an image of Luka on the Liberty, sleeping on a lounge chair with Marinette on top of him as usual. Lounge chairs were always their favorites when they sunk down in the middle like it wanted to be an understudy for a hammock; it helped keep them close together.
"Sleeping with a boy?"Chloe asked, also deliberately loudly. "What do you think the whole school's going to think about this?"
Marinette wondered if Chloe could send that picture to her. Excluding the shoddy photo-taking job, it was of her and Luka, and she could always digitally edit it to fix any weirdness.
Point being was that she didn't see what there was to be ashamed of, but telling Chloe that wouldn't go anywhere. While she didn't tend to engage with Chloe when she was being bullied, it was fun to do it every now and then when she could think of something to say that might be fun to tell Luka later. He'd hold her tenderly while listening to her, and his warm, low laugh would echo in her mind for the whole day afterwards.
Glancing at the photo again, Marinette put her apple down and muttered, "How embarrassing."
"Isn't it?" Chloe's smirk widened. "Because I'm about to send it—"
"For you," Marinette corrected with faux concern. "Of course you think it's embarrassing when you've never had a boyfriend before. You're still young."
Whatever Chloe was going to say next, it cut off with a choking noise. "Wha—I'm just as old as you!"
"Couldn't tell." She grabbed the stem of her apple, turning it to spin the fruit on her tray. "So something else bothered you? Oh—" She placed her other hand to her mouth in mock surprise, though she actually grimaced at the thought it conjured up when she said, "Sorry, I'm not interested in girls."
Chloe flushed bright red, either in shame, embarrassment, or both. She might've exploded right then and there by trying to start an actual fight if she felt that she could get away from it.
No longer hungry - not after Chloe breathed in the general direction of her food - Marinette slowly got up from her seat and picked up the tray.
"You—how dare you—!" Chloe hissed.
Giving her just a little more attention that she didn't deserve, Marinette gave her a once-over, eyeing the red cheeks, the blue eyeshadow, and the blond hair. Pointing to Chloe's face, Marinette added, "By the way, yellow, red, and blue are a really bad combination on you."
With that, she left, glad that Luka with his receptive hearing wasn't around to hear the shrill yell behind her.
—————
Luka let out an exhausted sigh, taking a moment to relax against the wall of a building. His part-time job wasn't awful, but it could be tiring with all the biking around and infrequent "bad" customer. Marinette tended to scold him when he looked too worn out (whatever standard that was), fretting over his whole body and reminding him to take breaks.
Thus, he made sure to do so whenever he could. Maybe he could've gotten away with not taking a break if he knew he wasn't going to be seeing her after work, but such instances were few and far between. They saw each other often enough that he probably had more pictures of him with her in his phone than with his own sister.
Not only because taking pictures together gave him an excuse to text her later to send it over.
He smiled to himself, glancing at the thin, red object hanging off of his bike. It was actually something meant to hang up in cars, but Marinette had gotten it for him as a gift.
"The smell of strawberries always perks me up!" she'd told him at the time. "Maybe it'll work for you too!"
He knew it wouldn't, but happily accepted it anyway. He could never say no to her and wouldn't dare refuse anything he could add to his collection of Marinette's various presents to him.
The reason he knew that it wouldn't work was because Marinette smelled like strawberries. After literal years of cuddling, he'd associated her with the scent, which brought him a sense of calm, warmth, and home. The "perking up" was only when she invited him over or told him she needed him, adding an extra rush to his steps.
That didn't stop him from hanging the air freshener on his bike, giving it a playful tap whenever he got off as if to say 'I'll be right back,' and enjoying the scent whenever he biked anywhere. Even the picture of strawberries on it reminded him of Marinette, as strawberries were shaped similarly to her pigtails back when she still had them.
His friends at school rolled their eyes whenever they saw it, but it was all in good fun. They'd seen him with her so many times - enough that they could joke "where there's a Marinette, there's a Luka" and vice versa - and never hesitated to tease him or ask if they'd "finally" gotten together. Juleka wasn't immune to it either, though had learned that she'd get the same answer every time.
Luka couldn't comprehend the obsession everyone had with what his relationship with Marinette was, nor the looks he'd get when he said they weren't dating but weren't "just friends." To him, Marinette wasn't a friend, wasn't a best friend, nor his girlfriend. She was, however, special to him, which was about as far as he went to put any sort of "label" on what they had.
His mother had used the term "co-captains" before, which he accepted but wouldn't use himself. How would one begin to describe a bond that extended past what they could remember?
He thought of it in the same way he thought of music. Words weren't always enough to carry emotion, and a person could be made to feel with music alone even if there weren't lyrics to tell them what the sound was trying to convey.
Luka was Luka, Marinette was Marinette, and together they just were. He could've searched for a word that might define what they had, but he didn't need to: he and Marinette understood on an abstract level what they had and that was what mattered.
A guitar without strings, a piano without keys, and a drum without a drumskin: all things that remained physical but ultimately incomplete. That was how he felt, as Marinette had been a core part of his very being and he didn't want to - couldn't, really - imagine life without her.
He paused, contemplative, then pulled out his phone and tapped down some notes. Such thoughts could make for a good song, he figured.
He sent the notes to Marinette first, as usual.
—————
Seasons passed, fashion trends faded, and songs moved onto the next verse, but Marinette and Luka's relationship stayed the same: older and wiser, sure, yet no less attached at the hip. Whether it was a driver's license or graduation, they shared their experiences with the other, who celebrated like it was their own.
Luka, being older than Marinette, had deliberately held off on going anywhere, so Juleka moved out before him. Moving out tended to mean going farther away and there weren't any places he could go that both suited him and were just as close (or closer) to the bakery.
It seemed utterly ridiculous to anyone who knew, because it wasn't as if the distance was going to stop them. They were both perfectly capable of driving and each had either a bike or a Vespa, thereby making a little extra distance negligible, but it was about the conscious choice for Luka. The path they'd both walked to reach each other from childhood to adulthood was precious to him, and they walked that path even when they had other options. To make the decision to move further away than he already was, it was unthinkable.
He never said any such thing out loud, but Marinette knew. She too had a fondness for the places they'd been together, her balcony alone littered with recollections of being there with Luka to spotting Luka walking along the path below, which often led to her rushing down the stairs at full speed to meet him at the door. She never called it nostalgia, as she wasn't sad to leave it behind, but only on the condition that it meant newer, closer experiences with him.
"We'll just have to move in together. It's the only way," she concluded at some point when he'd brought up the topic of her ideal home. She noticed his awestruck face, feeling almost shy but not really, and shrugged. "Finding two places close enough together might be a problem, and we don't even know if it'll be as easy as the way between the Liberty and the bakery." She made a motion of drawing a line between them, which was a difficult task when they were pressed together. "Unless you—"
"Yes," Luka interrupted immediately. He squeezed her tight and murmured another affirmative into her shoulder, though it was more of a sound than a word. It was like when they were still babies and Luka wanted something but didn't have the vocabulary to express it.
She buried herself against him and echoed the same sound back at him.
—————
To absolutely no one's surprise, finding a place to settle into did nothing to curb the habits of old. If anything, they got worse, as Marinette and Luka "didn't have to waste valuable time heading to see each other" that they could've already been spending with each other. Marinette might've wished she'd done it with him sooner if she hadn't known that her poor parents would've protested at the idea of her leaving the proverbial nest so soon.
But now, the two without a label were free to do as they wished. That meant holding hands whenever they weren't busy doing anything, still staying close when they were busy doing something, and making sure their house had seating that had its hammock-esque quality so they could sink against each other all over again. They got a bed to share that was cheaper than one that two people might buy normally, confident that they wouldn't need one at full width since they already slept so close anyway.
There were also new experiences to be had that they either couldn't fully take in while living separately or didn't have the occasion to before. Luka would hug Marinette from behind when she was cooking, or she'd swoop in to squeeze him when he'd come out into the living room in a bathrobe she'd made for him, fresh out of a shower.
Discussing meals they wanted to have over the course of the week, trying to sync their off days so they could make plans together, always being ready for the other to fall into their arms after a particularly hard day, and the list went on. They'd done just about everything, and it was as perfect as they could've asked for.
Marinette was thinking exactly that as she woke up one morning, not bothering to move since she didn't have anywhere in particular to be. Luka was waking up himself, smiling down at her and keeping her comfortably in his arms. It was difficult not to sync their sleeping schedules with how they were, finding the bed too tempting when the other was laying on it, so they often woke up as one unit.
She was amazed when she thought about it, how one moment from their infancy could lead up to this. Anarka had told her the story before of how they met, a baby girl sitting alone in her playpen and the baby boy who reached his arms out to her. She couldn't say what had been running through her infant mind at the time, but she was glad she reached back.
Visions of the past came together, of Luka when he was a child accepting snacks she fed him, of Luka as a teenager with his arm reaching out to her on pure muscle memory, and finally the adult Luka of the present who lived with her. She saw the highlights in his hair that he'd asked her to pick the color for, the piercings in his ears that he'd gotten while she held his hand in case it hurt him, and the lips that whispered words of comfort and affection to her whether she needed or simply wanted them.
Without another thought, she kissed those very lips. There wasn't any fanfare, or a grand declaration, or any other indication of it prior beyond the heat in her gaze; it just felt right. They'd held hands, they'd cuddled, they'd licked bits of melted chocolate or sauce from the other's fingers, and they'd pressed their foreheads together for minutes on end. Kissing was natural, like they'd been doing it forever or it was an extension of everything they'd done before.
As she pulled away, he followed after her, not letting the contact break for even a moment. His arms went further around her, one hand going lower towards her hip and the other to her shoulder. His kiss was slow at first, then more fervent when she grabbed at him to keep him close.
It wasn't a next step in their relationship, nor changed it in any significant way. The love that flowed off their tongues when calling the other's name had been there for a long time, and they would continue to do everything they already did. It was just more of each other, only with less talking.
They didn't leave the bed until their stomachs protested for them to eat, an unintentional mirror image of two babies sharing a crib until they were made to separate.
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