#the perfect set up for shenanigans with the time loop

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

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pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life. 

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door. 

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear. 

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face. 

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message. 

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately. 

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece. 

Frank: Cross my heart. 

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap. 

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug. 

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle. 

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done? 

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family. 

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever. 

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity. 

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world. 

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass. 

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else. 

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front. 

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone. 

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort. 

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.” 

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate. 

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.” 

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?” 

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone. 

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture. 

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast. 

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.” 

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands. 

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.” 

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors. 

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold. 

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.” 

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant. 

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky. 

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs. 

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you? 

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary. 

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it. 

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started. 

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite. 

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain. 

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing. 

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him. 

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came. 

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached. 

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera. 

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities. 

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again. 

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank. 

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery. 

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back. 

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie. 

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered. 

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry. 

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out. 

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”  

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed. 

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest. 

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked. 

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry. 

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers. 

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction. 

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you. 

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?” 

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes. 

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork. 

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.” 

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–” 

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest. 

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession. 

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did. 

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it. 

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh. 

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning. 

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” 

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.” 

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.” 

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you. 

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?” 

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again. 

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?” 

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin. 

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees. 

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress. 

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you. 

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again. 

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help. 

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started. 

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes. 

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right. 

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks. 

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard. 

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?” 

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.” 

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.” 

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.” 

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence. 

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip. 

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you. 

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.” 

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars. 

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.” 

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.” 

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.” 

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to. 

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?” 

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.” 

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?” 

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.” 

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.” 

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?” 

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you. 

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?” 

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover. 

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs. 

“You made me a lasagna?” 

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.” 

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?” 

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork. 

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it. 

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite. 

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you. 

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again. 

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

[imawreck]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Ghost, or Snow, gets closer with the team through team bonding; Game night.

Warnings: None really, just some team shenanigans and a drunk Tony.

Word Count: 2,770

Snow-

I had finished training for the day, and sweat dripped from the ends of my hair onto the tile of the elevator. I rubbed my head down with the hand towel I had taken out of my personal bathroom and slung it over my shoulder as the elevator came to a stop at my floor. I stepped out into the hallway, taking in a deep breath. A tinge of cologne and leather hung in the air, causing my heart to stall.

Bucky had never visited my floor before.

I walked slowly down the hallway, checking for a heartbeat or the whir of his prosthetic. If he was still here, he had hidden well. I nudged something with my foot when I came to my door, nearly leaping out of my skin. Sitting right at the base of my door frame was a familiar worn cover of the poetry book I had picked up the day Bucky had taken me to the bookstore. A small purple flower was knocked to the floor and I stooped to pick it up. A white folded piece of paper still set atop the cover and I plucked it up, unfolding it to view the delicate letters far too neat and practiced to be of this time.

“Sorry for being an ass.”- Bucky

His handwriting was masculine but neat and controlled in each cursive loop far too perfect to be of this time. I ran my finger over his name. A grin slipped through my facade as I admired his gesture. I smelled the flower, subtle but unforgettably comforting. I stood there for a long moment to commit it to memory, the scent of the flower and the feeling of the rough edge of the book against my palm, his signature permanently imprinted in my mind.

_____

Bucky-

I couldn't help but watch as she ran her fingers softly against the note I had left her. My eyes wouldn't leave her face, couldn't tear themselves away from her damp hair or the gentle curve of her nose. When she smiled a breath later, the first true and raw emotion she had displayed, it melted something inside of me. I watched as her eyes fluttered closed and she smelled the flower twirling between her fingers. She was beautiful. When she opened her eyes after a moment, her smile adopted a playful curve. "Thank you, I guess I can forgive you just this once."

My heart jumped to my throat. I was sure I had made certain I was well out of ear shot and hidden completely behind the turn farther down the main hallway.

She hugged the book to her chest, opening her door before throwing a glance down the hallway in my direction. "I like your cologne."

I shook my head, resting my forehead against the wall and letting out a soft chuckle. Go figure, should've guessed she could smell me. I couldn't wrap my head around the anomaly that was her. 

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face after she closed the door behind her, either.

_____

Snow-

That evening, Stark decided to have the team of Avengers play some board games and take a little break to lighten the mood around the tower. The Captain had dropped by not long after I had received Bucky's gift to invite me to join in. I was tempted to decline but he assured me that the team wanted me to be there. I sent him off with reassurance that I would at least show my face once this evening.

The time passed unexpectedly fast and I decided it was time to join the group in the commons room after I had showered. I threw on some more fitting clothing, having been lounging in the comfort of a sports bra and some shorts Natasha had deemed necessary for my wardrobe. I threw on a fitted Stark Industries T-shirt and some pants littered with pockets and began my trek to the elevator. The soft voice of the A.I. system spoke up before I could press any keys.

"Good evening Snow. Would you like me to take you to the commons room?"

I looked around, I was good with machines and very familiar with their odd mechanics too, but the A.I. system was still completely baffling to me. "Yes."

Her voice replied quickly and politely with a 'Right away' and I was immediately descending to the main floor. Before the door even opened I could hear the hollars from beyond. I was immediately on edge, the hairs on the back of my neck raising as I exited the elevator. The alarm quickly passed as soon as my eyes landed on the group all surrounding the large coffee table set between some very expensive couches. The team were all leaning in over a slat of brightly decorated cardboard with various expressions of disbelief and agitation. Mr. Stark however, wore the expression of a man who had struck gold.

Steve was frowning at a small pile of colored paper on his side of the table, while Tony had his hands filled with the colorful papers all fanned out between his thumbs. It was definitely a sight.

Stark, having been facing my direction, grinned wider. "Hey there Snow White, care to join us in a game of Monopoly?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets, eyeing the board and the pile of papers in his hands skeptically. "What is the mission?"

Stark chuckled, stacking up the papers and setting the pile off to the side again. "Make everyone else go bankrupt and own all the land. It's pretty easy really."

There was a chorus of scoffs and mumbled complaints at his statement and I smirked, "I'll watch."

I took a seat next to the Captain, feeling more comfortable around him than the others. Bucky was seated on his other side and gave me a small almost imperceptible smile as I slid onto the couch beside his friend. I could tell by the dwindling piles of cash littered around the table that the others weren't doing so well against the multi-millionaire.

I eased into the couch some more, eyeing the board. "What all does he own?"

Captain gave me a run down, as well as mentioning the free land and explaining more in depth how the game worked. I sat back and watched silently as Stark ate through his money but gained it back almost as quickly. The game completely confused me but after a while I began to understand, and even moved to giving subtle advice to the Captain seated next to me.

By the end of the game, Steve fanned out his earnings on the glass in front of him and Tony coddled a glass of wine. "Where did I go wrong?"

The team all wore grins of victory at Steve's accomplishment. Clint clapped a palm over his shoulder, "Way to knock him off his winning streak Cap. Finally won't hear him gloating around the tower."

They all laughed and I smiled at their camaraderie. Tony served another round of drinks, claiming that after his loss he needed some consoling. The team split up and some played other games while the others sat back and chatted amongst themselves. I was enjoying my time with them, even won a game of Uno against Natasha and Bruce. As the night progressed the games got more intense.

"Hey," Tony was well past buzzed by now, "Do you think our little Snow Princess is stronger than our Winter Soldier? Or Captain America?"

Natasha giggled uncharacteristically, "You saw her little cell stunt Tony, and her sparring too. Of course she is."

Tony frowned, taking another sip of the liquid in his glass. "But she's so small. Bucky is practically built like a brick wall, Cap too."

Everyone laughed and Bucky grinned playfully, a light blush crawling up his neck. Tony looked between us and his face brightened as a lightbulb seemed to spark behind his eyes. "Why don't we arm wrestle and see. Come on, It'll be fun! I challenge her first."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past my lips. My hand flew up to stifle it as he clumsily made his way around the table and threw his arm up, calling for something, and low and behold a chunk of metal flew right at his arm from around the wall he stood by. The metal object latched onto him and conformed to his open palm before crawling up his arm. Seconds later, his arm was completely laden with red metal clear up to his shoulder. I admired the technology, openly ogling his work.

We migrated over to the kitchen bar and he propped his metal clad arm onto the counter, a smirk plastered on his face. "You're going down."

"In your dreams, playboy." I gripped his hand firmly, laying my other palm flat against the marble. To my surprise, Bucky stepped up to the counter to count us off.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned against the edge of the counter, his eyes on our clasped hands. "Three," my smile grew. "Two," I gripped Tony's hand firmer, the metal groaning under the pressure and his eyes widened. "One...Go!”

I slammed his knuckles into the marble within moments of Bucky's que. Tony gawked at the counter in disbelief. "T-that's insane! You bent the metal!"

I grinned at him, crossing my arms. "I can take down a military reinforced door in three kicks. That's like tinfoil for me."

Bucky grinned at me, and I returned it proudly. Tony scowled at the two of us, "That still doesn't prove anything, you haven't gone against a super soldier yet. Capsicle, you're up."

He gave me a pointed look and I shrugged in reply, throwing my arm back on the counter in challenge. Steve smiled pleasantly as he took his stance across the counter, propping his arm up on the bar and grabbing my palm in his. I gripped back equally and again placed my other palm flat on the bar. He mirrored me, and Bucky began the countdown.

"Three, two, one, go."

The muscle in Steve's arm bulged as he pressed against my own. I kept a strong hold and matched his pressure. A crease formed in his brow, and I decided to make things a little more interesting. I relaxed my arm slightly, giving him some leeway. He smiled triumphantly, pushing my knuckles down closer to the marble. Bucky's brows rose, tilting his head to catch the angle better. Three inches from Steve's self proclaimed victory, I gripped his hand tighter. I began to lift, slowly but surely away from the marble, gaining back my ground. The smile dropped from Steve's face almost instantly. I could feel the throb of his heartbeat between our hands. He was really pushing himself.

I had to admit, the Captain was indeed a respectable opponent. He was built like an Ox and he definitely wasn't for show. But I had the genetic advantage over him, as well as a couple more botched experimentations. I forced his arm over to the opposite side and pressed his knuckles solidly against the marble top. He blew out the breath he had been holding and his arm went limp on the counter.

I patted his bicep, "That was a good match Captain, you're very strong."

He tilted his head to the side and studied me playfully. "You were toying with me."

"Maybe a little." I shot him a smile that he returned.

Tony set yet another glass down and waved his hands in front of us. "Alright, alright! Match is over, who's next? Come on Manchurian Candidate, you have to give it a try. We can't let little Snow White hold the title."

Bucky smiled at the ground, shaking his head. "I don't think so Stark, might as well let her have it."

"What? Absolutely not, just one try." Tony raised his brows and fanned his palms out in my direction.

I raised my arm, the left this time, to the counter in silent challenge. A flash of uncertainty lit behind his eyes but he nodded slowly, "Alright." He placed his metallic elbow against the counter slowly. It scraped against it when he adjusted and extended his hand towards me. There was hesitance in his movements, I could tell that his prosthetic wasn't the most proud feature in his eyes. I could tell in the way he held it out to me, but not all the way, or the way his head tilted slightly downwards and his eyes watched me carefully.

I didn't shy away and wrapped my palm around the cool metal of his own, folding my fingers around his thumb. I was built considerably smaller than the men I was wrestling, but I hadn't noticed until it was his turn. My fingers were much smaller than his, barely able to curve around the base of his thumb completely, and my arm much shorter and slimmer. Still, I gripped his palm firmly against my own and raised my chin defiantly. I mumbled barely above a whisper, just enough for him to hear. "Don't go easy on me, I can take it."

Bucky's head lifted and he nodded after a moment. Once we were ready, Steve counted us off.

As soon as his cue left him Bucky's arm whirred to life and the plates shifted, tightening his grip against my hand. We fought for dominance, his metal arm holding well against my grip and adjusting frequently. I pushed harder, the muscles in my shoulder aching. I pushed him back, gaining ground. His plates continued to shift and a flicker of discomfort passed over his features. I stopped pushing, holding against him as I analyzed his posture.

He was favoring his right side, his left caved in to hold the pressure. With the angle of his arm, I was certain his shoulder was struggling to hold ground. I remembered long ago, after one of his missions, Winter had told me that his shoulder would ache where metal met flesh if he had been in a rough fight that day. I wasn't sure if this counted as a rough fight, but I didn't want to take the chances. I relaxed my arm slowly, watching the look of discomfort wash away. I felt my knuckles knock against the cold marble and my eyes met his.

I smiled, stretching out my arms above my head. "There you have it Stark, guess I'm not stronger than the Winter Soldier after all."

The team laughed and I chuckled along with them as Tony rambled about statistics and impossibilities. He was quite the talkative drunk. We all took a seat back on the couches, Banner reached for a plastic box shaped device and flicked on the glass screen in front of us. As he was flicking through several channels a large weight sunk into the couch beside me.

Bucky leaned against the back of the leather seat, and shot me a subtle smile. "You could've won."

I nodded, crossing my legs and tilting my head towards him. "You were in pain. I didn't like it." I glanced back at the screen. "Plus, Tony seems to be the kind of person who would lose sleep until he made a suit that could beat me. Or try to, at least."

He watched me for a long moment, "How did you know?"

I turned back to him, "You told me once how your shoulder aches when you put too much pressure on it. I didn't want to cause you more trouble."

Bucky was quiet for a long time, folding and unfolding his hands from each other. I watched the screen in front of us as an old black and white film began to play. I was captured by it for a long while but a small voice pulled my attention back.

"Thank you." Bucky was still sitting in the same position with his head down, staring hard at his clasped hands.

I nudged him softly with my shoulder causing his brows to unfurrow. "You don't have to thank me, Bucky."

Shortly after the movie ended I returned to my floor and slipped into bed. I thought about Bucky and how quiet he was. Withdrawn even, like he used to be. In a lot of ways he was different from the soldier I knew too. He was friendly and smiled more, spoke his mind when he pleased. He had people who cared for him, those feelings returned. I was happy for him. He deserved to be happy.

Tags <3

@blackbirdwitch22 / @cjand10 / @imdoingathingmom

[active-mind-15]

10, 17, 30 & 42 for writer's ask game, please? :)

Heyyyy! Thanks for the asks!

10.  Do you set yourself deadlines?

I do not. For my WIPs, I used to try and finish chapters up a week or two after my last update, but now that I'm older and have a lot more things going on in my life right now (consequences of becoming an adult), I don't set deadlines at all. Sometimes I update in a few weeks, but these days it's more like months. But I'm trying not to let so much time pass anymore since I'm getting back into writing. If I feel the need to set deadlines later, maybe I will. For now, no.

17.  What writing habits or rituals do you have?

I always have to put on some music to write. It helps block out the world around me and keeps me immersed in my thoughts. The type of music I listen to varies, but most of the time it's Lofi instrumentals or video game soundtracks. If I find a song that keeps me particularly focused, I will then loop that song until I finish what I'm doing. That's why my Spotify Wrapped will have some weird results in some years. They'll think I'm a big fan of a specific artist when in reality that one song of theirs I looped for five hours is the only thing I've heard from them.

30.  Favourite idea you haven’t started on yet

Since I'm heavily involved with both the KNB and BTS fandoms, I'll give ideas for each!

For KNB, I have two fave ideas. The first one is a sequel to Accidental Siblings that would function more as a slice-of-life one-shot collection, but I have to finish the story first before we move on to that, so the idea is motivating me to finish, lol. The second fave idea is something I think will also be a one-shot collection but based on the headcanons I have of KNB characters playing Sky: Children of the Light. I want it to be Akashi-centric and follow the shenanigans the Teiko gang + Kagami would get up to while having gaming sessions on Sky. The whole concept of the series would be how the game acts as a vehicle for them to get closer and strengthen their friendship in different ways. I even have a name for it; I wanna call it Sky Therapy. I'm already assuming the fic idea is super niche so I'm not expecting much response to it when I finally do get along to starting it. I'm mainly just writing and posting it just for the sake of it and because I want to.

Now, for the BTS one, my fave idea I haven't started on is based on BTS member Jin's song, The Astronaut. Along with that song, Jin created a mascot named Wootteo. This is what Wootteo looks like, for reference.

Wootteo is meant to be an alien, sent to keep us company while Jin is away (The Astronaut was released right before Jin enlisted for mandatory military service). With that being said, I wanted to put a spin on it and create a sci-fi AU set in the very distant future where Jin is a robotics engineer who built Wootteo and gave it to the other six BTS members to keep them company while he was away on an important space expedition. The fic would be told from the perspective of the other six and how they're dealing with both Wootteo's presence and Jin's absence. I do have a deadline for this one, though, because I wanted to drop it on June 5th, which is 7 days before Jin is discharged from the military. I thought the timing would be perfect.

42.  How do you feel about love triangles?

I don't feel this or that about them because I don't read much romance where triangles are involved, but I think they're fine if they're done correctly. Adding love triangles just for the sake of it is tacky. Give me a good reason why the triangle exists in the first place. Give each part of the triangle proper tension and complexity.

Also, some stories claim that something is a love triangle when in reality it's just Person B and C liking Person A or Person B liking Person A and Person A liking Person C. In both scenarios, the triangle is incomplete. Give me REAL pining and unrequited love. Person B has to like Person A while Person A likes Person C and Person C likes Person B. That's where the good shit happens.

Anyway, thanks again for the asks. If anyone else wants to send me some, have a look through and pick some numbers!

[reneesbooks]

19, 20 and 23 for the road trip ask!!

so Keelan and Maura do actually go on a road trip to Guildi in chapter 6. they're in a hurry on the way there but on the way back there are plenty of opportunities for shenanigans. the longer the trip takes the more annoyed her cousin (ruler of the Guildin Empire, as if Maura cares) gets so Maura has plenty of incentive to stall bc she is that bitch. anyway road trip is a sea journey bc the road version would involve a very large desert and Maura hates sand.

ask game here

19. Imagine your OCs getting pulled into a side quest when one OC claims that they saw a cryptid

Keelan 100% makes the entire ship divert course because he thinks he saw a sea dragon. Like hypes up the entire crew to help him hunt the mythical Sea Dragon of wherever they are. Maura is rolling her eyes to hell and back but she goes along with it because sea dragons do actually exist and have some potent magical properties

20. What happens when the vehicle runs out of fuel in the middle of nowhere?

I'm imagining this being they get sucked into a deadzone by accident--like no wind, no current, big-ass heavy ship that has to be rowed out. Maura is like "i could fix this with magic and erase everybody's memory but watching it play out is funnier" and sits back with some popcorn while the crew scrambles to get the ship going again. Keelan is in charge of the scrambling and is NOT having a good time, very much wondering why Maura doesn't just fix it with magic and erase everybody's memory

23. Imagine your OCs stopping by the side of a quiet road to go stargazing. Bonus points if they all end up falling asleep together, warm, happy, and surrounded by their friends.

wouldn't you know it this actually kind of happens already in canon

The deck is empty, the ship anchored and sleeping. Maura leads him to the helm and lets go of his hand, reaching up to grab the intricate carvings on the posts of the shade. She hooks her feet in the carvings and pulls herself up along the post. Keelan raises his eyebrow but follows her lead, climbing up to the top of the shade and laying next to her on the thick canvas tied tightly between the posts.

“Birdie and I did this once when we went to Guildi,” Maura says after a minute. Keelan stares up at the sky, registering the sheer number of stars before looking over at her. She fiddles with the ribbons on her nightgown, chewing on her lower lip. “When she turned six. It was only a month or so before you arrived. I showed her how to climb this and Father was furious. He said it was too dangerous for a little girl to do such things.” She inhales shakily and he reaches over to take her hand. Her exhale is steadier. “He told me that I had to set a good example.” Her eyes flick up to the stars, their reflection making her whole eye glow silver. “So that night, I asked Levi to use magic to sneak us up here so that Birdie wouldn't be in danger of falling while she climbed up.”

She says nothing more for a while, lost in the memory. Keelan scoots closer to her on the canvas, pulling her against his side while he again looks at the stars. He searches for Leyna's Basket, the western star blinking brightly at him at the tip of Leyna's finger. He nudges Maura's arm. “Have you ever heard the story of Leyna, the goddess of grapes?”

She keeps her eyes on the sky. “I don't think I have.”

“The whole thing is long, but the important part tonight is the story of her basket. She had an enchanted basket that could turn even the sickest, most unripe grapes into perfect wine grapes. People tried to steal it, so she hid it in the stars.” He points, leaning his head up next to hers to help her find it. “See the loop of stars there, and the line that goes to the middle? That's Leyna's basket, and her finger, placing the grapes inside.”

“The western star.” Maura makes a soft sound that could be a laugh. “And that's why the best wine is made in the west?”

“That's right,” Keelan says with a grin.

She is silent for another minute before she lifts her arm, leaning her head against his. “See that little triangle there? That's the Three Sisters, the first witches in the world. Raedoran queens are said to be descended from one of the sisters' daughter. Legend has it they wrote a spell to raise the dead and hid themselves and their secrets in the heavens before they could wreak havoc on the world below.”

Keelan stares at the triangle, winking peacefully at him. “That's...that's an interesting story.”

“And there.” Maura moves her hand, pointing to another cluster of stars. “Teuthida and the Pearl Turtle. They're Birdie's favorite. Teuthida was a pet squid of the ocean goddess that swam too far one day and got lost in the stars and her friend, the Pearl Turtle, followed so that she would never be alone.” She traces the outline of the squid and the turtle in the air. Keelan looks over at her again. Her eyes are thoughtful, but not sad. “Do you think I'm swimming too far?”

“Hm.” He pulls her closer, tucking her against his side. She presses her cheek to his shoulder. “We are surrounded by stars.”

“That's not—”

“And I think I will follow you,” he adds quietly. “So that you will never be alone.”

They stay up there until dawn breaks over the horizon.

lacuna taglist (ask to be added <3):@serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson

[0poole]

I’ve never hated a movie this much in a long time

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 made me so mad that I'm breaking this random rambling blog out of retirement

I'm seriously the "enjoy everything" guy. I'm not really interested in Marvel much at all anymore, but I do honestly expect to go to a Marvel movie and have a good, simple time. But like… for some reason this one feels like a special kind of bad. I guess that's because the solution to all my genuine problems was so close.

The ONE thing I genuinely, honestly believe is an issue is that this movie isn't about Rocket enough. Everything else is stylistic junk I should've expected to have an issue with, cuz of course modern Marvel art style is just, like, awful (because it's not fully animated). But I swear

Here's the pitch: Keep all of Rocket's flashbacks as is, and keep the overall current time throughline of the crew trying to save him, but SERIOUSLY cut them down. Like, a lot a lot.Pretty much any time any form of Rocket (near-dead or young) was genuinely good content. Obviously super grim and intense for a Marvel movie, but I feel like something like that was basically guaranteed to be his backstory anyway, so I was actually hoping to see it through. Also, Floor (spider bunny) was so utterly perfect that I honestly might buy a plush of her (him? them?) and thus end up fuelling the very thing I'm criticizing in this post but I can't help it, they were a seriously amazing design. And I even have a disagreement with some of the criticism, I'm hearing from multiple (2) places that people (two people) didn't like how the main villain was so utterly despicable that they didn't like it, while I actually like him. Maybe it's my character designer brain both liking purple and also his tacked-on skinface. His weird eccentricness was really fitting for someone who believed he was god. I think the only reason he felt so despicable was because he was abusing animals, while I think if he was just your average planet-conqueror he would either be a little fun or boring. I also really liked the line someone (I think Quill) said where his crew were basically responsible for certain whole civilizations across the universe, and that they would actually call them gods.

The problem was everything in between these scenes. They tried to make this a Guardians movie when it really should've been a Rocket Raccoon movie. And yeah, I get that they wanted to call it a Guardians movie, but they still made it so much of Rocket's movie that every random interpersonal conflict not involving Rocket just felt like filler junk. I guess the fact that I knew these conflicts would be resolved by the end of the movie made them feel like petty squabbling in the moment. It's even worse with Quill and Gamora, because I honestly thought Gamora was straight-up dead from the Infinity War junk, but I guess she's just back now, minus her memories? I used to think I understood what was going on with the whole Marvel Cinematic Multiverse but I guess now I have to admit I'm out of the loop. Was there some series that established what happened to her that I heard nothing about? I don't remember one but there also have been like dozens coming out and being announced a month so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Same goes with the Soviet space dog, although that was clearly meant to be a much less deep character so I could excuse it then. I do like the prospect of the Guardians as characters being more like a rotating cast instead of a set group. 

(Also the whole concept of the Yondu-tech with the whistling and the arrow and such is still one of the coolest character design traits ever. I still will keep that much true to my heart)

But yeah anyway, not only did I really not care about most of the "important" stuff happening with the current-time shenanigans, the fact that they had the usual Marvel jokiness about it half of the time really caused some serious tonal whiplash at some points. Like, in the flashback where Purple Guy (I don't remember his name if he had one) shoots all Rocket's buddies to death and as Lila utters her last dying wish to see the sky it still cuts back to the random group banter of the other characters just being goofballs amidst the chaos. Seriously? We just witnessed the most traumatizing event in a cartoon animal's life, where his friends were murdered right before his eyes by his captor, and we still go back to that? Can't we just have some kind of emotional parachute? Maybe like a cutaway to some little trinket Rocket kept around that reminded him of them? Or at least Groot watching over the holograms they had in that meatball they stole so we can share the emotions with one of the characters?

And really, the thing that really capped it all off with the worst possible ending was the fact that Rocket didn't fucking murder the Purple Guy. What kind of catharsis is that? He literally could've just held the gun to his head and shot him dead, but I guess for some reason the Guardians have this bullshit pathos to bad guys, even though they just DON'T. They murdered dozens of random soldiers to get to where they were, BUT FOR SOME REASON THE SOLE CAUSE OF IT ALL DESERVES TO LIVE (or die ambiguously in a ship explosion, still is bullshit). Purple Guy deserved all the pain and suffering he inflicted on not only Rocket but literally all of his creations, even his lackeys, and yet for some reason they couldn't just shoot him. And not even that, but they (Nebula) clearly didn't have an issue stabbing that Sovereign guy in the heart. Was somehow terrorizing their town more bad than destroying an entire planet of your own creation? And the worst part is that Rocket was kind of defeatist about it too, like he sounded like he wanted to shoot him, but thought his buddies would be mad at him, even though his buddies were the ones killing everyone to save him. Quill literally said verbatim to Groot "Okay you can kill them all now" and then jumped off a ship to drive one of the scientist guys into the ground to scoop out his fucking brains. And even Groot, the guy who seems like he should be the most pacifistic of them all, fucking launched his arm into one of the experiments' throats to gore him from the inside with his spiky branches. Are you fucking kidding me? Even I was like "This is the shit they would rather show kids instead of a naked boob?" 

Seriously. A boob on screen would send this up to like an R rating nowadays, but apparently that, or multiple situations where one of the experiments' heads gets torn off, or their body gets sliced in half, or idk maybe a guy shooting fucking innocent little animals keeps it at a safe family film rating. Shit's like a normalized Liveleak video. 

And one last thing before I get to the less important stuff, Quill had the audacity to be the fake out death at the end when Rocket was clearly the only emotional core of the movie. It would've been so much more impactful if Rocket was the one who nearly died there. We saw his trauma all over screen, he saved his (other) animal buddies, and if doing so nearly cost him his life that would've been so much more impactful. Plus, the fact that he's not the mainest of the main characters also means there's a small chance he might actually fully die there. AND let's not forget the fact that in like the first or second movies, the exact same thing happened to Quill before and literally all they had to do to save him was to put a helmet on him. How could no one on their whole spacefaring colony have some sort of helmet to just throw out to him? Like this is turbonerd-critic-who-cares-way-too-much-about-plot-holes territory but I'm genuinely annoyed at that scene. I think it pisses me off because it wasn't just some throwaway detail in the past movies, it was the biggest deal because I think it was like Gamora or Yondu or someone who passed over their only helmet to save him, so the fact that that's how you help someone dying in the vacuum of space being so present in this series and they just completely ignored it just shows serious lack of care on whoever chose that to be the case's part. 

I feel like I should leave it at that for the serious stuff, but I obviously have a lot of random stylistic annoyances that are obviously just par for the course and I really shouldn't be angry about but I still am so

The simplest one is the music, and I feel like this annoys me more because my dad specifically actually really likes music choices like this. I realized this about him when we watched Lightyear and he was explicitly disappointed that Starman wasn't directly in the movie even though it was in all the trailers. He said something like "Movies need to have good music in them" which in principle I agree with, but the fact that he basically meant it as "Movies need to insert more classic songs into their movies" kind of annoys me honestly. I can actually like it in the first Guardians movie since back then it was a unique vibe for superhero stuff to have, but now it's so beaten down that I am really just over it. Really here specifically I have no right to be annoyed since it is truly a part of the Guardians brand, but yeah it is annoying. I do want movies to have good music, but good ORIGINAL music. Like either songs made for the movie (Sunflower and What's Up Danger, again Spiderverse does it right) or actually, somehow, make a score that actually has any degree of staying power at all. Between the "Oh I remember that song haha!" moments was still the most generic "I'm a movie" drivel. It almost made the emotional climaxes for anything besides Rocket's backstory feel really overblown because of how hard they tried to make the music carry the very shallow emotional weight of all of it. And the funny thing is that I do actually know an example, and it's Unicorn Warriors Eternal. Only 3 episodes so far and it's already one of the best cartoons I've seen, and it manages to have a completely original score that doesn't sound like it's trying to be a standalone track you buy the single for, and still matches the tone of the scene its all used for too. There have been multiple points where I've been taken aback at the score being both catchy in its own right but being really good and fun for the goofy scenes its used in. Modern cartoons are still the pinnacle of stories honestly I swear

And I guess I'm basically just going to be saying that all again because this has officially been the worst of both CGI and Practical Effects at the same time. Neither are good. Both suck. Both were terrible in this movie. Every fantastical property ever should be fully animated (or at least have impressive artistry on display like Dark Crystal or something, even though I still don't really like Dark Crystal).

The most hilariously bad part was unfortunately a part of Rocket's backstory, in the weird evolution chambers the purple guy made, where he puts in a completely normal, real animal, presses a button, and the animal turns into a crazy CGI fest transformation sequence, then literally a guy in an animal mascot costume. I can't believe it. Did no one in the editing bay look at that and think "That's what we're going with? Really?" And here's the solution: Just do it with CGI. This is where practical effects completely suck ass. Shit looked like one of the classic TMNT movies. Even if the CGI wouldn't nearly be animated correctly to truly mimic real life, it would've at least not looked pathetic. Stupid is better than pathetic. And Rocket and all the cyborg experiments are CGI anyway, as is everything else in the movie, so like… was it to save money? Do they not have money anymore? What's the point of me buying a Floor plush if they're just gonna pull trash like this?

The iffy part was with the humanoid animals in the suburb on Counter-Earth, because I truly got the joke (weird animal people in a super generic American landscape), but it still was almost too ridiculous to even get the joke good enough. I was so close to enjoying it, but I still think it would've been better if they all were extra weird in the way only CGI could provide. Think about it, a weird blob monster with like 5 malformed legs, 3 arms, a melted face, but in a polo t-shirt and khakis mowing a well-pruned lawn would've been so much better. Not just someone who's clearly just a human with a lot of makeup and plastic on their face. Or, in this case I feel like they were adapting an exact moment from the comics, and I can only imagine that moment was so much better then because of the stylistic way you can represent these people. This is a big case where my catchphrase of "animate everything" Actually makes so much more sense 

And the last case is of course with everyone else. I'm still making it a mission statement of my own sci-fi universe-sprawling world to have plenty of body types that aren't just "human but with weird face parts." And I'm extra mad here because there was ONE background character that was exactly what I wanted, in between all the random humans with face paint. It was when the Ravagers first boarded the ship and Gamora came out, one of them was this weird mouthless serpent guy with Dr Strange powers who speaks in visualizing emoticons with magic. First of all, the fact that he uses normal ass emojis was actually funny and I liked it, but aside from that when he first came on screen I was seriously like "WHO IS HE????" because I'm so not used to any character being that cool looking. Again, this is what CGI can do right. It can show you weird monsters that actually look interesting and show diversity in this world which is supposed to take into account every single species that exists across every planet ever. Man, if only there were a show that took place exclusively in space that was expertly animated and character-designed to actually represent all the weirdness that can happen across the univer--Oh wait it exists it's Wander Over Yonder my favorite show of all time funny how that works anyway

The last bit was all the suits and stuff all the guard people were wearing, especially on that fleshy starbase thing. My mom put it perfectly, where it feels like the era of sci fi in things like Sharkboy and Lavagirl or Spy Kids 3D where they just look so stupid and goofy. Back then, it's charming because it was a product of the time. Now, it just looks dumb. The whole location was made to show like how flesh can be bent to their whim or whatever, right? Why not make it so their armor is much more obviously fleshy, and also directly attached to their skin instead of being an obvious suit they just put on? That would be much more fitting.

And I'll make this the last thing, I actually loved that fleshy place. I am a BIG proponent of meatbending, or whatever term you want to use, both in general but especially in a more normal, nonhorrific light. When they were sawing into the walls of that place and lifted up the removed core I was disgusted, but in an intrigued kind of way. And I was blown out of the water when they walked around inside, and not only were the nonorganic parts still cool looking and unique, but the sheer design potential of decorative flesh was extremely cool to see. I was especially interested in the fact that they shaped plants out of flesh, which was hilarious, but even things like one of the spy cameras being a giant eye, and a floating flesh blob thing leaking plasma-like goop. I LOVE that. I want more of it. Make that one yelling Spongebob meme in your head but with flesh tech or whatever, it's seriously cool and rarely done. 

Anyway that's it whatever time to get back to the stuff I actually like, like damn that new Pokemon series is kinda aiming to be pretty good ngl

[c-swirlz]

Phantom Thief of Hearts (And a Grappling Hook)

Prompt: 41) Write the fic from a different character's POV. Summary: The notorious thief Joker has a run-in with the detective chasing him down. Shenanigans ensue. Relationships: Goro Akechi/Persona 5 Protagonist Warnings: None Characters: Goro Akechi, Persona 5 Protagonist Notes: Written for @twbmccevent! This is a remix of @ranbinary's fic, of stealing hearts (and atms). [AO3 link]

Joker flies over rooftops one by one, the wind making his hair fly in all sorts of crazy directions. With pinpoint precision, he fires his grappling hook towards the edge of each new building, allowing himself to swing across the gap for a brief moment before getting the device to pull him upwards.

Glancing down at the road below as he moves, Joker spots a familiar face shoving through the crowd of people gathered there. He smiles, pausing on the roof of the building at the very end of the road, watching as the young detective rapidly closes in on his position. Sure, he could easily just fly to the next set of buildings and lose his pursuer completely, but where’s the fun in that? He instead stashes his grappling hook away and jumps down, ducking around the corner. Footsteps fast approaching, Joker leans against the wall, staring at his gloves as he attempts to look as disinterested as possible.

“Looking for me, detective?” he says, lips curling up into a smirk as Akechi rounds the corner. Glancing up, he can see the detective have to fight to keep a calm, collected expression, almost rolling his eyes before stopping himself.

“You know I am. I’ve been assigned to your case for the past month.”

A whole month? Well damn, Joker must be better at evading capture than he thought. Either that or Akechi is just a shit detective. To be honest, it could very well be a combination of the two. “And yet it took me slowing down for you to catch me.” He’s well aware that his shit-eating grin is visible even beneath the mask, which makes this infinitely funnier. “Now tell me, detective, are you here to turn me in?”

“I should be.” Joker pulls his grappling hook back out, fiddling with it while Akechi continues to speak. Honestly, it’s rather impressive he’s managed to maintain his composure for this long. Joker can’t help but respect the effort. “That depends, though. What did you do this time?”

A coin sits snug in the palm Joker’s free hand. Where it came from, he’ll never tell. When he flicks it up to his fingertips to hold between two fingers, Akechi’s slightly bewildered expression is almost enough to make him laugh. Almost.

“Oh, not much. Not much at all.”

Akechi pauses, and Joker can practically see the cogs in his brain turning at mach speed. This happens a lot. It’s become a game at this point; guessing Joker’s crime of the day. Or week. Depends on what mood he’s in. Today, though, it wasn’t anything super glamorous, just breaking into a few more ATMs. He did consider orchestrating a bank robbery, but ultimately decided that was too much effort. A good choice, he thinks.

Akechi presses a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He does it right between the eyes, too, which can’t possibly be very comfortable. “I really should turn you in right here and now.”

Joker pushes himself off the wall, meeting Akechi’s gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a fire escape protruding from the wall above them, leading up to a balcony. “Should you, now? C’mon.”

“It’s literally my job, Joker.”

Yeah, Joker’s going to take that as his cue to get a move on. He fires the grappling hook at the fire escape, watching as it makes perfect contact with the railing and loops itself around the bars. It’s the perfect escape route. He raises an eyebrow in Akechi’s direction: your move.

“I do have you right here, for once.”

Without breaking eye contact with his adversary, Joker moves a dial on his device with one hand. Very, very slowly, he starts rising up towards the fire escape.

“I could still grab you, idiot. Has anyone told you you’re an idiot recently? They should do it more.”

Joker can’t help but smile at that. “You could say that, yeah, I’ve been told that a bit.” He slides the dial just a small bit further, raising the grappling hook’s speed a tiny amount. He’s still firmly within Akechi’s reach, but the young detective makes no move to apprehend him.

“Is that going to hurt eventually?” Akechi casually lifts a hand, pointing at Joker’s grappling hook. His head tilts up slightly, and Joker realises he’s starting to struggle with maintaining consistent eye contact. “You holding up your whole weight with one arm and all.”

Oh damn, he has a point. “Yeah, probably,” Joker says. “It’s definitely distracting you this way, though.” He can tell Akechi is really tempted to call him an idiot again. He can’t blame him.

“You’re like a foot off the ground. I could grab your hand, let alone your ankle.”

Joker smirks. “But you’re not.”

“Mostly because I wanted to talk to you first,” Akechi says, sounding exasperated, “but you won’t even stay still long enough to have a proper conversation.”

Ah, Joker’s missed this. He’d forgotten how entertaining it is to wind Akechi up like this. “I will stay long enough to ask how you’re going to tell your superiors you lost me, though.” He fiddles with the dial again, increasing the speed of the grappling hook one last time, and watches as Akechi raises an eyebrow.

“As far as they’re aware, this never happened. You turned the corner on a busy street and you were gone.”

“Good.” Joker breaks eye contact with Akechi, pulling the trigger on the grappling hook. He shoots up to the balcony in an instant, backflipping before landing on his feet. He leans over the railing, crossing his arms as he peers down at the poor detective stuck on the ground below. Well, not exactly stuck — the fire escape is right there — but it’s not like he’s making a move either way.

“Hey, I’ll see you around later, detective. Another time, maybe.”

Without waiting for a response, Joker leans back from the edge, concealing himself amongst the shadows. He watches Akechi leave, chuckling quietly to himself.

His job here is done.

The TV is on when Akira returns to his apartment, playing some random show he doesn’t recognise. He makes himself a fresh cup of coffee before flopping down on the couch in front of the screen, removing his glasses and running a hand through his hair. Several minutes later, he hears the latch of the door click. Looking up, he smiles when he spots his boyfriend entering.

“Hey. How was your day?”

“I think you know perfectly well how my day was.” Akira fights back the strong urge to laugh. Akechi strides over to where Akira is sitting, planting a kiss on his cheek. Akira loudly complains about Akechi blocking the view, but doesn’t actually care all that much. It was a dumb show anyway. The smile doesn’t leave his face the entire time.

“Business as usual, then?”

“You could say that.” Akechi slides into the other room for a brief moment, and when he returns, he’s no longer holding his briefcase. Akira assumes he put it on the table with all his paperwork, because the guy clearly doesn’t know how to keep a workspace organised. When Akechi returns, he takes a seat next to Akira, leaning back against the pillows. “Nearly caught a thief. Some random guy, very annoying, quite an idiot.”

Akira chuckles. Akechi really does have some strange obsession with calling people idiots. Or maybe he just reserves that especially for the elusive thief. How kind of him. “Oh? Annoying and an idiot? Quite a combination coming from you.”

“Did I forget handsome? Would you be happier then?”

“Definitely.” Akira can feel another laugh tickling the back of his throat, so he reaches for his coffee cup and takes a long, slow sip, which thankfully keeps it at bay.

“You’re going to have to show me that grappling hook later, by the way. I want to know how it works. I assume Sakura helped you with it?”

“She did, yeah.” Akira sets his cup back down on the table, thinking back to when he had approached Futaba with the idea for the device. She was ecstatic, and she’d barely left her room while she worked on it. It came out so much better than Akira had initially thought it would. “It was mostly her this time, but it was my idea. Thought it would be funny.”

“More like exasperating,” Akechi mutters, and Akira finds he can’t hold his laughter in any longer. It drowns out the sound of the TV almost completely.

Akira couldn't ask for a better life - or a better boyfriend.

[allys-diary]

shenanigans :: ally week 2024

Hoooo boi howdy ya girl is 30 and let's be so real right now…at so many points in my life I wasn't sure if I was gonna reach this age, but also I had so many expectations of what life would look like for me once I got here and…

Let's just say it's not a perfect match 🙃 But also I honestly wouldn't trade it for anything. Instead of trying to chase a "dream" that was thrust upon me by constantly comparing my life to my parents going "Goddamn when they were my age, I already existed and I was a whole menace", I decided to set out to heal inner wounds that I didn't realize were there until I revisited those areas in my life and there were places that stung when they were touched.

But that's gonna be a story for another vent post, this is just gonna be a place to show y'all everything I've gotten up to on the days leading up to the day itself.

Everything below the cut because pictures ahead

First we kicked the week off with something very on brand that just had impeccable timing: Sanrio-themed Krispy Kreme donuts

tbh the flavor wasn't all that amazing, but it was still fun (and messy lol) to eat them…also no, I didn't finish them all by myself, I split them with my mother (I did claim the Kuromi one tho). And unlike Froot Loops that all just had the same flavor across the board, these ones actually had different flavors with every donut, so that was fun, too.

While of course I would never be so vapid enough to say that this is all happening because it's my birthday week, there was also the amazing little happenstance of one of my favorite bands releasing new music and this was the week I found out that Marianas Trench is coming out with a whole new album.

The rest of the week was honestly pretty uneventful because I spent most of it at home working and ticking off items from my onboarding list, so really at least half of my free time during this week was spent sleeping 🥴 I did go out after my shift towards the end of the week though to grab some food & coffee with my parents but that's about it.

And then once the weekend hit, my whorish ways got the better of me and I decided to 'pspspspspspsps' in cursive over on my main/more active account and suddenly Tom content was conjured into existence (thank you Paris Olympics and BBC)

I finally got my lil mitts on the chili pepper Jellycat plush, along with a lil Squishmallow HugMee

It's the lil yellow donkey. And that's probably the last Squishmallow I'm getting (because space issues) unless I find Ximena the Winking Mango (for obvious reasons)

Overall it was a pretty chill week. No tears, no annoying ghosts from the past trying to kill the vibe (well unless you count a bitch ass teacher from Junior Year, yeah I'm looking at you Jonas), and only the slightest hint of existential crisis.

Now I got a whole lotta things I wanna do before I turn 31 so…lemme just get that todo list all together 🥴

[vrankup]

Nailing E-Commerce: Your Guide to Rocking Your Online Store |vrankup|

Hey there, fellow e-commerce enthusiasts! So, you're all set to dive into the e-commerce world? Awesome choice! Our digital marketing agency in Dwarka has your back with this easy-breezy guide on running your e-commerce website like a pro. Let's keep it casual and get you rolling in just the right way!

**1. Picking the Perfect Platform:**

Okay, first things first – platform time! You need a cozy home for your online shop. Look for stuff like smooth payments and SEO tools.

**2. Design Delights:**

Your shop's style matters, big time! Make it look snazzy and match your vibe. Simple navigation is the name of the game. Use snazzy pics of your products and keep a color scheme that's on point.

**3. Rockstar Product Descriptions:**

Time to make your products shine! Write descriptions that pop. Tell people what's amazing about your stuff – the features, the benefits, the whole deal. And hey, cover things like size and details so they know exactly what they're getting.

**4. No-Nonsense Navigation:**

Your shop's gotta be a breeze to stroll through. Keep it super easy for visitors to find stuff. Divide your goodies into categories and subcategories. And hey, a search bar is like your secret weapon – makes finding stuff a piece of cake.

**5. Checkout Groove:**

You don't want peeps ditching their carts, right? Keep the checkout smooth as silk. Only ask for what you really need. Throw in guest checkout and different payment choices for extra awesomeness.

**6. Tight Security:**

Lock it down! Your customers need to feel safe. Get solid payment gateways like PayPal and Stripe. Show off trust badges – they're like your shop's bodyguards against online shenanigans.

**7. Mobile Magic:**

Heads up, everyone's on their phones these days. Make sure your shop looks like a million bucks on mobiles and tablets. Mobile-responsive is the name of the game.

**8. SEO Wizardry:**

Time for a little wizardry – SEO style! Sprinkle those magical keywords all over your product pages and blog. Update your meta stuff and image tags too. That way, you'll show up higher in search results. Bam!

**9. Review Power:**

Reviews are like gold dust. They build trust, baby! Ask your happy customers to leave reviews. Display them proudly. And don't worry if there's a not-so-happy one – just tackle it pro-style.

**10. Marketing Mojo:**

Time to spread the word! Hit up social media, send out emails, create killer content, and even try some online ads. The more marketing magic, the better.

**11. TLC for Your Shop:**

Give your shop some love. Keep it fresh by adding new stuff and updating the deets. And don't slack on the security stuff – keep everything updated and tight.

**12. Customer Charm:**

Give your customers the VIP treatment. Make their experience unforgettable.

**13. Data Discovery:**

This data is pure gold for making things even better.

**14. Sky's the Limit:**

As your shop gets bigger and cooler, you might need some fancy features. Think about automation, personalized suggestions, and loyalty programs. The sky's the limit!

**15. Stay in the Loop:**

Remember, the e-commerce world's always spinning. Keep up with trends, new tech, and what your customers are digging. Stay in the loop, and you'll stay ahead.

In a nutshell, owning an e-commerce website is like jamming in a band – a mix of creativity, tech, and customer love. From picking the right platform to creating killer content, you're on your way to e-commerce stardom. So go on, rock that online shop, and watch the magic happen!

Catch you later,

Digital marketing agency in Dwarka | Digital marketing company in Dwarka,vrankup

[meat-pvppet]

actually you know what? im telling you guys about the old concept the story had

or atleast what i had when i was trying to adjust the story to be told through a game format

i will say first that like

this old concept does NOT reflect AT ALL what i will have now but the other characters involved will probably be part of the new story

anyway hi

basically we start with lucius and a set of twins he was friends with ever since highschool or something

lets call them shade and specter pim cuz those were their names like 8 years ago yes these are older ocs than lucius

anyway lucius and the pim twins were rather close back in the day and grew up to work together, with the twins being cops and lucius working with the police cuz they needed his tech

some shenanigans happen and oopsie! lucius gets into his accident and it changes the trajectory of his life forever

he starts pushing the twins away and becomes more of a recluse while the twins try to figure out exactly what happened to him because its simply too uncharacteristic for an accident of that scale to happen unless some kind of foul play was going on

as the twins dig, they find something out thats gets too close and they both mysteriously get into accidents of their own

one survives with major injuries and the other doesnt

cue the alive twin waking up to lucius hovering over them

nifty, they get a brand spankin new prosthetic from their ol' pal! they arent happy about it though

start asking about their twin

lucius assures them that theyre fine and that "it took me a while to perfect the program, but i knew itd fuck you up real bad if they werent here anymore"

"perfect the program"? what did he mean by that

holy shit! they get a whole robotic copy of their dead twin now! not fun!

they get angry at lucius for this

most violent friendship divorce

but they still take in the robot of their twin

why? even they dont know

the robot sickens them

but i guess they cant quite let go

anyway now we're in the robots pov!

they have no memory of the accident

they just know that something went wrong and, somehow some way, lucius has something to do with it cuz now their twin seemingly hates them AND lucius, and lucius has been cooped up in his factory for years

so they decide to confront lucius

and after some hijinks in the factory that vaguely resembles a metroidvania, they reach his office

concerningly easily

isnt his factory supposed to be high security? why can they just waltz in as they please?

lucius doesnt seem pleased about them coming to him, but he seems more tired than angry

"Ah, youre back again"

again?

"Whatever, ill send you back to your sibling...I do hope you can learn to...forget...this time"

time loop plot basically but you just keep getting your memory about being concerned about lucius zapped so you hopefully dont come back but you still do! who knows how long this has been going on!

anyway yeah mid story but its good to throw it all up here

Do you perhaps have a main post where you put all of your Oc lore? Cause the designs really captured my attention....I wanna know more about the funky droids....

firstly, face you dont understand how loudly i went "IM BEING ASKED ABOUT MY OCS!!!" to my dormmate

secondly, for lucius and his whole mess? no, not yet

mostly cuz its not done cooking in my cranium even though ive been working on this for like 3-ish years (i NEED to expel the bunny from my skull)

but! most of my ocs can be found on my toyhouse where i usually have their backstories and personalities written down

mostly my fan ocs though because those are easier to write cuz the worlds already built and i sadly purged most of my completely original ocs

just know the story that lucius is involved in is still in its foundational baby stages and lucius himself is one of the only characters (if not the only cuz im still thinking about how ill rehash everything) i have thats semi presentable to the public (ironically enough)

[lazuli-bloom]

A lot of the Majora’s Mask artwork has heavy shadows and I wanted to try something like that out. Also wanted to draw Floofty seeing the Snak Monster Journalist for the first time, which didn’t go the best

[fragilecapric0rnn]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

omg this is so fun!!! thank you for sending this to me lex!

In no particular order:

Catch Me (I'm Falling) AKA the 2000s cheerleader AU

I know it's not finished yet, but I already love this damn fic SO MUCH. I really just love writing rom-coms and nostalgic call-backs and just Steve as a college cheerleader is probably the best thing my brain has come up with ever. Can't wait to finish this fic and then expand on this universe because BOY do I got PLANS!

i wanna tell you and now's the time 

THE stobin fic! It was just so fun to write and I love them. They're idiot soulmates who share a braincell. My babies!!!

you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost 

OR missed connections fic, which is how I usually refer to this one on here. This fic was my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic since I was in high school and I'll always be SO proud of it! Taking one of my favorite types of media (rom-coms), setting it in one of my favorite places on the planet (SF Bay Area) and placing my blorbos in this world was just SO FUN!!!

1990. Christmas Eve

Part one in particular is one of my favorite things I've written! And listen. I know I left this one unfinished but it's FINE! This fic really helped me figure out Eddie's voice/perspective (which is something I'm still working on tbh) and like. I also just love that this is a perfect example of how my brain works when it comes to figuring out plots to fics, and how random shit will just come to me?? IDK! I just really liked part one of this fic!

the circus music playing on loop in my mind is being overpowered by the disco from the next room over AKA disco nights fic

The fic that brought me out of retirement!! I'm kinda obsessed with how this fic is just a marker of how much progress I've made as a writer since August. It's a lil rough and awk but it's so full of love and excitement and shenanigans. Idk, it'll always just be special to me! <33

[a-concert-just-for-me]

I still need to answer @iamnotademigodkiller’s Berdly ask but rn brain tired

So, here’s a free sample. (Uh. This was supposed to be a haha funny quick 2 sentence scenario, but I did not account for the fact that I am physically incapable of writing less than one million words. This two sentence scenario very much turned into something else entirely. It’s a whole gd meal.)

Let’s start over. Here is a random Berdly and Kris short story synopsis to tide you over.

During the Summer, Kris has access to the empty school via Toriel, who is usually busy in her office preparing materials for the next year. This leaves Kris to their own devices. Further, this obviously means they have the perfect opportunity to mess around with stuff at school without getting caught. They must take advantage of this!

Somehow, they rope Berdly into their shenanigans. The plan is simple. Berdly and Kris will compete with each other to see who can make the longest, most ridiculous Rube Goldberg machine in the hallway (without catching the attention of Toriel). Her office is near the back of the school, so it should be easy enough. Whoever wins gets bragging rights!

An hour later and Berdly’s contraption has gotten so long that he has to figure out a way to wrap it back around the hallway without disturbing the pieces he’s already placed. Not thinking, his solution is to snake it through the unused classroom and have it pop back out to the hallway through the opened closet. This will allow it to loop back around to the hallway with plenty of room. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he calls Kris over from their own project to observe his genius chain reaction. Kris doesn’t even have time to remind Berdly of the potential consequences of his machine before he’s already setting it off.

As you may have predicted, this machine uh. causes unintentional chaos in Castle Town. Ralsei gets flattened by a falling domino. Rouxls nearly gets taken out by a flying marble. Lancer rides on a stray bouncy ball like it’s a free bull ride. Queen does a quick Google search to see if the weather forecast calls for more rapidly falling objects from the sky over the next few days (The answer is no and Queen is slightly disappointed). No other subjects are harmed, but they are terrified of the chaos. Ralsei unpins himself from the domino and begins the difficult process of damage control. It takes forever to calm everyone down.

Back in the light world, there’s moment of silence after the chain reaction ends. Berdly crosses his arms and gives Kris a smug grin. Kris just stares at him, their expression somehow part shocked, part worried, and part oh my god you’re a dumbass. It takes him a full minute to realize his mistake after some prompting, but when he does, he grabs Kris by the arm and rushes towards the closet. They have to meticulously clean up all of the materials and toss them back out into the hallway. As soon as they finish, Kris activates the fountain.

The lecture he receives from Rouxls and Ralsei upon his arrival to Castle Town is well-deserved. Berdly does not get to indulge in any of his aforementioned bragging rights, because any mention of The Incident is met with death glares and theatrical threats of imprisonment from both of them.

Queen and Lancer thought the calamity was funny, though. Queen says he should do it again.

[alittleimagine]

just a favor- prologue

derek hale x reader

derek would love if his family would stop hounding him about dating again after he’s unceremoniously dumped. he doesn’t mean to lie to his sister about a girlfriend that doesn’t exist, but it’s too late to take it back now. 

“Have you considered just telling Laura the truth?”

“He can’t tell them the truth now.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they’ll freak out about him being a big sad-sack who hasn’t gotten over being dumped half a year ago.”

“Hey!” Derek cut in. He had been content to let Scott and Stiles argue back and forth for the last few minutes, but he drew the line at being called a sad-sack. 

Stiles didn’t even look sorry. “I’m not saying you are a sad-sack, I’m saying that’s what they think.” He said.

“That doesn’t help as much as you think it does.”

Scott snorted to himself. 

Stiles was not deterred. “What we need to do is just find you a date. Erica would probably be down to go.” He said. 

Derek sighed, deep and dramatic. “Laura knows Erica is dating Boyd. Just like she knows Allison is with Scott, and Lydia is with Jordan. Malia is obviously bringing Kira to Thanksgiving. She knows all of you.” He’d already given this a great deal of thought. 

And he was screwed.

“Melissa?” 

“Hey!” Scott shot a betrayed look at Stiles. “Leave my mom out of this.” 

Stiles flailed, his arms flapping in Derek’s general direction. “I am just trying to help the sad-sack!”

“Hey!” 

Derek grabbed the nearest pillow from Stiles’s bed and chucked it at him. Years of bench-warming on the lacrosse team had not served Stiles well and the pillow hit him full force in the face, sending him tumbling backward into his desk. 

When he’d regained his balance he threw the pillow back at Derek who caught it without a problem and set it back on the bed looking not a little smug. 

Stiles didn’t seem to notice or care for Derek’s obvious physical superiority because he was snapping his fingers rapidly. Both Derek and Scott recognized what the gesture meant- there was a thought trying to make its way out.

“I’ve got it!” He said. There was a mildly manic look in his eyes. “I know the perfect person for the job. She loves these kind of shenanigans. I bet she’s a good liar, she looks like she’d be a good liar. But I don’t know if she’ll have the days off. That could be a problem.”

With every second Stiles kept arguing with himself rather than name the person he was talking about Derek could feel his tolerance slipping. He gave him an annoyed impatient look, but Stiles was too far gone in his own head to even notice. 

Scott, who had been trying so hard not to look too amused, bit his lip to keep from laughing at Derek’s frustration. 

“Stiles,” Derek said in a warning tone, “if you don’t just spit it out-”

“Y/N!” 

“Yes?”

The three of them jumped at the voice from the door. 

And there was Y/N herself. She looked like she’d been there a while, enough time at least to make herself comfortable against the door frame, a men’s dress shirt on a hanger looped casually in her hands. If she wasn’t amused before she’d scared them, she certainly was now. 

“What are you doing in my house?” Stiles squawked. “How did you get in?”

She rolled her eyes and stood up straight to dig in through the leather backpack slung on her shoulder, finding and jingling a key ring at them. “I had to pick up a shirt for your dad’s hot date tonight.” The waggle of her eyebrows was 100% intentional and successful if Stiles’s quiet “yuck” was anything to go by. “He gave me a key months ago.” 

“Of course he did.” Stiles didn’t even sound surprised. 

When Y/N had moved to Beacon Hills a little under a year ago she’d known no one in town and had described the move as an impulse brought on by a typo on a job search site. She’d been looking for jobs in Sacramento, but the zip code she’d entered was just one digit off. Instead, she’d been shown jobs in Beacon Hills, but most especially had been a listing for a Receptionist/Admin Assistant at the Sheriff’s department. 

Sheriff Stilinski had interviewed her and Kira had helped her find an apartment upon the Sheriff’s recommendation, but when she moved to town they were the only two people she knew. 

It hadn’t taken her long to settle in. Through work she’d become fast friends with Jordan and Boyd, which led to meeting Lydia and Erica. Through Kira she’d met Malia and then Allison and rounding back to Lydia.

Which was when Derek had met her. 

He’d been dating Jennifer at the time and there’d been a part of him that was concerned when he spotted the girls plus one Y/N having dinner at the local diner and he realized they had never in the past invited Jennifer to do so. In retrospect it was obvious they saw something in Jennifer that he hadn’t and they’d been right to exclude her. 

Jennifer hadn’t been too fond of her.

Derek had never spent much time with Y/N though, and it was always in the company of their other friends, but he considered her a friend- or friend adjacent. He enjoyed the way she messed with Stiles most of all. 

“It’s not my fault I’m your dad’s favorite person.” Y/N said, a teasing smile on her face. It was no secret that torturing Stiles was one of her top favorite things to do. 

But, however much teasing she had planned was not going to stop Stiles. He had a determined look in his eyes that usually spelled trouble for Derek and Scott. The look Scott sent Derek told him he’d had the same thought.

“You should date Derek.” Stiles said without preamble. 

Derek couldn’t recall ever having seen Y/N look so surprised. She turned away from Stiles to look at him and he could feel his ears start to turn pink. He was going to kill Stiles.

Her eyebrows were still high on her forehead when the look became less shock and more amusement.  

“I think if I’m going to go out with Derek he’s going to have to ask me himself.” She said like they were discussing the weather and not Stiles pimping him out. Or pimping her out. Derek wasn’t sure which.

“It’s not like that.” Derek rushed out. 

“So you don’t want to go out with me?”

Derek was going to kill Stiles. 

“Just for Thanksgiving.” Stiles said.

Y/N had a wicked gleam in her eye. It made Derek shift in his seat. 

“You want me to go out with Derek just on Thanksgiving,” she said, slow and deliberate, “and it’s ‘not like that’.” She made air quotes with her fingers. “So you want me to fake date you for, I assume, family reasons?”

It should have worried Derek that she’d put it together as quickly and gleefully as she had. The burning pink of his ears and neck should have worried him. Every part of this half-baked plan should have sent him spiraling into a panic. 

He gulped and nodded. “Yes. Please.”

The seconds before she spoke again seemed to stretch and stretch. She was watching him intently. 

At last she shrugged. “I can do that.” She said. “I have to get back to the station, but I’ll text you so we can plan. We have a lot to do in the next week.”

And just like that she flashed them a peace sign and left the doorway, calling a bye behind her. 

“I can’t believe that just worked.” Scott said.

Derek had to clear his throat before he spoke. “What did she mean by plan?”

[hollypunkers]

I love your groundhog day au for zukka! What type of shenanigans will zuko and sokka do after zuko stops trying to capture aang with the time loop? It be fun if they do some really hilarious stuff. Also post loop gaang reactions to zukka after everything would've be hilarious. The only thing that breaks the time loop is zuko relization that the fire nation and his father is wrong and he needs to join the gaang

once they finally team up for schenanigans? endless possibilities, i mean, just for the sake of it Zhao has to be somewhere involved so at some point they can come up with an optimized plan to ruin his day in every way (embarrass him in front of superiors, knock him into a pile of poo, sink his ship, convince his sailors to throw him a birthday party, etc.) and Sokka definitely wants fun prank revenge on Katara and I think at some point Zuko would agree to help... and then get encased in ice again and be stuck while Sokka tries to explain ‘It’s a prank! Yea, Zuko is in on it- no, this all makes sense I swear-!’

I think they’d also both have a secret agenda the whole time to convert the other to their way of thinking, Sokka making sure Zuko gets to know him, Katara, and Aang, which only makes Zuko want to convince Sokka to have the others peacefully surrender to the Fire Nation. It gets awkward after awhile, they both start doing their own thing, Sokka attempting to find the spirit who cursed them into this and release them from the loop and Zuko determined to get his first (and only) kiss in with a boy.

In my head at the moment, Sokka eventually catches wind of what Zuko is doing (using the time loop to gather information about some nice Earth Kingdom boy to get a ‘perfect meet-cute’) and chastized him about the moral implications of doing that. Its one thing to use the time loop for a light hearted prank and another to manipulate someone for a kiss they wouldn’t even remember. Zuko goes back to the ship, Sokka starts ruminating on it all, and eventually starts feeling bad for Zuko and thinks, well, if he wanted to kiss a boy that badly there really is only Sokka.

Sokka gets up for that day of the time loop, sets in motion the daily Zhao tormenting pranks, then ‘surrenders’ at Zuko’s ship to talk to him about it. (It doesnt count as an actual surrender if the day resets.) Aang and Katara, confused, come with, as Sokka marches onto Zuko’s ship and kisses him. It would be impossible to explain, which neither of them bother to because... there’s always the next loop, right?

[jones-friend]

Commander Legends Top 3

I wanted to draft up a top 3 commanders of commander legends now that the dust had settled, but I had a hard time picking between multicolor commanders and mono color partners. So! I’ve decided to pick 3 of each!

In picking my top 3 of each I looked for usefulness as well as new twists on colors. What is interesting but also is solid enough to make a deck for?

Lathiel “closes the loop” for selesnya lifegain. Iridescent Hornbeetle, Pollenbright Wings, Soul Warden, cradle of vitality, archangel of thune, there’s a lot of combinations of lifegain that make Lathiel a perfect conduit for life and power. With lifelinkers you have whats very nearly a kalonian hydra in the command zone.

Ghen fits into the “twist on established colors” category who got a serious boost with Kaldheim. Why? Sagas. Sagas are what motivate you to sac and recur your enchantments and rotate them. Liliana’s Mastery and the like create tokens on etb letting you amass a field through enchantment weaving and sacrifice. Its also worth pointing out Ghen works at instant speed, you can slam curses down in response to relevant plays.

Araumi is one I’ve revisited after Quandrix’s token shenanigans. This commander has proven to to be a wild take on self mill and as a small drop is easy to repeatedly bring out over the course of a game. Encore hits ETB, attack, and death triggers. So much is available to you. Sharding Sphinx comes out and each of the three sphinxes trigger three times for 12 damage and 9 1/1 thopter tokens, and that’s the tame side of Araumi. Imagine three Massacre Wurms etbing for -6/-6 yo your opponents creatures each death triggering a loss of 6 life.

Post commander legends Tevesh Szat continues to pop up in builds. Turns out, being able to make two disposable creatures and altar’s reap on a stick are incredibly good in black relevant decks. Ayara, Korvold, Kydele, you don’t even need to hit ult for Tevesh to be good.

Tormod makes such an intriguing take. Each instance of one or more cards leaving your gy makes a zombie. Reanimation, flashback, recursion, exile, all make a zombie. That means if you recur gravecrawler and get prized amalgam eot you get two 2/2 zombies that gain all the anthems your field provides. As a partner commander you can add up to two more colors of zombie support to make it work.

Krark is one of my favorites because of how you can “trick” the system. Double Vision triggers on cast, so you can always get one copy per cast. The coinflip decides if you get 3 casts or get to cast it again. Eligeth, Vial Smasher, Sakashima, there’s a lot of ways to spin Krark in ways to make either side of the coin work in your favor, and all at two mana.

These are 6 of my own favorites of the set. I’d love to hear what yours are, or if you’ve built decks for any commander legends commanders!

[alexiethymia]

JSHK Questions and Answers

Since I love lists, and I want to organize these for future reference, this is my compilation of the questions I still have as of the most recent chapter, and attempts to answer them with theories and headcanons with no bases whatsoever. So, let us begin!

1.) How does a human become a supernatural? 

Among the Seven Mysteries, only Hanako and Akane-kun were or are humans. Shijima isn’t the original Shijima Mei, and the current Mitsuba was created from the original Mitsuba. Is there a difference between a human becoming a simple supernatural or becoming a School Mystery? Are humans who died and become ghosts, like original Mitsuba, considered Supernaturals? Is Sakura one such human-turned-ghost-turned supernatural? 

For Amane and Mitsuba, we know how they became spirits. They had lingering regrets, which is confirmed by Kou when he said he’d help Mitsuba with his unfinished business so that he could pass on. So what Kou was talking about in the most recent chapter is probably not that. 

Going back to Akane-kun and Hanako. How did Akane-kun become a supernatural? It was through a deal to save Aoi’s life, albeit he was tricked into it. 

Did something of that sort happen to Amane and Tsukasa perhaps? Did Amane make a wish, was tricked, and somehow as a consequence end up killing Tsukasa as some sort of exchange? Because for some reason, among a time lord, a spider that has a library full of knowledge, and the GOD OF DEATH, it’s Hanako-kun who’s the leader of the School Mysteries. Something big must have been exchanged for that. 

Perhaps Tsukasa heard a rumor that one way he and Amane could stay together forever was to become Supernaturals, with one being the other’s yorishiro and for this reason he wanted to kill Amane, except it happened the other way around. Admittedly, this is a bit farfetched. 

2. Who does Teru actually like?

This was established from the very first chapter, so i believe it’s an important plot point.

Sakura: My first guess, again despite having no basis at all, is Sakura. But Sakura already has Natsuhiko so hmmm....

Mei: Yes, this is a bit weird. The only thing I have to go on is that one picture of Teru with Mei and Shijima in Monster Nursery. Teru could have been a kid who had a crush on high school student Mei before she died. 

Aoi: Recent chapters would point to that. It seems so obvious as to be a red herring, but what if that is what makes it surprising enough to be true? I always thought Teru ‘liking’ Aoi was a way to troll Akane just as how Teru lords over Nene’s crush on him to Hanako (man in other circumstances, Akane-kun and Hanako-kun would get along soooo well), but he never said he liked Nene in a joking way, like he did with Aoi. 

If the Teru-Aoi-Akane triangle is suppose to parallel the Kou-Nene-Hanako triangle, then it checks out if both Teru and Akane have a crush on Aoi. I do see them as being kindred spirits. Both are set up on a pedestal despite no one actually knowing their true selves. Everyone thinks they’re so perfect and nice, but both have pretty twisted characters. I mean Akane is also a ‘nice guy’ but everyone knows about his yandere tendencies, and he’s pretty free about what he thinks. On top of that, there’s also the shady business going on in the Minamoto and Akane families. 

Akane: BUT THEN, what if Akane is the Nene in their triangle. Admittedly, a lot of Teru’s actions could be interpreted as him teasing the boy he likes who’s already in love with someone else. IT CHECKS OUT.

Akane and Aoi: Or you know he could have a crush on the both of them. This is just headcanon after all. 

3.What on earth is Natsuhiko’s deal?

I swear he’s like the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Always beware the fool. I have this weird headcanon that he belongs to a family that’s also spiritually inclined like the Minamotos and the Akanes. Who knows, what if both Sakura and Tsukasa are dead supernaturals and Natsuhiko is their link to the living world?

Someone pointed out how the room with the mirror and the toys could be Hanako’s boundary. Besides the fact that we didn’t see any water, I would say that that is one brilliant observation! I could easily believe that. With what we know now about Sumire and from what Tsukasa said about not seeing Hanako for ten to twenty years, Hanako probably left Tsukasa, his yorishiro, in his boundary and never went to see him. The implications are horrifying. As we saw with Sumire, she kept relieving her death. That’s bad enough with No. 6 letting her die. But based on what we know, unless something else gets revealed, Amane was the one to kill Tsukasa. And he left Tsukasa in the boundary for ten to twenty years to relieve that? If true, I really will have to reevaluate my whole opinion about Hanako. 

I think based on what we saw, if that really is their boundary, it may be a replica of the twin’s room, what with all those toys, and by the time we arrive at that point when we’ll see Hanako’s boundary, I think that’s where the key Nene picked up from Amane in the past will play a part. Is that the key to their house? The twin’s bedroom? Perhaps a secret tree house? There must have been a repercussion as well with Nene picking up that key from the past, because if it’s with her now, then it wasn’t with Amane in the past, and that may have changed something.

If that’s true, then it was Sakura and Natsuhiko who broke Tsukasa out. Again it gives credence to the Sakura-is-already-dead theory, because Tsukasa grants the wishes of the dead, so perhaps there was a wish that Sakura had to have granted no matter what, enough to bind herself to Tsukasa, like how Nene did with Hanako.

(A bit of a sideline, LISTEN I STILL HAVE HOPE FOR A HAPPY ENDING OK. Kamisama Hajimemashita also had time travel shenanigans. and it looked like the protagonist would die, but all of those time travel shenanigans were necessary for them to earn their happy ending. Time isn’t a straight line after all. It’s more like a loop or a circle. What will happen has already happened.) 

4. Why are Tsukasa and Sumire the only human yorishiros?

Although Tsukasa as a yorishiro is not yet confirmed, I still have to wonder why. All of the supernaturals had or have strong ties to a living human. No. 1 has Akane-kun, Yako had Misaki, Mitsuba has Kou, Shijima had Mei, and Tsuchigomori had Amane. We don’t know what No. 1 and Mitsuba’s yorishiro are, but for the other three, the yorishiros they have are in relation to their precious humans. 

I can’t imagine that Yako loved Misaki less than No. 6 or Hanako (presumably) loved Sumire, or Tsukasa, and yet Misaki isn’t Yako’s yorishiro nor is Mei, Shijima’s yorishiro, and I have to wonder why.

Is it because Misaki and Mei had already passed on peacefully, while in contrast Tsukasa and Sumire wanted to stay by Hanako and No. 6′s side, which translated to them being bound as yorishiro? 

It’s stated in the story that yorishiro are the things most precious to a Mystery, but it also makes me think that yorishiros are the things or people that the Mysteries have the most regret about. 

5. Why is Akane-kun affected by supernatural events?

Akane-kun has stronger ties to Supernaturals, being a Supernatural himself, unlike Nene who’s just an assistant to one. 

So why did he forget about Aoi when Yako kidnapped her the first time around, yet Kou and Nene were unaffected, and why did the confession tree have an effect on him?

Maybe, because except for the deal with No. 1, for all intents and purposes he’s just a normal human being? 

But this time around, he doesn’t forget about Aoi. Maybe because he was too involved this time so his memories couldn’t be so easily erased.

But admittedly, it may just have been a story telling choice so the readers wouldn’t know Akane had anything to do with supernaturals.

6. Why was Nene chosen as the kannagi?

This was a question I had all throughout the arc, and it still wasn’t answered. Normally you’d think that Nene became the kannagi the moment she made a wish to Hanako but Hanako later says that he had nothing to do with her short fate. So if Nene had never met Hanako in the first place, would she have been doomed to die for completely mundane reasons?

BUT THEN when she read her book at the Bookstacks, if I’m not remembering incorrectly, her first disastrous date was in college, but Mirai says in the Clock Keepers arc that she had less than a year to live, which means she’s supposed to die in high school. Why this discrepancy? Could Hanako have been lying? Did her lifespan shorten after making a wish to Hanako thereafter becoming the kannagi i.e. Hanako’s assistant? But again only those who were already near to death could have made a wish to Hanako so maybe since they were already doomed to die anyway, making a wish to Hanako and becoming his assistant was just the prerequisite to being the kannagi. Except in this case, Hanako wanted to change her fate. Perhaps opening a person’s book changes their fate. Nene’s book was read, Amane’s book was read by Tsuchigomori, but again no in-story event would support this. 

Sumire identifies Nene as the kannagi, but No. 6 passes her by and identified Aoi as the kannagi, so again why this discrepancy? Perhaps someone in the past put a stop to the practice of sacrificing Akane girls (the Minamoto family perhaps?), but an Akane girl would always go to Kamome as a sort of back-up just in case.

Hanako was clearly lying when he said no human sacrifices happened during his time. What if there was a Hanako-san before our Hanako-kun? What if either Amane or Tsukasa made a wish to that Hanako-san, and as a result one of them became the kannagi or human sacrifice?  

7. Why is No. 1 so important? 

Kako is just sus af. Out of all the supernaturals, No. 1 always seemed the most powerful to me, which makes me wonder why Hanako is the leader of the Seven Mysteries. I mean when he called a meeting, only Tsuchigomori and Yako came, but when Kako presided over the meeting, all the supernaturals were there, except No.6. It was like Kako was the judge while Hanako was the defendant. 

Time is an amazing power, even if it’s only in the school. Theoretically, if only within the school, doesn’t Kako have the power to reverse time going back to when Amane’s time when he was still a student there? Or does Kako have the power to transport people to the past while in the school?

Similarly, is stopping time for fifteen minutes the extent of Akane-kun’s powers as the Clock Keeper of the present, or is there something more to it? Why is it necessary for a living human to be the Clock Keeper of the present anyway? Akane-kun once said he was forced to clean the clock where they kept Mirai imprisoned so Akane must know the location of No. 1′s boundary and yorishiro.

Teru said it was important for them to get to the Clock Keepers. Would something happen if all of the Clock Keepers combined their powers (like some super sentai)?

And let us not forget, Shijima’s hint about Nene’s lifespan lies with No. 1, specifically with Akane. (Speaking of Shijima, what on earth was the price Tsukasa exacted for her wish?)

Who knows? Perhaps the key to solving Nene’s lifespan problem without sacrificing Aoi lies with No.1 and No. 6 as the mysteries who have dominion over time, life and death. 

Seven questions for seven mysteries.