#what wacky shenanigans will come of this?

[epicfeather]

Well thats not how you go ghost

[secondhand-sonder]

The back of Discworld novels: wowee terry's whipped another wacky and wild adventure for us this time! there's so many silly shenanigans and witty wordplay in this book that you're sure to have a hilarious time!

Discword novels: a cynical alcoholic navigating and overcoming the pointlessness of his job, a transparent metaphor for racism and gun violence in the police system and in general, an intelligent young girl overcoming the ideas she's been taught by her culture and the media she consumes, just an entire novel made of commentary on war and gender, using talking animals as a way to explore what defines personhood and contrasting stories vs reality, an ex-convict coming to terms with the damage he's caused and fighting monopolies that are trying to do the same thing,

[jamil-s-wifey]

Headcanon request of how the dorm leaders (with kalim replaced w/ jamil if possible) would react to their crush accidentally taking a love potion and acting extra affectionate to them?

Oh I love this so much! There are a few hcs out there about similar situations and they're ALWAYS my favourite to read! I'm so glad I finally got to write some on my own! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: slightly suggestive at times.

P.s. the love potion doubles as a truth potion. You'll see what I mean! I've left off on a somewhat open ending, so do tell if you'd like a p2!

Of course you were going to be partners with Ace of all people in Potions. The almost apologetic look, which professor Crewel sent you wasn't really helping you feel any less like a martyr. Any less... patronised. But what were you to do, rather than accept your fate gracefully and see where that takes you.

The potion, which was to be made was a truth potion. It was simple, really. Few ingredients, fewer steps. And it looked exactly like in the picture, only a little less orange and a little more pink. But that was normal, right?

Only it wasn't a truth potion. And Ace decided to put it in a water bottle. The same water bottle as yours. Why? To hide the fact that it was slightly pinker, than orange. Did Crewel buy it? No. But you? You did. One misplaced bottle, an unsuspecting MC and a series of unfortunate events.

When did your juice taste so unbelievably sweet?

"Oh no..."

Riddle was perfectly unsuspecting, going about his day, preparing for an unbirthday party, when he saw Ace practically dragging you to him. The moment you laid eyes on Riddle, a dopey smile appeared on your face.

He is confused ™️. You slipped Ace's grip and threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off him. "Riddle, the love of my life, I missed you so much, my heart can't beat when you're not around me."

Riddle's face turned 50 shades of red at that exact moment. He turned to Ace for an explanation, feeling embarrassment stir in his heart. And why did you sound like Rook?!

"LOVE POTION. WILL WEAR OUT, BYE " Aaaaand he was gone. Riddle was about to yell after him, when you grabbed his face, looking deep into his eyes. "Riddle, you're so pretty today."

His heart skipped a beat. In fact, it skipped a few too many beats. "Prefect, please. You're under the influence of a potion." He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself.

"But the potion only shows my true feelings for you! I've always loved you!" You smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair.

"T-then... Let's speak about this after the potion wears off, okay?" He asked, reluctantly patting you on the shoulder. (Smooth. V smooth.) "Fine, but only if you stay with me. I want to spend time with you!"

"I will. Until you recover and then some."

He could hear your footsteps, approaching his napping spot in the botanical gardens, so he already knew you were coming before you called out to him. "Leona!" And there it was, your sing-song voice, much cheerier than usual.

He lazily opened one eye as to acknowledge your existence. He expected you to sit down and tell him of whatever wacky shenanigans you'd got into. What he didn't expect was for you to climb into his lap, smothering him in a hug. Was he flustered? Yes. Was he about to show it? Hell no.

"Damn, what has gotten into you today, herbivore? You're unusually... annoying."

No. No, do not give him the puppy eyes, he can't take it. Oh god. "I just wanted to come see you! Mmm, you smell so good." You whispered, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. The whole position you two were in was quite...the sight. A growl escaped him, before he pushed you back, to look you in the eyes. Were your pupils... Hearts?!

"What the fuck has happened to you? Did you ingest something you shouldn't?" Now that he thought about it, your breath did smell sweeter, no, all of you smelled sweeter. He was perceptive, terrifyingly so. In fact he was pretty sure a love potion was responsible for your actions. You seemed drunk (off of him).

"Fuck, get off, we gotta go to the infirmary, or better yet - to Crewel, to brew an antidote.

"But- maybe I like being like this. At least I'm bold enough to show you how much I love you like this!"

....wait what?

He was about to have a very long chat with you once all of this was resolved.

Azul was finishing up the preparation for a new FRESH BATCH of contracts, when a knock on the door interrupted him. In came Jade, followed by you - a very giddy-looking you.

"My apologies, they insisted they had to see you." With those words, Jade left the vicinity, knowing fully well what was about to go down (because of course the fucker knew you weren't being fully yourself. He was also acutely aware of Azul's growing infatuation with you.)

"Azul, I come with a proposition. Let's form a relationship contract, where we both get all benefits of being a couple!" You moved behind his desk, grabbing his hand. "It's a limited time offer. Sealed with a kiss!"

Azul was: Flustered. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Floored. Gone. Out of the stratosphere. He was torn between running away to his octopot and smootly answering by presenting a contract, ready-made for the occasion. (Which he totally had.)

"M-MC. This is rather sudden of you-" he started, fixing his glasses. "I did not expect...such a proposition." Not that he would complain.

You moved closer to him, wrapping your other arm around his neck. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?" Those eyes of yours were piercing through his very heart, unnaturally so... Suspiciously unnaturally.

"MC, if you may, could you perhaps wait until I've... finished writing down the logistics of such a contract?"

Your smile widened and he swore he felt Cupid's arrow pierce through him. "Of course, for you I'd wait a lifetime, my handsome octopus~"

You were never THIS bold with him. He had to investigate further.

Jamil had just finished basketball practice, when he bumped into you. Or more so, you bumped into him. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, bringing him down to leave a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, Jamil~ Fancy seeing you here."

What in the Sevens' name-

He felt blood rush to his face at an alarming rate. Looking away, he pushed you back to create some distance between you two. "What has gotten into you?!" He asked, exasperated, still keeping you at arm's length. He was NOT prepared for his crush doing that out of nowhere.

"I'm just greeting you, silly! I passed by the gym, figured I'd say hi~"

"Okay. Hi. What do you want? You can't just...go around doing that." He did not have time to deal with whatever this is, he figured it was most probably a prank of some kind.

"What makes you think I go around kissing people. I only want to kiss you!" You smiled at him so lovingly, he could barely keep his knees from buckling. This was quickly becoming very overwhelming for him.

"Where is...all of this coming from, exactly? Are you fever-striken or something?" He lay a hand on your forehead, y'know, just checking.

"It's not a fever, Jamil. I'm just reaaaaally into you!"

"Stop joking around about this."

"I'm serious!" You grabbed his hand, laying it over your heart. His eyes narrowed. It's not like he didn't believe you, but this was far too sudden and you seemed far too..out of it of sorts. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He considered cornering Ace after taking you home. He already seemed pretty fidgety during practice.

"Okay. Look. Let's talk about this over coffee tomorrow, alright? My treat."

"Oooh, so a date, then?"

"Yes... a date. Now let me walk you back to Ramshackle."

The moment you saw Ace's horrified expression, you knew there was only one person you could turn to - Vil. He could surely help brew an antidote. As fast as possible you made your way to Pomefiore, worried about what the potion might do to you. However, the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt your own emotions overwhelm you.

"Vil!"

He was in the lounge, scolding conversing with Epel. The moment your eyes met, the most lovestruck of smiles crawled on your face. "Ah, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you greatly!" You walked over to him, a slight skip in your step. Vil merely raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here, potato? Unannounced, and you look like you've run here." He dismissed Epel, mumbling how he'll 'deal with him later', instead turning his attention fully to you.

"I came to ask for help, I accidentally ingested a potion. But now that I'm here-" you moved to link your arm with his. "I could maybe spend some time with you? We haven't seen each other in nearly a week, handsome." You winked at him.

"Potato, as much as I enjoy spending time with you, you can't ju- wait. What potion???" He grabed you by the shoulders. "How did it happen?!"

You smiled at him, reaching out to gently grasp a strand of his hair and twirl it. "It was supposed to be a truth potion, but something went wrong. Ace put it in a water bottle and I drank it. But I feel perfectly fine, especially now that I'm here. Ah, somehow I never get the chance to tell you how much you truly mean to me. And I mean it romantically."

He nearly lost his cool. Hiding his frazzled state behind a dainty cough, clearly fake, not that there was anybody around to call him out, a deep sigh escaped his lips. "You probably added too much chicory root and turned it into a love potion."

You frowned. "But my feelings are very real. I could just never tell you before. Do you.. not return them?"

"Pota- MC, let me brew you an antidote, and then I'll give you my answer, okay?"

You had texted him, saying you urgently needed to go see him. And you even had texted your code word for "fucking emergency, drop what you're doing right now". Yes, the word was "capybara". Much unlike his usual self, he quickly exited the game he was playing, after all - you only used that word once before, and he really didn't want to ponder on THAT time.

Just as he was about to text you back, a hurried knock on his door startled him.

"MC?" He questioned, looking around to make sure his room was at least somewhat decent looking. You'd hung out with him countless times before, but he wanted to double-check anyways.

"Yes! I'm coming in!" And there you stood, worry instantly leaving your features the moment you spotted him. "Ah, Idia. I'm so lucky to have you.~" before he could react, you made a few steps forward and threw yourself on him, hugging him.

Now, Idia has never been one to appreciate any kind of contact, especially physical. But having his crush hug him. Nah. His internal graphics card isn't strong enough to withstand such situations. He felt himself nearly overheat at the feeling of your body against his. The tiniest of yelps escaped him - the clearest of signs that his body was going into overdrive.

"Idia, something really bad happened and I fear it might affect me. I should stay indoors until it wears off, can we just stay here and cuddle?"

CUDDLE?! C U D D L E?! D-DID HE HEAR YOU RIGHT?! His knees buckled and the two of you fell to the floor. "W-wha-" he couldn't even form his sentence. And it became even worse, once you nestled into his arms, making yourself more comfortable. "I've been waiting for a long time to do this~" you murmured, a satisfied smile on your lips.

He gathered all of the strength in his body, mind and soul, to ask you. "W-what bad thing happened?"

"I drank a potion in class. I don't know what will happen to me and when it will wear off." You mumbled, fingers tracing over his chest. "But I feel safe now. So it's okay."

What kind of potion? He focused all of his attention to the information given to him. He had to know, insecurities and anxiety be damned, you used *the code word* after all.

Somehow, he hoped his suspicions were incorrect.

Malleus was walking near Ramshackle, waiting patiently for your arrival, as the two of you'd scheduled an afternoon walk. Naturally, he saw you approach from a mile away, but the worried look on your face, alarmed him . What alarmed him even more was the faint magical residue, emanating off of you. You were supposed to be magicless, right? Did somebody try to attack you?

As you reached him, you immediately buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, gently running his fingers through your hair. You two were already close enough to have some form skinship, but somehow you were never this forward.

"Tsunotarou", you mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I'm late." "Nonsense, Child of man. I reckon you're just on time. Is this what has you so troubled?"

"Not really, we had an accident in potions class." Before you could further elaborate, you reached out, cupping his cheek. "But it's okay. This is the most free I've ever felt. As if I'm soaring through the sky, and for once I'm not overthinking my every move. And it's all because of you." You stroked his cheek gently. "Have I ever told you how much I like you?"

His eyes grew wide open at the carefree admission. He was one split second decision away from kissing you breathless right then and there, but somehow he knew something was very wrong. "My, how bold of you, my dear." His surprise soon turned to sorrow, as he pieced together the situation. "It appears that accident may have involved a love potion."

"It was supposed to be a truth potion." You corrected with a small giggle.

"Alas, those two are easy to mix. I appreciate the boldness, I truly do, my dear. However, seeing as you're under the influence of such a potion, I cannot respond in any way."

A bitter smile graced his lips as he patted you on the head. "Let us bring you to Professor Crewel, to brew an antidote. In the meantime, you can tell me which insolent soul is responsible for this."

You pouted at him. "Crewel said it will wear off on its own. And once it does, I will come and confess to you again, to show you how real my feelings are."

That made him smile a bit, as his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Some may call it false hope. He calls it dedication.

"Then I shall await that moment most ardently, my dear."

[miss-tc-nova]

Not Vil - Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Okay, listen. Listen Linda! I know this isn't great, even though this is kind of the concept you were thinking of. I hope you still find this one silly and somewhat entertaining, but just you wait. I had another idea too.

So stay tuned!

Premise: Vil is taking his character a bit too far

Words: 926

~~~~~

               I feel my lips purse, willing myself to keep my mouth shut. This is important to him. This is for a project—for his career. Plus, it would cause quite a bit of drama.

               But damn if I don’t slap Vil Schoenheit, I better get a Partner-of-the-Year award.

               For the past thirty days, the actor has been testing method acting—the kind people use in TV shows and movies, pretending that they truly are the character both on and off camera. I think part of the excitement comes from the fact that this is a main character role and he wants it to be his best yet. And it wouldn’t be bad, if Vil wasn’t playing such an eccentric, flirtatious, goofy character. It was kind of cute at first, and maybe I even enjoyed the extra flirting a little bit. But then it got old.

               Vil’s excessive monologuing on the beauty of every person he came across bordered on the realm of Rook. Everyone was lovingly compared to some beauty or another, which is very awkward for most of these self-conscious NRC boys. He began willing joining in on the antics of the first years, which was fun for a day, but became overbearing when he quickly began leading the group into even more shenanigans—several of which I became responsible for. And for all the poise and confidence that Vil exuded, this “character” was naïve with such childish notions of relationships. I did not need any more roses or for him to start fawning at the thought of a kiss. I didn’t even get the kiss in the end.

               Now, I’m sitting here, going over my homework, sitting alone in Ramshackle for some peace from that overbearing character.

               The foyer door opens. Ramshackle is still very much bare and under-furnished, leaving me fully exposed to whatever guest let themselves in.

               “There’s my beautiful muse.” The higher tone of his voice actually sends unpleasant shivers down my spine.

               “Oh. Hi sweetheart,” I greet, hoping my tone stays even.

               Hands cupping my face—a big Vil no-no—the young man squishes my face as he presses kisses all across my face. After at least a dozen, I shake him off.

               “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! How was your day, darling?”

               I drag a sleeve across my face. “It’s been alright. Trein gave an essay assignment and I’ve been working on it since class ended.”

               “Hm? Let me see.”

               Before I could say anything, the page disappears. I didn’t need help; I didn’t even ask. But here’s this wacky, flamboyant character waxing poetic about some treaty between humans and fae. Hell, I’m not even sure what he’s talking about and have long since tuned him out when, once again, his attention turns on me.

               Fingers tip my chin higher. With eyes clearly clouded with rose-tinted glasses, he coos at me.

               “What I wouldn’t do to place a tender kiss upon that beautiful face of yours.”

               The answer is obviously leaning in. I can’t even remember the last time Vil gave me an actual kiss or curled up with me for our weekly movie night. Hell, he won’t even hold my hand as we walk across campus anymore—too busy monologuing about some purity or other. I’m sick of this. This is not Vil and I’ve had enough.

               If he wants to be this character, then fine. He’s that character.

               “Mmm, I dunno. That sounds a bit too forward if you ask me.”

               A hand finds his chest. “Forward? I didn’t offend you, did I?”

               “No, by all means you flatter me, but such behavior would be improper, don’t you think?”

               The slightest twitch of his brows seems to say some signal has reached him.

               “Perhaps the impropriety lies with me. I would be honored if you would grace me with a kiss.”

               “Excuse me?”

               With pouting lips, Vil tilts his head. “Kiss me.”

               “Kiss you?”

               “Please?”

               I turn my head away, waving a hand dismissively. “Sorry, but I’m dating Vil Schoenheit.”

               The man freezes. Blinks.

               “But I’m…”

               I watch, waiting for the ball to drop.

               He sighs, shoulders relaxing with a hint of defeat on his face.

               “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I.”

               A smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe a little.”

               His head falls back, arms open to beckon me into his embrace which I gladly step into. Caressing hands rub at my back, his chin resting atop my head.

               “I’m sorry, my gem.”

               Giggling, I hold tightly. “If you don’t take this crappy methodism out of your acting techniques, I’m breaking up with you. I refuse to date all your characters.”

               “That’s a bit harsh.” Even his voice holds some laughter to it. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

               “Yeah right. You would’ve nearly burst into tears and begged me to tell you what you could change…in character.”

               He sighs. “Oh fine. I would have.” Leaning back, Vil gives me a smile—a true, gentle, sultry Vil smile. “So, how should I make it up to you?”

               I walk my fingers along his chest. “I think you owe me an extensive spa day for all the stress you’ve put me through.”

               Amethyst eyes take in my face. “Mmm, you may be right. You might be starting to develop frown lines.”

               I glare.

               “I’m kidding, my gem. I would be happy to spoil you. Are you going to pick the movie tonight?”

               “I’m going to pick the most childish, goofy, outlandish movie I can find.”

               Again, he sighs. “The price of acting is forever a steep one.”

~~~~~

Alternate - The Worst Method

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[descendant-of-truth]

If I may throw my hat into the ring here, I think the source of a lot of problems in the writing of Miraculous can be boiled down to its confusion over its target demographic.

There are two very clear audiences the show is trying to cater to:

Grade school girls around 5-10

Teens/young adults around 15-20

And this results in some. unique conflicts in the show's internal logic.

Because it's a superhero show for little kids, it's full of fun, bright colors, wacky villain-of-the-week designs, and the characters are all very straightforward with exaggerated personality traits. The cheerful, clumsy, scatterbrained girl protagonist, her utterly charming and goofy (but slightly clueless) love interest, her cool best friend, her mean bully, etc.

This extends to the romance; the show is so comedic that Marinette's nervous crush and Cat Noir's flirting are played up for laughs. Their more "problematic" behaviors read as cartoon shenanigans first and foremost, which I do think was the intention - they're both shown as being more than a little ridiculous for acting this way, so they're not exactly trying to encourage people to emulate them. They're allowed to be genuinely wholesome, too, because it's nice to give the kids something to go "aww!" at, but it's not meant to be more complicated or deep than that.

And of course, it's gotta follow a sweet and simple episodic formula! A conflict in Marinette's civilian life, an inciting incident to get a side character upset enough for Hawk Moth to turn into a villain, Ladybug and Cat Noir show up, there's fun banter, Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm to figure out a wacky solution to the problem, and boom! The day is saved, Marinette and/or someone else learns a moral, and we get a cute little end screen showing all the key players of the episode.

The one aspect of the show's setup that's a little more serious is the fact that Adrien has a super controlling and distant father, but even this is something that doesn't necessarily break the kid-friendly tone for the first season or two. Superhero shows in particular like to put in some stuff that's a little more emotionally challenging for the viewers, even when they're mostly comedic, so it's not totally out of place here.

For example, while they tend to have more grounded tones overall, Spider-Man cartoons are aimed at kids and regularly keep the conflict between Harry Osborn and his father, Norman, intact; often including the plot point of Norman being the Green Goblin, a notorious villain. It's a similar deal with Adrien, and his dad secretly being Hawk Moth.

You can easily anticipate drama coming from this, but the show primes you to expect it to work out fine in the end because every other conflict so far has been wrapped up in a nice little bow once the episode's over. Though I will say, the choice to have Hawk Moth be Gabriel instead of his own, separate character is perhaps the first sign of the tone shift to come.

And, uh. it sure is a shift.

See, Miraculous does not start out with what you'd call a... plot. It vaguely alludes to there being more going on behind the scenes, but the only thing it really tries to get you invested in is the Love Square dynamic. Marinette and Adrien dancing around each other while fighting crime IS the plot, and it's clearly going to end with a cool final confrontation with Hawk Moth.

You expect it to end like... well, like the movie. Identities are revealed, Gabriel realizes the error of his ways when he finds out he's been fighting his son this whole time, and they may or may not make up but he almost definitely gets arrested. Marinette and Adrien kiss, roll credits.

This is not what happens, because the plot the writers actually had in mind is complex in a way that I would argue is meant for the same audience as YA novels. And with that plot comes a lot of darker, weightier traits to these otherwise silly characters.

Marinette isn't just scatterbrained and nervous, she has debilitating anxiety and an increasing need to be in control of everything due to the stress she's under. She has panic attacks on-screen. She's not just great at strategizing, she also knows how to manipulate people, and does so with increasing frequency - and to Cat Noir at times, no less. Her positive traits haven't gone anywhere, she's still loving and creative and sweet and doing her best to help everyone she can, she just. has all of that other stuff going on, now.

Adrien isn't just a charming, goofy, clueless love interest with a gazillion skills and a controlling father, he's like. actively being abused, and in some cases straight-up mind controlled. His tendency to heroically sacrifice himself so that Ladybug can do her Cool Protagonist Thing is gradually but unmistakably reframed as being a sign of suicidal inclinations. He has identity issues out the wazoo and he doesn't even know he's an artificially created human yet, because everyone in his life is keeping secrets from him and/or lying to his face about crucial information.

Information like, uh. how his dad died???

Yeah, so we're at a point in the story now where there was no satisfying conclusion to the Gabriel plot, no team-up, no moment where he realizes he's been fighting his son, none of that. He still has something akin to a change of heart, but he also still kind of gets what he wants - the Miraculous of the Ladybug and Black Cat, which he uses to rewrite the universe with a wish. It's just that instead of reviving his wife, he trades his life for Natalie's. Of course, he was already dying anyway, which was his own fault but he did force Cat Noir's Cataclysm onto himself, so, that's another thing poor Adrien is going to have to deal with at some point.

And because there's all these astronomically messed up things in Adrien's life, and Marinette's the one who got to learn about all of it before him, she decides that maybe it would be better if he just. didn't know about it. Which is understandable, if I was 14 and had all this information about my boyfriend's life that he didn't, I wouldn't know how to begin telling him about it, either.

But. can you see how we've maybe lost the plot, here?

Here's the thing: starting with a simple framework and gradually getting more complex and subverting the audience's expectations for how the main villain is going to be dealt with is not a bad thing. The fact that it gets darker over time is not an issue. I actually think that all these developments are, themselves, pretty cool! I'm a sucker for angst and complex character dynamics and the show is absolutely giving me those things.

The problem is that it didn't just start with a simple framework, it started with the framework for a different demographic entirely, and perhaps just as importantly, it never actually... stopped.

For as much complexity and intensity they're injecting this story with, they're still working under the logic of it being "for young kids." We still get goofy villain-of-the-week designs with equally goofy motivations, and the supporting cast is stuck remaining two-dimensional no matter their circumstances. Chloe is the most blatant example of this - she was made to be a simple bully first, so no matter what else they do with her, she has to remain straightforwardly evil.

This, I think, is the reason that Gabriel is a more nuanced and "sympathetic" antagonist than her, and why so much care goes into Adrien's character as a victim of abuse while Chloe is just a Problem Child despite suffering similar neglect; she wasn't made to be interesting, and so the show is resistant to changing that. Gabriel and Adrien, however, were already made with nuance in mind, and so they're allowed to develop as characters. And at the same time, it's a kid's show! We need to teach the kids what kind of behavior is acceptable, and Chloe's home life isn't an excuse to treat people badly, so--!

...Oh crap we're supposed to be teaching kids about acceptable behavior. Uh. Um. Quick, bring back the ice cream akuma who cares way too much about his ships so that Cat Noir can learn about consent! Uhh, but don't change his character too much afterwards, he's only marketable because of his silly flirting, and we can't lose that.

Yeah, remember when I said that the romance having problematic elements to it used to work well enough because it was clearly just exaggerated cartooniness? It wasn't free from criticism or anything, but you could see how it was intended to be endearing and silly, right? You were supposed to point and laugh at Marinette's convoluted plans to spend time with Adrien, at Cat Noir's dramatic flirting attempts that Ladybug herself fondly rolled her eyes at.

The tonal shift into deep character exploration kinda paints the previous stuff in a worse light, and to an extent, I think the writers know that. It's hard to laugh at Cat Noir being flirty all the time when he's also supposed to be taken completely seriously, and the more Ladybug rejects him, the more it turns into harassment, and it. kinda just stops being funny, even with the comedic framing.

It's also hard to laugh at Marinette's crush being so all-consuming when they try to tell us (in what I can only assume was an attempt to get people to stop complaining) that she's like this because it's fueled by an event in her past, one that made her so scared of loving the wrong person that she now needs to know Everything about them before asking them out. Her cartoon antics aren't funny under that light, it's just concerning, but they're dedicated to keeping it up anyway.

The show runs on straightforward cartoon logic where you're not supposed to think about it too hard just as much as it runs on grounded, closer-to-real-life logic where people are messy and complicated and actions have consequences. It's so divided that you can hand-pick parts of the story that are influenced by one or the other pretty easily, and depending on the episode you can find instances of both in the same 20-minute time span. Maybe even multiple times!

Neither thing they're trying to go for is bad, and neither is a better approach than the other, but forcing them into the same show makes both sides suffer.

It's not just hard to laugh at the parts I mentioned earlier, it's hard to take Gabriel seriously as a villain whenever you rewatch an episode and remember that he has a once-per-episode pun-based speech that he says so self-seriously that you can't help but laugh at. It's hard to take him seriously when you remember that he repeatedly akumatized a Literal Baby and practically threw a tantrum every time it didn't work, or when he randomly steals (and enthusiastically performs) his nephew's musical dance number, or something similar that you would only do for a cartoon villain aimed at five-year-olds.

And I can only imagine this whole show is a marketing nightmare, too. Hey, little girls, here's your cool role model! She's cute and smart and talented and powerful and can fix anything by shouting the title of the show! Hope you're having fun watching her tell her boyfriend that his newly-deceased father (who used deepfakes of him to sell merchandise that's built to enslave the population and then locked him in a solitary confinement chamber in another country) was actually a hero who sacrificed himself to stop the main villain instead of, y'know, being the main villain! Aren't you excited to watch her wrestle with the guilt of this lie for the next season or so? Doesn't it just make you want to buy her merchandise??

Like. what is even happening right now. what am I watching. how did we get here and why did we start where we did if this was what the story was going to be about

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi If you still do recuest's for twst

Can I recuest's the dorm leaders x GN!reader that is like the mad hatter?

Madhatter Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re wild and wacky with a love for tea and making hats. You’re never in one place long mentally and physically. Your suitors are often left to question everything when you seem to tip and top off the thin line of sanity:

Malleus Draconia

“Hi Hi Horns have you burped towards the roses today?”

“Roses? Do you mean the ones in Heartslaybul? And would that be polite? To burp on them?”

He’s the perfect accessory to your insanity

He’s plenty gullible to listen to you

even when your requests border that morale of good and evil 

He’s usually picking you

His eccentric little lover

There’s never a dull moment with you by his side

He starts having a problem though when there are others sitting in on your tea parties

His rainstorms don’t necessarily mean the absolute end when it comes to you

But they usually do for your unsuspecting participants

You’re so wonderful for him

He can’t let anyone enjoy his human as much as he does

“My child of man, may we do my head fitting? I’d love to feel you soft pads against my scalp.”

Kalim Al Asim

“What are you doing (Y/n)-chan?”

“I am stretching for the annual beetle festival.”

“Beetle festival? Can I join?”

“You may but you have to eat a lady-bug first.”

“Okay!”

You guys are like kids in a candy shop 

For Kalim, he never thinks to question your sanity

You're just an exciting person

He soon finds himself supplying whatever you need to fulfill your shenanigans

And something nasty creeps up when someone (Jamil) tells you to stop

“I can make it so we can finish our tea party….by ourselves this time.”

Idia Shroud

“Come on Fireplace! Drink this tea!”

“B-but you b-brewed that in your hat…!”

“Yes that’s how you’ll know it’s sanitary!”

“Y-you’re weird.”

“Why thank you!”

He just thinks you’re the weirdest person he’s ever met

At first, he thinks its really just fascination 

With the way, you randomly dance in the direction of the cameras that were supposed to be secret

That you were different just like him

And he thought just being allies was good enough

But now he’s plotting the demise of the normie that decides to dance along with you

“There aren’t many who can handle people like us! That’s why I can’t let anyone else have you.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“Let the unbirthday party begin!”

“(Y/n), hands should be out. Elbows off the table.”

“Whoopie did you see this dessert!”

“I did now sit in your seat.”

He has a weird ability to govern you 

No one understands it 

He barely understands it 

But you two mostly get along 

He often knows how to speak your language 

Something that many seem to struggle with

But he’s the go-to person to reign you in

That’s just the way he likes it+

“Come (Y/n) you’re a good hatter. I need one for our teaparty this evening. Make it.” 

Vil Schoenheit

“You’re sense of style is certainly unique.”

“Thanks the cobwebs were my latest addition!”

“What!? Cobwebs that can’t be healthy!”

“Oooh a hat made of cake!”

He thinks you're cute but he worries your lack of sanity leads you to make bad decisions

Like having hats with holes for nonexistent limbs

As well as your affinity for drinking tea for a meal 

And probably worst of all being friends with potatoes who can’t handle you 

Which is why Vil’s here

“Didn’t you read the schedule? We’re having tea, tonight so leave those potatoes behind.”

Leona Kingscholar

“Its time for the puppy hat party!”

“...Will you stop, I’m trying to sleep!”

“But it’s time for the party!!!!”

“I’m going to kill you.”

He thinks you're so cute 

But he loves it most when you card your hands through his hair while fitting his head for a hat

But part of your insanity has you being quite energetic

Which clashes with his love for sleep 

So he might meddle a little with the tea you seem addicted to it

So he might slip something in 

To make sure he gets his snuggly hatter in his bed

“Come on Herbivore you seem exhausted. If you’re not that tired you can fit me for a hat.”

[1caru]

Please! Can you give us more LU in twilight’s hyrule?

More ancestor and descendant relationship between time and twilight! 🥹 *cries*

hehe I'm honored that you like my work so much and want more <3

unfortunately I already have a ton of other projects lined up, so I can't promise anything yet, but you did remind me that I wanted to write a bit of a second part to my Time and Skull Kid comic, so I whipped this up for you. it's not really edited or anything but hopefully you enjoy it anyway~

(here's the link to the comic that comes before this for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, please read it for context:

"Hold on, where's the old man?"

Twilight turned around sharply, drawing a surprised yelp from the sailor sitting on his shoulders. "What?"

"He was just here," said Four, "Did he just... wander off? That's not like him."

"Maybe he got grabbed by something!" Wind exclaimed, searching the dense foliage for any signs of monsters.

"We haven't seen any monsters since we arrived here, though," Hyrule said thoughtfully, “And we would have heard him put up a fight.”

Dread began to build in Twilight's chest as his wolfish senses caught the faintest sound of an ocarina. He lowered Wind from his back and approached Legend, pulling his map out and offering it to the veteran. "I'll go look for him. There's a Spirit Spring not far from here, wait for us there," he explained, tracing the path with his finger, "The tunnel up ahead is dark, so you'll need a lantern, but the tunnel after that is well lit and leads right to the spring. I'll be back soon."

"Hold your horses, rancher," Legend said, grabbing Twilight's shoulder with his free hand before the man could run off into the woods, "Shouldn't one of us come with you, just in case?"

"I... I think I know where he went," Twilight said softly, "Don't worry, I know every corner of these woods. Trust me."

Legend released Twilight's shoulder and watched as he almost immediately shifted into wolf form and darted back down the trail they had been following. He sighed and motioned to the rest of the group, glancing back at the map in his hand. "Well, come on then, guys."

*

Twilight raced along the scent trail, muscle memory carrying him effortlessly over tree roots and through small tunnels left by local wildlife. His ears flattened against his head in panic when he picked up Time's trail, heading in the exact direction he had predicted. Would he reach his mentor in time? Or had the man already discovered that which he should not see?

The plaintive whistle of the ocarina, which had been gradually increasing in volume, came to an abrupt halt, and Twilight's heart jumped in his chest as if to mimic it.

He was too late.

His paws slowed to a defeated trot as he approached the quiet clearing. He shifted back into his Hylian form, then silently crept through the bushes, bracing himself for what he would find.

Time knelt in the clearing with his back to Twilight, his arms wrapped around a very familiar little spirit. Just beyond them, a simple gravestone sat nestled in the mossy ground, the inscription on it as clear as the day it was chiseled:

Link, Hero and Mentor.

The spirit in Time's arms lifted his face from where it had been buried in the man's shoulder. Little yellow eyes met Twilight's pale blue ones, and the spirit gasped. “Link! Doggy Link is here too!”

Time turned in surprise, as if just remembering who he had been traveling with until ten minutes ago. He smiled at Twilight for a moment, but suddenly found it hard to make eye contact when he noticed the expression on his protege's face.

“Um, Skull Kid, would you give us a moment?” he asked softly, looking down at the spirit that was still clinging to him.

Skull Kid held on tighter, suddenly looking very scared that Time might simply vanish if he let go.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Time soothed, “I just need to talk to him. I'll stay right here, okay?”

Twilight nodded behind him.

Skull Kid studied Twilight for a moment, then looked up at Time. “...Okay,” he murmured. He picked up the ocarina he had dropped earlier and pressed it into Time's hand. “Play this when you are done, okay? You better play it!”

Time smiled. “I will.”

He watched Skull Kid hop off into the trees, then rose to his feet, cradling the little tan ocarina in his hand. His thumb ran over the polished surface, the texture so familiar yet such a distant memory. He looked back at the gravestone, suddenly regretting that time their little group had taught each other how to read their different Hylian scripts.

“Seems I've wandered somewhere I should not have gone, haven't I?” he sighed.

Twilight walked into the clearing and stood by Time's side, somberly following his mentor's gaze. “Did Skull Kid tell you anything?”

“No,” Time replied, “But actions often say more than words can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to approach the subject at hand.

Twilight opened his mouth to speak, but Time quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Pup, I will not ask for an explanation if you do not want to give it. The flow of time is all too easily altered after all, one little word can completely change the course of history. However,” he continued, turning towards the young man, “I've seen the way you look at me, especially when our journey began. Someone your age should not have to look so sad. If telling me about this will ease some of the burden you carry, then I am more than happy to listen.”

Twilight looked up at him, his thoughts tripping over themselves in an effort to reach a decision. He desperately wanted to tell Time everything, how he had met him, what he knew of his mentor's fate. He wanted to tell him that changing the flow of time was his greatest desire, that he wished every day for a way to save Time from a death filled with regret and sorrow. And yet, his mind always wandered to that moment, when he had dealt the final blow to Ganondorf. The blow that Time's spirit had taught him. Would he had been able to defeat the Demon King if his ancestor had not been there to guide him? Would “saving” Time ultimately mean dooming Hyrule? Would it mean dooming more young heroes after him to take up the sword and attempt what he could not accomplish?

The rancher closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Time's breastplate as his shoulders sagged and tears threatened to form. Time held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his arm with one hand and wrapping the other around his upper back, still clutching the ocarina.

“It's more of a memorial than a grave,” Twilight eventually spoke, "I met your spirit during my journey. You taught me your sword techniques. I suppose I just wanted to thank you by honoring your memory."

Time hummed in response. “I must have been a good teacher then. Your skills are amazing to watch in action.”

Twilight let out a watery chuckle. “They saved my life more times than I can count.” He rested in Time's arms for a moment more, then pulled away with a small smile. “I think that's all I can say for now. Go ahead and spend some time with Skull Kid, I'll tell the others you'll catch up later. Ask Skull Kid to lead you to Ordon Village when you're done.”

“Thank you,” Time said gratefully.

Twilight nodded and headed back out of the clearing.

“...You know,” Time continued, looking at the ocarina thoughtfully, “That song he was playing, it's not from Hyrule.”

Twilight paused.

“It holds a very powerful magic, one said to put the sorrows of the departed who hear it to rest and allow them to pass on peacefully.”

Pale blue eyes widened as another memory floated to the surface. A stone sitting on a mountain path, howling a song that he had mimicked without wondering what it meant. A song that had been answered by a golden wolf with a single eye. A Shade, uttering words that Twilight had almost forgotten in his worry over Time.

At last, I have eased my regrets.

Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end after all.

[teyvatairconditioningco]

What in Hell Is Bad: Fangames

Gehenna: Plants Vs Zombies except you're strategically placing devils while angels are coming to kill you.

Tartaros: Crime sim, like a cross between GTA and Venture Capitalist. Starts with summoning Mammon because you're a petty thief, desperate for money. He takes a liking to you and makes a deal to help you accumulate crazy wealth. You start with small petty crimes and work your way up to fraud and other blue collar crimes, unlocking Tartaros devils with helpful abilities as you go.

Hades: A spooky puzzle game, vibes like Amnesia: Dark Descent and We Were Here. You're lost in an extremely haunted castle with funky dimensional shenanigans. It doesn't seem like there's anyone there... but you can't shake the feeling of being watched... Could it be the paintings of the beautiful man you keep seeing? Was that a tentacle disappearing around a corner?! As you go through solving chains of puzzles and solving mysteries, you meet Hades devils and gain their favor. The ultimate goal, you find, is to free Leviathan... whether he immediately kills you (bad end), throws you out alive (good end), or something else (secret end), depends on your actions and progress throughout the game.

Avisos: Cooking game. Accidental Beel summoning results in having to cook dishes so he doesn't eat you. As your skills improve, he wanders in and out and so do the other Avisos devils looking for him.

Paradise Lost: Wacky hospital game.

Niflheim: Puzzle platformer. Belphegor is tired and yeets you into funky pocket dimensions so he can nap. You unlock Niflheim devils and special abilities as you go. Cartoony and goofy.

Abaddon: Doki doki dating sim. You think it's going to be crazy kinky, but everyone just wants to be loved.

[dynamicccsworld]

Byler Week ideas/prompts, since I can't write or draw. Feel free to use to create your own fanfics or art <3

Some of these have little extra notes :)

Cobalt Blue

Ocean

•Jaws Au.

•Pirate Au.

• H20 Au.

•The Little Mermaid AU.

• Merpeople AU.

• The Wheelers have a Beach Vacation or something.

•Battle of the Beach (Enemies to Lovers)

Will and Mike both want a property on a small beach, with results in wacky shenanigans to convince Hopper (the owner) to give them the property. However, they bite off more than they can chew, and begin to view eachother differently then before.

Liminal Pool

•Backrooms AU.

Blue Hour

•Seamonster AU (Strangers to Lovers)

Will and Mike are investigators investigating a sea monster that comes out during blue hour, and they fall in love in the process.

Chili

Masquerade

•Murder Mystery AU

A murder mystery that takes place at a Masquerade, pretty self explanatory.

•Cinderella Inspired Masquerade AU

Rubies

•Royal AU

Will and Mike used to be childhood friends, but Mike got adopted by Queen Karen. Will is the son of a baker, and Mike is now a prince.

The only thing they have to remember eachother is a shared ruby necklace. (I had no better ideas lol)

Mauve

Butterfly Effect

•Time Travel AU

Will goes back in time to save people who have died in Hawkins, but it has unwanted side effects on the timeline.

•You Wish! AU

Mike wakes up in a world where he and Will never met, which leads to him discovering his feelings for him.

Lavender Fields

•Fae Au

1800s Ball

•Arranged Marriage AU

Gray

Medieval Knights

•Knight x Prince

•D&D AU

•Knight x Mage (Duh)

Growing Old

•Byler Dad AU

•Byler over the years refecting on their relationship

Love Locks

•Mike or Will finds a love lock.

• Lover Locks Movie AU. (I've never watched this movie so I don't know anything about it)

Forest Green

Hiking

•Will and Mike meet after getting lost on a hiking trail.

Spring Break

• The Party plans to get Mike and Will together over the course of spring break.

Cottage Core

•Disney AU

• Royalty AU, Again.

Prince Mike flees his castle after getting in a fight with his father, and he gets lost. After getting lost he discovers a strange cottage in the woods.

Gold

Birthday Party

•Birthday Gate

•Birthday Au

Mike or Will freaking out about the others birthday.

Sunset

•Magic AU

Something magical happens during a sunset, you can decide what it is. C:

Picnic

•Established Relationship AU

Just a fluffy fic where they have a picnic :)

Rose Gold

Champagne

•Drunk Byler

Mike or Will confess while drunk.

Engagement Rings

•Accidental Engagement

Byler accidentally gets engaged while drunk.

•Proposing

Will or Mike freaking about how to propose.

That's all the ideas I have! If you use any you don't need to credit ^^

(Byler week belongs to @bylerweek2025)

[haphazardlyannotated]

Steven Universe told from the perspective of other characters

Garnet: A story of gay empowerment from start to finish. As a book it would be titled either Made of Love or Stronger Than You and feature Garnet's gauntlets with her wedding rings on them as cover art.

Amethyst: A seemingly wacky coming of age story that drops the most heartfelt moments when your guard is down. The cover resembles kids' detective stories, the kind where the whole gang is looking around for clues to the mystery.

Pearl: Everything up to Rose's death is an ancient literary classic titled The Ballad of Rose Quartz, illustrated with intricate inkbrush paintings. Steven Universe season one to three is the kind of introspective life after tragedy novel you pick up to look sophisticated reading. It's probably titled Without Her or something similiar. I don't have a title for season four and onwards, but the blurb is "it's not easy to manage twenty girlfriends, two life partners, a son and a dark past at the same time!" It's much more lighthearted than the previous two, but still prone to punching you in the emotions with little warning.

Connie: A magical adventure series just like the Unfamiliar Familiar! It centers Steven the magical boy with his best friend and eventual love interest Connie as the female lead. The tone gets a little darker after the first book/season, but less so than the original Steven Universe (let alone Steven Universe Future).

Greg: First a coming of age story, but unlike Amethyst this one is about breaking away from toxic people in your life. This story gets its happy ending when Greg finally finds someone he can be himself with in Rose. The time until Rose's death is a romantic comedy titled My Girlfriend, her Girlfriend and Me and conists mostly of shenanigans. After Rose's death and Steven's birth, it turns into something more bittersweet centering Greg's worries about being an adequate father to his magical son.

Peridot: It's titled How I learned to stop worrying and join the Rebellion and is easily the most lighthearted installment here. Our dorky protagonist is very obviously a somewhat unreliable narrator, but in a funny way. She encounters a few struggles, but they are quickly overcome with the power of friendship.

Lapis: This is just multiple whump fics. They're in a collection titled Bad Things Happen Roulette. Steven Universe the Movie is a pretty standard fantasy adventure with a group of powerful heroes though, and Steven Universe Future is the fluff fic with a smidge of angst you'd read as a pick me up after Bad Things Happen Roulette.

Bismuth: The war is a good vs evil sci-fi story with lots of social commentary. The Diamonds are definitely irredeemable here. I don't know what to do with the few episodes of the original Steven Universe she was in, but the movie is an empowerment narrative against systemic oppression titled Still Standing, or something in that style. Steven Universe Future however is a romantic comedy.

Rose: This is just a straight (well, bi) up tragedy. Our protagonist desperately tries to recover from her childhood trauma and be a good person, but is ultimately unable to escape the prison of her own mind. The book wins several literature prizes, but very few people actually read it because it's just too depressing.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hello, new to interacting with the fandom tbh. It's been a few years (1 year and a couple of months) since I've seen miraculous. Why did s4 and s5 so cluttered? Sentimonster Felix and Adrien? Shouldn't that complicate things? I mean, they're created with magic. And Kagami and Felix? After he kidnapped her and stole all of the miraculous to give it to Hawkmoth? He's even worse than Chloe, why did they make him into a hero? Like he should have been an anti-hero at best. And why Catwalker? Why all of the lovesquare shenanigans? It's so confusing. And did they seriously replace Chloe with Zoe (gosh even their names sound the same)? Half-sister? Who wasn't even there in episodes with Audrey? Zoe from New York, a better sister than Chloe with a heart of a hero? Am I reading a fanfic? And why did they make Alya and Zoe into ladynoir's replacement if Ladybug and Chat Noir are coming back anyway? What is this mess?? And did they seriously make Chloe into a mayoress? Uh hello? She's a minor? Minors aren't allowed in any government offices no matter their age or status. What happened to this show?? The early seasons were already cluttered in its writing but at least they're at least understandable. But what the heck is s4-s5? Heck even the powers of some of the kwamis don't make sense.

I obviously can't give you the real logic for why all of this happened since I'm not one of the show's writers, but I can give you my best guess based on what we know about the show. In my opinion, all of this nonsense happened because of poor planning and bad writing both of which were compounded by the fact that Miraculous is an episodic formula show where every episode is supposed to be able to stand alone as its own self-contained story.

This is not a bad thing in and of itself. There are many successful properties that use this format. The problem is that it's a terrible format for everything that Miraculous is trying to do because this format means that nothing can be properly developed. As an example from your list, Felix can't be a complex character who requires multiple episodes to properly understand. He has to be straight-forward enough that I can catch a random episode and understand who he is in that episode even if it massively contradicts other episodes. That's why his "redemption" is so wacky and nonsensical. It's not a coherent narrative. It's a highlight reel of the big moments in a narrative we never get to see in full because that would require some level of serialization.

This is the answer to basically everything you listed. For example, why did season five start with all of those awkward lovesquare shenanigans? Those happened because the square can't have a functional arc where the they get together as that would require a storyline that goes over multiple episodes, but the writers still wanted to make them getting together dramatic, so we get a disjointed mess of shenanigans where Ladynoir gets married in one episode, the crushes flip in the next episode, and Marinette is #Thirsty for Chat Noir in the episode after that even though it completely contradicts Marinette's emotional state in the crush flip episode (she wasn't #Thirsty, she was #Horrified!)

We don't even see the square actually get together! Kwamis' Choice gives us these two moments:

Alya: How did we go from “I’m pathetic and I’ll never love again” to “Yay! I’m going out with Adrien”? Marinette: I’m not going out with Adrien…

and

(Marinette attempts to reach out and hold Adrien's hand but shakes as she is a few inches away from his hand. She attempts to do it again, but this time forcibly reaching for his hand.) Adrien: Are you okay, Marinette? If you're not ready, you don't have to. Marinette: (while struggling to reach out for Adrien's hand) No! I can... do this!! (grunts aggressively) Adrien: You know, we can just be friends if you prefer. Marinette: No! No, I don't want to be friends with you! Adrien: (taken aback and gasps) I see... Marinette: No! I didn't mean it like that! Ugh, my hand... will obey me!!

And then the very next episode opens with Chat Noir and Ladybug telling each other about their new relationships:

Cat Noir: I'm super happy for you, m'lady. Can you believe it? I have a girlfriend, you have a boyfriend, and we can talk about it! Ladybug: Like real friends. Ladybug and Cat Noir: It's awesome. Pound it!

Which makes no sense because when did the relationship happen???? I thought you two weren't dating yet??? What is going on here???

The only answer I can come up with is what I said above: the writers need each episode to be self contained, but they also wanted the square getting together to be dramatic and have some semblance of an actual plot-line, so they tried to do both of those things by giving us a highlight reel instead of a coherent narrative. Does it work? Not really, but that's why a multi-episode romance plot is a terrible choice for an episodic formula show that vows to have each episode truly stand alone. There is a reason I keep pointing out that Kim Possible got its endgame couple together in an hour-long special that didn't follow the show's standard formula. That's about the only way to do it right while maintaining your status as an episodic formula show.

Pick a plot/plot point from your list and ask yourself: can I tell this properly in a self-contained 20 minute episode while also including an akuma fight? If the answer is no, then that's your answer for why it's bad. It's also the answer for why there's so much crap in seasons four and five. The writers are trying to advance their season-specific plot and their multi-season plot in disjointed chunks while also keeping the audience engaged. This led them to add in tons of random shit that will never be properly addressed, but that makes for solid cheap drama because, once again, everything the show gives us needs to be done in self-contained 20 minute stories that also include an akuma fight.

This is also why Marinette never tried to rescue the Kwamis. That would require her to be able to track down where they are and she couldn't succeed in doing that until the final. She also couldn't make slow progress throughout the season because that's too serialized. Because of those limitations, Marinette spends the season being cringe over Adrien because that doesn't need a ton of additional context for a viewer to understand what's going on. A line or two at the start of the episode tells you the current status quo even if that status quo doesn't feel like it makes much sense for the characters from the perspective of the ongoing narrative.

An example of this is Marinette going from crying over her crush on Chat Noir in Determination to being happy about her crush in Passion. Her being upset is way too complicated to explain and resolve, so instead we get this:

Alya: What do you mean you're in love with Chat Noir? Marinette: I don't see what's so weird about it. Alya: It's weird, because you were in love with Adrien just, like, yesterday. (points at the corkboard with photos on the wall next to them) Marinette:(covers the corkboard with her body) Adrien? Yeah, but being in love with Adrien was not a good idea.

I don't like any of this, but it is what it is. Expect more of the same in season six

[poorlittleyaoyao]

The bit where we see Mianmian again in CQL you genuinely have to pretend that they had an offscreen conversation or somehow she had figured out WWX was set up somehow on her own, because its a remnant from the books where Mianmian wasn't part of the Jin and didn't know Zixuan at all(although he still protected her in the cave). (It also takes place after Guanyin temple in the books and Mianmian Jr had just nearly interrupted wangxian fucking, so)

WAIT WHAT.

Since my toxic trait* is that I've only read 2/5 of MDZS, this is brand-new information to me and oh?? My god?? AFTER Guanyin Temple? What is the reason for that meeting, thematically? For all the weirdness in CQL given LQY's attachment to Zixuan in that canon, I get the significance of that moment. Since it comes after the stairs but before the Second Siege of the Burial Mounds, LQY is the first person WWX has encountered outside his small immediate circle who believes that the Yiling Laozu is and was a good person. It's a sign that his legacy includes his acts of kindness and bravery alongside his mistakes. The complications of LQY being JZX's friend aren't addressed,** and that's a shame, but I still get what they were going for.

But AFTER Guanyin Temple? After WWX has already been exonerated in the court of public opinion because the jianghu's animosity has transferred to JGY? What's the narrative point of that? Is it just a wacky shenanigan put there because MXTX realized LQY was a loose end that needed tying up?

*This toxic trait is also my superpower because, armed with the extensive notes I took when rewatching CQL, this humble blogger is almost never conflating drama canon with other canons. Can't erroneously extrapolate incompatible information when there's nothing to extrapolate from!

**LQY understandably has a cynical view of the jianghu political apparatus and its mob mentality, but there are a lot of intermediate points between "WWX is Satan incarnate even though Satan isn't even a thing in our culture" and "WWX has never done a single thing wrong in his entire life." CQL!LQY saw WWX get in JZX's face at the inn, throw hands with him at Cloud Recesses Summer Camp, and both throw hands and involuntarily summon resentment during the Soup Drama. Though she may not believe he murdered JZX in cold blood, she's certainly got a wealth of evidence that WWX is tempestuous and capable of great destruction, and very little evidence to suggest that the accusation is 100% false. Even if I believed my friend's death to be accidental, I don't think I'd be cheerfully telling my small child that the person who caused the accident was a super cool dude.

[luckyclovernb]

Do you have any thoughts about what the potential ending(s) of your AU where all of the love interests live together as roommates, thus all see Jack leaving the tape? Follow-up, is it okay to write fanfiction based off of your AUs? (To be clear, this would be fully credited, and I wouldn’t write your sona to prevent any character assassination!)

I never came up with any, no. I really only got so far as "Oh wouldn't it be fun if they all lived together and got into wacky shenanigans?" I cackle a little to myself when I see people call it "the good ending". In reality, Jack is much much worse. Do you realize how many people would hit on the LI's per day? That's 4x times the people to get rid of. Yeah go ahead! I'd actually love to see what people come up with, so go ahead and tag me or send me a link please!

[oh-no-its-bird]

Yeah!!! when i first saw the whole "Thorne in narutoland" i though he was such an amazing pic because of his side-role of simply reacting to the wacky shenanigans around him. Ok, mainly just the absurd stuff Remilia will say (& do) but shhh

like imagine if he just got a costumer service job just to make a little living and it turned out to be a popular stop for ninja, he gets to overhear all sorts of crazy stuff. & get insanely peeved over how the village is run. What even are the priorities??

I can also imagine Thorne getting insanely confused over how others with demonic features (bloodline limits) get treated better than Naruto. Is there a strange & mysterious hierarchy going on?

Also i can totally see a demons resistance towards the miasma play into nature chakra or maybe genjutsus!!

YOU !!!! YOU GET IT! !!!!

I love Thorne so much, I'm always such a fan of characters that amount to "literally just a guy" (bonus points if they're visibly stressed) when it comes to casts of very impressive / important people, and he totally falls into that. My baby girl. My wife. I love him.

Live Thorne reaction is my favorite thing ever, he is doing a wonderful job both running the village and also standing there and looking pretty then reacting with appropriate "h u h ?" reactions every time Remilia declares her newest absolutely batshit insane venture.

"Bye Thorne, Im going to go kill a god now <3"

"Ahaha. Of course you are. Doing that." <- (looks like he's about to have a heart attack)

I think it's also interesting how like. Aside from the understandable shocked reactions, Thorne really does just. Keep rolling as he takes the punches.

Remilia killed a god? Hey, what the fuck! Life moves on tho, he has a village to run.

The star maiden has secret plans to lock him in a dungeon and turn him into her personal potioneer? Cool! That's going to give him nightmares now! Time to just refuse to unpack that and be glad it didn't happen.

Remilia pulls him in to a meeting with The Demon King to create a steady trade deal between realms, with him as their spokesperson on the villages end? Well he's sweating fucking bullets and feeling very out of place, but this might as well happen.

Thorne is my favorite king of "this might as well be my life", I love him dearly

Anyways I came here to talk about Thorne in Naruto so uhhh

I would fucking LOVE to see him in naruto. Obviously yk, like I mentioned before in my other post ab this, Thorne is a demon! He is a demon from the Demon Realm! He is a demon from the demon realm who helped to build a village mostly from the ground up, yes with Remilia's backing but like-- she was busy fighting gods and preforming miracles across the country side while he did the heavy lifting of day to day village management.

So like. Hey. A demon man with experience and genuine passion in running a village? In fucking Naruto? Instantly, so much potential.

HIM GETTING MAD AB HOW THE VILLAGE IS RUN IS SO FUNNY ACTUALLY. Thorn is crossing his arms tutting disapprovingly as he squints at the different aspects of shinobi and civilian life as they're managed by the rules and regulations of Konoha.

Thorne himself is a civillian, so it'd be interesting to see how he views the systems of Konoha from that lense. Konoha is a shinobi village and Thorne straight up doesn't even know what a shinobi is, so the whole system probably reads as really weird for him from the beginning

ALSO YOUR SO RIGHT AB THE BLOODLINE THING CONFUSING HIM AND THATS SO FUN

The thing is like. Literally who and how is Thorne supposed to figure out that no, none of these guys are demons. Yes, that includes the visibly not human looking people. Yes, some of these people using the title of demon as an insult. No, they are not actual demons.

Thorne is so fucking confused and has little to no real way to actually piece together that everyone around him is human. He could just ask, obviously, but that'd be a weird fucking thing to do and Thorne was raised on a fear of being killed for being what he is.

And even tho he's able to walk around (in his own world) as a Known Demon now, by the time he realizes everyone in this new village thinks he's a fr human-- well, he's already seen some villagers talking about "the demon fox" and throwing things at Naruto for being a so called demon.

So.

He has quite a bit of motivation to be on his fucking tippy toes ab this subject

And obviously yk, it's not like he can just crack open a random book and read out "ah yes, this world is populated by humans, and demons-- known more commonly as yokai, also exist and are seen as proper monsters and are also super rare and just about never take human form" like. What kinda book just reads that

Anyways all of this is to say that Thorne has a proper Situation to figure the fuck out and by the time he even realizes that there is a situation to figure out, he has more than enough reason to be fucking scared of what might happen if he fucks this up

Anyways uhh.

Having fun thinking ab things like seals and talismans and stuff designed to target biiju and spirits also affecting Thorne. Where would Thorne fall, as a proper demon from another world? He isn't quite a spirit, not really, but he certainly isn't anything human.

I think it'd be fun if he registered as some sort of yokai, which also pings him on the radar of the biiju.

Let's go with the hc that yokai used to be super common in the warring states, proper mideval fantasy japan where spirits lurk around every corner and you must always be mindful of your surroundings. But then the biiju were sealed, and suddenly yokai just started disappearing. It's unclear as to why, but popular theories tend to follow the same thought process of "well, the yokai felt the biiju being sealed and fled out of fear"

Now, ~60 years later, yokai are pretty much never seen. They still exist, probably, but pretty much no humans have seen them in decades. Or if they have, it's rare enough occurrences that it's an entire Thing(tm) and either is kept secret or the guy who saw them fucking died

ANYWAYS. ALL OF THAT IS TO SAY UHHH.

Yeah. Yokai Thorne not fully aware that he would be considered a yokai in this world where yokai haven't been seen in decades. Very fun implications.

He absolutely would try to help the biiju separate from their jinchuriki bc he considers the biiju as demons and like. He is also a demon. Demon solidarity.

Thorne is a character whos been proven to love his people. He literally committed his life into trying to just provide for the refuges of his race. When he was given the chance to help create a village for demons, he took to it like a fish to water. He used his own money when they run low, he helped to take care of the children, he really, really cares for his people.

And, well, now the biiju are his people too

Oh also!! I think it's interesting to point out too that Thorne isn't unfamiliar to the idea of moving between worlds/realms; He was a refugee from the demon realm when he was a child, and then came to uhh. Whatever Remilia's world would be called, ig. Is it earth? Idunno

But like, he did that!! He came from another realm!!

Then Remilia herself goes into several pocket dimensions and like, god realms or whatever, so theres that too

Idk I just think it'd be an interesting thing to point out if he gets tossed into Naruto-- it wouldn't be his first time as some sort of refugee from another world, having to adapt to an entirely new world filled with strange people and customs.

Food for thought

Uhhh I had a few other thoughts on this but Im ngl, I kinda forgot them. Might come back to this later

Anyways yeah, Thorne, I love him so much. Thank you for your ask!!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Light-blue Shy Guy

Debut: Mario Kart DS

I love light blue, and I love Shy Guys! But I don't think I can talk all that much about just a light blue Shy Guy, or at least, it wouldn't be very interesting. Computer, let's get more specific!

Name: Walker Guy

Debut: Mario & Luigi: Dream Team

Now this is more like it! On his own, simply a light blue Shy Guy, but this one has a specific job that gives him a lot of character! This is cool. I wonder if we could get even MORE specific!

Name: Shysaac Guysfield

Occupation: Part-Time Dog Walker

Employer: Koopa Troop

Address: 19-87 Shell Street, Toad Harbor

Social Security Number:

AAAHHHH stop specifying stop specifying! I am so incredibly sorry to this poor Shy Guy I just accidentally doxxed in this live post performance. Please forget you saw that. Let's just go back to Walker Guy!

Have you ever wondered about Chain Chomps in terms of being Bowser's minions? They're not exactly sapient like most of the commonly antagonistic species. They're just dogs! I'm going to assume that like real big dogs, they just don't realize their own strength, and that's where the danger comes from. The danger is amplified when the dog is enormous, metal, and mostly mouth.

Looking at Walker Guy, I think we can safely say that Chain Chomps under Bowser's command are well taken care of! A whole specialized troop of Shy Guys exists to take them on walks, and ensure they are as happy and healthy as can be! These Shy Guys are all light blue, so maybe that is the Walker Guy Uniform. Maybe EVERY Shy Guy who wears light blue is primarily a Walker Guy, and you just often see them assigned to other, temporary jobs, or just out leisurely! There is no evidence to suggest the Light-Blue Shy Guy in Mario Kart is not a Walker Guy. Awesome! RPG characters playable in Mario Kart! This is what everyone has been wanting, right?

It seems that normally, Walker Guys will actually just let their assigned Chomps roam around freely, as they just sit on top, along for the ride. Hey! Keep your dog leashed at all times for the safety of it and those around it! I assume, though, that a Chain Chomp would not normally allow anyone to ride on top of it, and that this is a sign of immense trust between walker and Chomp. That's nice.

Walker Guys DO at least grab on to the leash when a battle begins. But that's dangerous, too! You should not bring your dog into a Turn-Based Battle! What, are you going to give your dog action commands? Gonna tell it to Sit and Give Me Your Paw?

It is really the Chomp who takes initiative in battle, and poor Walker Guy is dragged and flung around in all sorts of wacky ways. He takes no damage from these shenanigans, so we can all have a good laugh about it! Ha ha hee! What is less funny is that the Chain Chomp can be defeated individually, prompting the Walker Guy to frantically search for another one. What a horrible situation! You just killed his dog, and now, with no time to mourn, he has to immediately hope he can find another one so he doesn't lose his job. He is under so much stress! He also needs to pay off his mortgage! Toad Harbor isn't cheap!

So, if there are Shy Guys available to take Chain Chomps for walks, why are they so often seen bound to blocks and posts? There is a very simply explanation for that. Their respective Walker Guy just had to go to the bathroom! Every time you see a Chain Chomp tied to something, there is no need to assume it is being neglected. There is a light blue Shy Guy doing his business in the nearest restroom, and he will be back shortly! I promise. Don't wait for him, it makes him self-conscious and he'll take longer.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

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. 

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