#i need to know which writers need to square up

[tenebraevesper]

The Observations of Miraculous Ladybug: The Tales of Wasted Potential

This is a compilation of various rules and messages within and outside the Miraculous Ladybug universe that I had discovered while watching the show and participating in discussions over the years. I might write more of them, but for now, these are my current observations:

-If you’re the main heroine, you have no control over your emotions and you should be punished for even just breathing the wrong way.

-If you’re the main heroine, you need to be taught a lesson in every episode, regardless if it makes sense or the same lesson is being repeated ad infinitum.

-If you’re the main heroine, you’re not allowed to move on from your crush on the main hero, regardless of how much suffering you went through, because this action somehow breaks the rules of the universe.

-If you’re the main heroine, you’ll be subjected to shocking amounts of humiliation, emotional and physical abuse, all either for committing the crime of being a teenager or for “comedy” purposes. Sometimes its both.

-Obsessing over your crush is “funny” and it should be used to further humiliate the main heroine. Even better if it’s labeled as stalking.

-If you’re the main heroine, nobody cares about your mental health, regardless of how stressed out you are or if you’re close to a mental breakdown.

-If the Writers says only a year has passed in-universe, despite the contradictory evidence, then only a year has passed. Stop trying to make sense of the timeline because it is only supposed to make sense to the Writers.

-If you’re the main hero, look cute and wear a mask to hide your identity, you are free to harass the main heroine without being called out.

-Remember girls, telling the main hero “No!” or “I’m in love with someone else!” translates into “I’m playing hard to get”.

-No, the main heroine has no right to consent because the universe already paired her up with the guy who harasses her and still doesn’t understand that “No means no!”

-If you don’t obsess over your crush and think about them day and night, are you even in love with them?

-Unless you’re French and a Writer for Miraculous Ladybug, you have no right to criticize the show.

-Yes, that also goes for those who are professional Writers.

-Even if you have valid criticism backed up by proper arguments and are capable of discussing it in a civil manner, you will still be labeled as a hater and blocked.

-”Miraculous Ladybug is more popular than Pokémon!” [Source: Thomas Astruc]

-Everyone who doesn’t ship the Love Square is evil. No exception.

-If you’re a 14 year old teenage girl who was spoiled and emotionally neglected by her parents and your biggest crime was to bully people, you are irredeemable and deserve to burn in Hell.

-Somehow, a grown adult man who mentally, emotionally and physically abused his son, manipulated people into committing crimes, committed many acts of terrorism (including murder) and almost started WWIII on purpose is somehow more redeemable than a teenager who was manipulated and abused by said man.

-THE ABOVE POINT BEARS REPEATING!!! A TERRORIST IS MORE REDEEMABLE THAN AN ABUSED TEENAGER!!!

-Oh, and the terrorist also gets a statue in his honor and is remembered as a hero after his death.

-If you’re the main hero, you are perfect and the world is flawed and needs to bow to your whims.

-If you’re the main hero, you don’t need character development. All you have to do is to whine and complain, and the universe will bend backwards for you and deliver everything on a silver platter.

-If you’re the main hero, knowing the main heroine’s secrets (which aren’t even hers to share!) is more important than saving the people. Who cares if people are dying, you need to know what your crush/co-worker is hiding for you!

-No matter of bad your lies are, as the B villain of the show, you have the power to lower everyone’s IQ to the point they’ll believe your lies. Also, Google doesn’t exist.

-Even if you have legitimate evidence that the Liar is, y’know, lying, you will be labeled as jealous.

-I’m amazed that Lila isn’t ruling the world when she has the superpower of making everyone stupid beyond belief.

-Paris is apparently isolated in its own bubble and the French government doesn’t exist. How else do you explain a teenage girl becoming the Mayor of Paris?

-The police in Paris is useless. Unless you’re Asian. Then they’ll SWAT you.

-Every great teacher knows that you punish the victim and reward the bully.

-You don’t want to write character development because it’s “too hard”? Replace the character with a cardboard cutout that is just like that character but nicer and/or perfect. Nobody will notice the difference!

-If they do and complain about it, label them as haters.

-If you’re the main hero, you will always get away with lying and gaslighting the main heroine. She is not allowed to contradict you because the Writers said so. If she does, the fandom will grab their torches and pitchforks to hunt her down and punish her.

-Mary Suethor Writing Advice 101: To redeem your character, reward them with a girlfriend or boyfriend. No, they don’t have to go through a redemption arc. No, evil characters don’t get paired up with anyone.

-The main heroes are not allowed to progress the story at all. That is reserved for the very character Astruc hates so much that he replaced him with the main hero.

-Being a mentor sucks! That’s why you can unload all of your responsibilities on the main heroine, who didn’t even want to be the main heroine in the first place, and peace out.

-We are going to show you precisely why the Love Square doesn’t work and is actually very toxic, but we will also pretend that had never happened in favor of shilling the Love Square.

-If you’re the main hero, you’re free to break anything you come across in a fit of rage. Don’t worry, the main heroine will fix it for you.

-If you’re the main hero, you will be forgiven for cheating on your girlfriend with someone who wants nothing with you because your current girlfriend isn’t your true love.

-If you are the main hero and can’t get together with the girl you had been obsessing over for 100+ Episodes, drop her and start a relationship with the girl you completely ignored but is now available. She’s a good enough replacement.

-If a child is being abused and/or emotionally manipulated, you should place the blame on the child and not on the adult who manipulated/abused them.

-The Status Quo will be upheld regardless of how ridiculous the show is about upholding it. If it doesn’t make sense, then it’s your problem and the Writers aren’t too blame.

-If you’re the main hero, you will be forgiven for attempted murder/actual murder of several teenagers, but God forbid you don’t feel bad for almost murdering the main villain.

-If you’re the main hero and don’t try to murder the guy who made fun of your girlfriend, are you even in love?

-Toxic relationships should be admired and looked up to.

-Somehow, 5 Seasons of filler are considered more important and impactful than any actual story progression.

-Who needs lore and world-building? Let’s shove that sucker into a comic book no one will ever read.

-Common sense doesn’t exist in this world.

-Neither to therapists nor CPS.

-Falling in love and getting together with your love interest will result in the destruction of the world and you should be ashamed for thinking love was anything but destructive.

-The main villain will win.

-Let me repeat that: THE MAIN VILLAIN WILL WIN!

-If you’re an adult male and your OTP isn’t winning, you are free to assault a teenage girl and force her to be with the teenage boy you consider her ideal partner.

-If you’re the main hero and you have caused a huge problem (think “abandoning the city you were supposed to protect” or “murder a girl” type of problem), the solution to it is to abandon your partner and let her solve it for you. Don’t worry, you’re a Gary Stu, everyone will forgive you for your “mistakes” or completely gloss over them.

-Calling a liar out on their lies is hypocritical and you should be ashamed of yourself.

-You cannot consider yourself a best friend unless you have committed the following acts: intruding on your friend’s privacy and break her stuff, cause her emotional distress for your own validation, force her into a situation that causes her to freak out or get hurt and then scream at her for not following a plan you never told her about.

-Doing something innocent with your powers, like delivering a gift, will result in the end of the world.

-Somehow, a candy cane suit is considered stylish. Yeah, I still don’t understand how Gabriel is a fashion designer with that kind of taste in outfits.

-All female superheroes should have skintight suits with the camera focusing on their breasts/butt. Have I mentioned that they’re all minors?

-The main hero doesn’t have to participate in the finale. Him learning that his father was the main villain will ruin his perfect image of his family and that is not allowed. We need to mollycoddle him to death.

-Instead of developing your support characters, make them all collectively share a single braincell. Mob mentality at its best!

-Who needs depth when they all have the minimal requirement of one character trait?

-If you break up with your boyfriend, go for his identical cousin. They already look the same and the cousin at least has a spine. Win-Win!

-Any important plot points will be swept under the rug and be forgotten about.

-Félix is still the best character in this show! I will die on this hill!

-Somehow, a 3 minute PV!Trailer delivers more than 100+ episodes of the Miraculous Ladybug show.

-FanFic Writers do a better job at writing than professional Writers. That’s not an opinion, that’s a fact.

-You want to add to or remove something from the story, but it creates a plot hole? Just retcon it and lie to your audience that this was always your intention regardless if it makes sense in the narrative.

-If the fans question you about the retcons, call them haters and block them.

-”This is a kids show!” is a valid excuse for lazy writing, according to Miraculous Ladybug Writers (and some fans).

-Negative emotions are bad and will turn you into a monster. You are not allowed to feel angry or sad at all.

-Characters are not allowed to make logical decisions. That would make them *le gasp* competent!

-Every support character is obligated to worship the Love Square. If they don’t, they’re the spawn of Satan.

-Gaslighting your crush into bending over backwards to your whims is considered romantic.

-If you’re a superhero, you are considered a celebrity and have no rights to privacy. The whole population of Paris is entitled to know who you’re dating.

-Unless you’re the main heroine or the bully, you won’t be faced with the consequences of your actions.

-Yes, even the villain gets away without any consequences.

-Miraculous Ladybug is about spectacle over substance. Don’t expect anything resembling good writing. Or anything that requires to think about the plot more than five seconds.

-Somehow, a teenage boy who attempted to kiss the main heroine once and got punched by her is more demonized than the main hero who did the same for 100+ episodes and still doesn’t care that “No means no”.

-Character development is overrated. Same goes for any story progression.

-If you’re the main hero, you’re free to abandon your partner in a moment of crisis and shirk your responsibilities. You’ll still be forgiven and everyone will act as if nothing happened. Same goes for attempting to murder your partner’s best friend.

-Being a good parent involves emotionally neglecting your daughter and abandoning her, as well as punishing her by sending her to live with her abusive mother. You don’t have to take any responsibilities for your actions and you can easily replace the “evil” daughter with a “good” daughter who isn’t even related to you.

-You are not allowed to sympathize with an abused child, but it is a-okay to sympathize with the abuser.

-The main heroine will always be punished, whether she deserves it or not. She is obligated to solve everyone’s problems regardless whether they’re strangers to her.

-For some reason, disciplining the bully is the obligation of the victim rather than, oh, I dunno... the parents and the teacher!

-It doesn’t matter if you’re an abusive father and a terrorist, you’ll still be forgiven if you did it out of love for your wife.

-If you like a character, but the majority of the fandom hates them, you will be bullied to death (I’m serious about this, this has happened).

-Rather than developing established relationships, it is more fun to add unnecessary love interests to complicate things, only to drop them in the next episode with no development and act like nothing happened.

-If you’re the main heroine and asking for help from other superheroes because your own partner is ditching you for no given reason, then you’re cheating (yes, it was phrased like that) on your partner and you should be ashamed of yourself.

-I hate Kuro Neko. Adrien is insufferable in that episode.

-If someone tells you “they’re made for each other”, you need to accept that you’re destined to only be with that person and no one else. No, you have no say in that.

-”She’s just a friend” is not a valid excuse for being dense as a brick.

-Seriously, if anyone brings up those quotes again, I’ll hit them with a brick.

-If you are paired up with someone, you are not allowed to have a life outside your love interest. That goes especially for the Love Square.

-Everyone in this show is an idiot to some degree. Félix is the one who holds all of the braincells, while Lila learned to break the system and metagame.

-If you want a better show that focuses on magic and romance, go watch any mahou shoujo anime in existence and spare yourself the hours you’re gonna waste with this show.

-How Miraculous Ladybug Should’ve Ended? Félix dusts Gabriel in Emotion and tells Adrien and Marinette that Gabriel was the Monarch. End of story.

If you have made any observation, leave a comment about it in the replies, because I’m sure that I missed some.

#Ten's Thoughts #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug pv #ml salt #thomas astruc salt #ml fandom salt

[ridhearts]

can you tell my heart is speaking? {misc.}

@diodellet​ requested: how would these characters react to getting an anonymous love letter from their crush who, ~plot twist~ has really really illegible handwriting? (like doctor's penmanship but ramp it up by 200% hahaha) like who would try to deduce the sender's identity or who would mistakenly throw the love letter in the trash?

this was one of those requests where i read it and INSTANTLY got inspo - even though it ended up a little silly. i hope you like it!!

!! information !!

characters: ruggie + jamil + rook + lilia + sebek

reader: gn!

cw: none!

masterlists ⇿ requests

• • • • • • • Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie is one of the easier ones to slip a note when he’s unaware. Just ask if Crewel needs to bother Leona about retaking any tests, go tell Leona about these tests until he threatens to bite a piece of you off your body, then slip into Ruggie’s room and leave the note squarely on his pillow. Most of the guys in the dorm don’t care enough to watch the weird freshman and remember what they’re doing, or they just assume you’re dropping something off for Ruggie as you tend to do.

When Ruggie gets the letter, he at first thinks he’s too tired to read. But then he blinks a few times, holds the letter closer and further from his face, and realizes that, no, his vision is just fine. He’s just got a mysterious letter to figure out, on top of all his regular work. Now, he just has to figure out if it’s a ransom note or a love note…

His consideration of it being a love note is 100% a joke. He doesn’t mean it. But after checking all of his belongings (the stash is still meager, but it’s been growing substantially) and realizing nothing is missing, he crosses ransom off the list. So he starts wondering if he forgot to repay someone, or if somebody could be collecting an IOU. But the list of people he allows to hold favors over his head is notably short, and they all accuse him of trying to hasten the process of them deciding what to use him for when he asks them about leaving a message for him. Ok, so it’s not debt collection, either.

At lunch, Ruggie holds the note in the sun and turns it around in his hands. Some of the symbols actually look like words…written by the kids back home, of course. When he thinks about it like that, he can actually make out a few words: confess, his name, and…love??

OH. So he was right when he found the note. He laughs at himself then, and is thankful he chose to sit by himself in the courtyard today.

That makes narrowing down the suspects way easier. There’s only one person in this school who even pretends to like him, and luckily it’s the one person he doesn’t mind getting a love letter from. Yeah, he wishes he could actually read what you wrote, but something tells him he’ll hear it straight from the horse’s mouth soon enough.

Did you think he’d run straight to you like a lovesick prince and clear the air, saving you from your multi-day suffering of wondering why you haven’t heard a response? You’d be right! - well, partially, about him beelining for you. But you know he’s going to tease you for your handwriting, mentioning how some of the kids back home wrote better than you. Lucky for you…a lot of them can write so well because of him. He’s not the neatest writer out there, but you can READ his handwriting, which would be an improvement on your part.

Ruggie showing up at your door nearly gave you a heart attack, even though it was what you’ve been hoping for. You noticed instantly the piece of paper held in his hand, full of your deepest thoughts and feelings for him. But why did he look so confused?

“What does this say?” He immediately asked, not allowing you to get a word in. Your eyes darted from his face to the note, an embarrassed heat creeping up to your face.

“Uh. Well. If I wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t have written it out, you know?” 

Ruggie stared at you for a few moments before laughing, crumpling the paper in his hand as he did so. Your heart sank - was he really going to reject you in such a cruel manner?

“Listen up, prefect! I’m going to give you some lessons in penmanship,” He declared. “I used to teach some of the kids back home, so this should be a breeze.”

“Oh, okay,” You agreed, not wanting to sound too eager. You didn’t wanted to say it (out loud), but he got a million times cuter when he talked about the kids in his neighborhood. “But...what about the letter?”

“I can’t read it.” 

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry!” With the mischievous look on his face, you were suddenly reminded that Ruggie wasn’t simply some innocent underdog in the school just because he wasn’t one of the infamous overblots. “Your final exam will be rewriting it, and I’ll be watching you write every single word.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being flirty or mean, but your heart did somersaults anyway.

• • • • • • • Jamil Viper

Jamil is a difficult one to catch off guard, especially since (mostly unbeknownst to you) he has a crush on you, too. When you’re in the room, he finds himself watching you from the corner of his eye (or sometimes straight on during his less subtle days), noticing little things that only make him all the more wistful.

The one time he won’t do this is during basketball practice. This is for two reasons: one, he’d die of shame if he missed an easy shot because you were in the room, and two, he happens to be in a club with one of the people who would instantly blurt out any strange behaviors from him if spotted (Floyd). At least Kalim has the sense to stop talking when Jamil gives him a very pointed glare that would only encourage Floyd further.

So, as long as you rope Ace into your plans, talk to him by the bleachers for a second and sneakily place a letter on Jamil’s bag, he probably won’t even notice. And if your note is just on a piece of paper and not enveloped with stickers (please make it discreet, he would also DIE if he had a very obvious love letter on his stuff, regardless of who it’s from) then he won’t even suspect anything until he’s already reading the letter!

…unfortunately, Jamil can’t read the letter.

He tries! He really does! For about 30 seconds. Then he decides it can’t be deciphered and is probably a stray page of somebody’s notes that got stuck on his bag somehow. Ace, who is very aware of what it actually is, tries to casually question Jamil as he crushes it in his hands.

Jamil responds flippantly, saying he couldn’t make sense of it and it’s nothing any of them need to worry about. Before Ace can casually try to offer to decode some of it, Floyd takes that as an invitation to snatch the paper ball, shout a popular baseball player’s name out (nobody is sure if he chose a player of the wrong sport on accident or not), and throw it in the wastebasket across the room instead of the one right next to him. (It makes it! As the basketball club cheers Floyd on and Jamil rolls his eyes, Ace swallows nervously. He’s 90% certain that you just got rejected, hard.)

Ace not-so-subtly breaks the news to you the next day, and he winds up pulling Deuce into ‘Operation: Cheer Up The Prefect!” This involves ice cream (coincidentally they bring home more than you need in their own favorite flavors) and keeping you as far away from Jamil as possible. With how brutally Ace told the story, you’re positive you’d die of embarrassment if you had to meet him face-to-face.

But Ace notices during practice one day that Jamil keeps staring at him. When they take a water break, Ace almost implodes in relief when he’s finally approached.

“Hey, Ace. Is anything wrong with the prefect?”

“You care?” Ace asked, purposely taking the bite out of his words. 

“Well...” Jamil shoves his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt - sweat tank? - and looks to the side, as if choosing his words carefully. “Kalim was planning another party, and I need to know if they’re sick or anything so he doesn’t get sick.”

“Oh. Yeah, they’re fine.” Well, as much as he hates it, Ace feel sorry for you. This guy is ruthless. But he can’t just leave it at that - he’s gonna get you closure, whether you wanted him to or not. “Hey, what did you make of that weird letter on your backpack the other day?”

“You still remember that? It was a piece of-” Jamil stopped, looking right at Ace. Shrinking away, Ace watched Jamil as his eyes shifted slightly, trying to figure out if Ace was messing with him. “What do you mean, a letter?”

“...I may or may not know the basics of what it said. And could’ve read it. Because I know who wrote it. And I can read their handwriting.”

Jamil’s eye twitched once as he started to connect the dots. He looked more annoyed than horrified, which Ace couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. “This letter is sensitive in nature if you only know the basics of what it said, and it just so happened to be the event right in between the prefect talking to me every day to avoiding me when ‘they’re fine?’ Did I get that right?”

Ace laughed nervously. “They don’t call Scarabia one of the smartest dorms for nothing...”

“Sevens,” Jamil cursed, turning on his heel. He was out the door before anybody could ask him what he was doing, but Ace figured out where he was headed. You were in for quite the surprise. To walk out like that...Jamil must really like you.

Gross.

• • • • • • • Rook Hunt

Epel tried to fight you tooth and nail when you asked him to deliver the letter. However, after several rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors and even more accusations of you cheating, Epel finally (and begrudgingly) agreed to be your mailman. If Vil wasn’t in the room when he delivered it, he would’ve just tossed it at Rook and been done with it. However, he handed it over with as much grace as he could, listened to Vil’s curt corrections, and scurried out of the room (while Vil called out something against said scurrying.)

Rook knew exactly who wrote the letter as soon as he saw the first word. With handwriting as unique as yours, how could he not? You thought you could hide it when romance seized you so wholly you couldn’t help but express it in written words? How foolish!

Rook began giggling like a madman, and eventually, Vil’s curiosity got the better of him. “What do you have there?”

“It seems the little lovebird has finally decided to sing their song!” Rook exclaimed. Vil wasn’t sure if he’s ever seen such pure glee before.

“Ah, of course. Any highlights?” Code for give me the details, please!

“I would tell you, but I’m afraid I can’t read a single word.”

“Huh?!?” They don’t talk about the utterly disgraceful noise that left Vil’s mouth at that.

See, Rook knows what he received through deduction alone. He’s been expecting you to make a move for some time now, actually! And while he’s touched by what you decided, it’s such a shame that your feelings didn’t break through like you thought they might! Fortunately, Rook gets told he speaks cryptically all the time, so he can play your little game with you if you’d like.

Suddenly, you have Rook trailing you even more than usual, spouting long, wordy praises(?) and sonnets that put Shakespeare to shame. He uses excessively flowery prose and more dramatics than usual, so what little words you catch just don’t make any sense. You enjoy the show, and you’re happy to see he hasn’t rejected you entirely, but you’re also completely lost on any progress you thought you would’ve made with the letter.

Rook has had his fun. Now, it was time for the moment you’ve certainly been waiting for - he was going to answer your feelings and return them in full!

With the recent theatrics, he decided a simple flower and a knock on your door would be enough to express how genuine he was being. After all, he didn’t want to overwhelm you entirely and have you doubting him! So he knocked on your door between the end of classes and dinner, certain you’d be winding down from the day and have a second to spare.

When you opened the door, Rook bowed and offered the flower in his hand to you. “Ah, mon cœur, how lovely it is to see you again. I’ve come to officially accept your feelings and see...if you might be interested in pursuing a relationship with me? You know I do love a good pursuit.”

You took the flower cautiously, an eyebrow raised. “But I thought..”

“Hm?”

“Oh! Nothing.”

“No, no! Do not be keeping secrets from me already!” Rook lamented, straightening his posture and grabbing your hands in his. “Tell me what it is that confuses you.”

“Well...” All of a sudden, you were feeling very embarrassed and sort of like a fool. “I guess, when you started with all the poems every day, I kinda thought...that meant we already were in a relationship?”

Rook blinked at you, unable to hold back his singular laugh. “My feelings are as strong as they have always been. I could feel the passion in your letter, I could see the love-”

“You couldn’t read the letter, could you?” You sighed. “Grim warned me this might happen...”

But Rook, thoroughly amused with the situation, only brought your hands to his face and pressed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Perhaps we are soulmates, then, if we so thoroughly understand each other with such indirect communication.”

• • • • • • • Lilia Vanrouge

Are you confessing to Lilia via letter because it’s old fashioned and romantic, or because you’re scared? As you walk up the hill to the front door of Diasomnia, you still can’t figure out the answer for yourself.

If you know Lilia well enough to even considering there’s a CHANCE at a successful confession, you’ve definitely picked up on how he’s much…more than he leads on. Even if you didn’t know him that well, with the way everybody who knows him respects and admires him, you’d have to be stupid not to know SOMETHING was hiding beneath those “innocent, adorable eyes” and those “boyish good looks” and his “smooth, youthful cheeks.” (All, of course, are direct observations made by the fae himself.) So perhaps the chance at being gently let down is greater than you’d hoped, but certainly you’re trying to appeal to his more private side, right?

You approach the door, stand frozen in front of it, and slip the envelope with his name beneath the door before hurrying away. Okay, you wrote your confession because you were scared.

Lilia allows you to leave the dimension of his dorm before curiously picking up the letter. You aren’t very good at hiding your tracks, but against fae, most humans aren’t. He smiles at the hearts you’ve drawn on the envelope, carefully peeling off any stickers to keep. What a sweet way of telling him things he already knows.

Oh, he doesn’t mean to be demeaning! You’re simply so cute, it’s hard for him not to coo over every little thing you do! He’s been carefully tiptoeing around the subject for ages, but if you were brave enough to confess to him first…perhaps it’s time for him to truly confront the feelings that have been building ever since he met you. You are strange, and you are reckless, and you are oh so dear to him. It couldn’t hurt to at least see where a relationship would go within the year, right?

(Read: Lilia has some hangups about the difference in your lifespans, but fae aren’t exactly known to be selfless creatures. Lilia doesn’t hoard jewels and gold so much as he does the people he holds close to his heart, so it was really only a matter of time before you found yourself by his side anyway.)

Of course, even if Lilia can read the letter just fine, he has to have some fun with it! The hope and apprehension in your eyes when he meets you next is too enjoyable not to toy with, just a little. So, instead of asking you to dinner, Lilia asks if you need help with your unit on hexes and curses. Confused, you cautiously agree and suddenly, instead of a date, you have a two-person study group. At least he’s not avoiding you completely?

Lilia has you carefully drawing out the symbols in your textbook while he watches with his sharp eyes. You’re almost positive he’s leaning too close to you on purpose, and you’re 100% sure he’s being such a perfectionist just so he can fluster you more. When he purposely puffs a little air on your neck just as you’re finishing this round of symbols, making you jolt and mess up an otherwise perfectly straight line, Lilia clicks his tongue and begins to tell you to start again. You interrupt him.

“You’re being weird again.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” You respond, turning to face him. Ah, right, he never backed away and now your faces were inches apart. Leaning back, you turned your head and huffed. Normally you’d find this endearing, but now you were beginning to feel like a toy. “What’s with this whole studying thing, anyway? I never mentioned having trouble in class. Actually, I’m doing just fine.”

“And yet you accepted my help anyway?” Your face began to heat up. Lilia backed away to give you your space again. “No, I just thought I might help you, since whatever curse you slipped underneath my door was absolutely abysmal.”

“Curse?”

“I’ve gotta say, though, hearts are a strange choice of rune...”

“Oh,” Your face got hotter, and you sighed. “Listen, Lilia, if I overstepped...”

Before you could finish, Lilia leaned in again, one hand on the back of your chair and the other on the table. You weren’t caged in at all, but you felt as if leaving would be a big mistake - not that you wanted to, of course. Lilia was smiling, the carefully constructed way someone does when they’re waiting to prove you wrong.

“Don’t say that, little one. It appears I’m the one that overstepped. I only meant to tease you a bit, that’s all. I never meant to imply I wasn’t interested.”

• • • • • • • Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek’s eyes have been on you all day (more than usual). Lilia joyfully proclaims that he has “‘got it bad,’ as the youth are now saying,” but Sebek knows it’s deeper than that. Sebek knows you are planning something.

You and your two friends (which, now that he’s got suspicions, he refuses to admit are also his friends) have been hunched over something, whispering conspiratorially and laughing all day. What’s more is that the Young Master has been hanging around you at night more and more frequently. Dots are connecting in Sebek’s head, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Before he can best decide how to confront you, you leave with your little entourage. But what’s this? Upon closer inspection, Sebek realizes you’ve left behind a piece of paper. He scans it closely, once, twice, then realizes…

YOU’RE PLOTTING AGAINST THE YOUNG MASTER AND WRITING YOUR PLANS IN A SECRET CODE?!?!

Sebek is beside himself with grief, fury, and shock at your audacity. At your betrayal!! How could a human such as yourself - weak and simple-minded and kind and attractive and determined - stoop to such lows?! This isn’t right! It keeps him awake at night, and he decides the next morning that he must confront you before you do something you cannot undo.

You hear loud, aggressive banging on your door far earlier than Ace and Deuce ever arrive at your dorm. Excitedly sending the two a text saying Sebek is right on time, you jump down the stairs and try not to be too excited. After straightening yourself out one final time, you take a deep breath and open the door.

...Only to see a very frantic Sebek?

“HUMAN.” His voice is loud as always, but it almost sounds more tense than usual. You’re thankful Grim is the only other one in the dorm who sleeps, otherwise you’d have some very angry roommates right about now. “What is it that you’re planning?!”

“What am I planning?” You repeated. This was not how you were hoping this conversation would go.

“Don’t act like I haven’t seen you and the others plotting in the shadowed corners of the school!” From his pocket, Sebek presents your letter and waves it in front of your face. “I know this is a secret code, and I know you’ve got something nefarious up your sleeves!”

“What? I don’t-” You grab his wrist to stop his waving, only to look past the paper and see him so worked up, he’s got tears in his eyes.

“If you denounce all your evil plans to me right now, I’ll let you off with a warning! As a future knight of the young master, I really shouldn’t be making such deals, but-” And he cuts himself off, like the emotion is too much for him to handle. It’s almost sweet, how he offers up his integrity just to keep you afloat. Or maybe he’s finally accepted that Malleus actually likes you and would miss you if Sebek were to chase you away. It was hard to tell.

What wasn’t hard to tell was how distressed Sebek is, so you took the paper out of his hands and look at it. Deuce did warn you that your handwriting was rather messy. It would make sense that he couldn’t read it. How he got this idea in his head, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to watch him suffer for much longer.

“You figured me out, Sebek,” You responded sadly. Sebek looked absolutely scandalized. “I wanted to leave the young master vulnerable, so I was trying to take out the rising star that would one day defend him.”

“And how did you plan to do that?” Sebek scowled at you. You heaved a dramatic sigh.

“...You. I was trying to take you out.” For the effect, you paused for a moment before continuing. “On a date, actually. This isn’t a plan written in code, it’s a love letter.”

Sebek stared at you before clearing his throat. “OH.”

It was going to take a while to sink in and even longer to convince him, you could tell. You ushered him to your couch before he could faint.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #awww yiss princess and the pauper title #i think......listen mon coeur is the best french pet name imo #but i also think he'd call yuu lovebird it's SO cute that's what i want #also i like to clown on sebek but i promise i do adore him. he's sweet #he's just also fun to mess with

[buckets-and-trees]

Perfectionists

Title: Perfectionists Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: SHIELD Games is behind one of the best MMORPGs on the market. SHIELD stays on top because of the super employees they have across the board from the tech innovation department, to the story writers, to their game engineers - including one Bucky Barnes. It's his perfection that has pushed him into this position at an elite place in the industry, period. But one game tester always seems to find the most frustrating things to send back to him.

Content/Concept Warnings: Gamer AU; strong language; explicit smut: oral - male receiving, mild dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, genital sex, voyerism, masturbation

Notes: TRIPLE THREAT SUBMISSION for @buckybarnesevents WEEK THREE of Hot Bucky Summer: "Where do you want me?", my fifth square of @buckybarnesbingo B5: "Playing Games," and my third square for Connect4 Alternate June-iverse: C1 "Gamer."

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Bucky looked up as he heard Steve’s telltale footsteps – not the normal ones – the trepidatious ones.

“No,” he said, tone stone cold.

Steve stopped a few steps away and sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“How long is the list?”

“Buck.”

Bucky shook his head and pushed away from his desk. “You know what? No. I don’t even want to see it.”

He stormed out of the engineering and design lab, and Steve dropped his head back to look at the ceiling.

Sam chuckled. “I told you, man, you should wait until he’s out of the room to bring in new lists of purgatory for perfection.”

“He never takes a break. None of you take breaks,” Steve said.

“'Attitude reflects leadership, Captain.'"

"Don't quote Remember the Titans at me."

“Barnes just needs to fuck her.”

Steve’s head snapped over to Nat. “You know what, Romanoff?”

“She’s right,” Joaquin added without looking up from his screen, but a smirk on his face none the less. “His blood has been boiling for her for months, it’s about time he stops ignoring that.”

“Shit, Barnes!” you yelped, clutching your heart with one hand and an energy drink in the other. “Anyone ever tell you not to lurk in the dark?”

“I’m not lurking,” he groused.

“What else do you call lying in wait to confront someone? Especially in the dark? Alone? Leaning up against the wall, no less.”

You knew you were far from the only person in the building, but this late at night, you were the only tester still around and usually had this wing of the offices to yourself. This was a side gig for you, you only did it because you loved the game and loved getting to preview things before it was even sent to the beta test group of users, but that meant you usually only crossed paths with the handful of other official tester employees for SHIELD Games like ships passing in the night who basically clocked normal business hours.

“I don’t see you turning on any lights,” he said as you returned to your preferred spot on the couch.

“I prefer to play by glow of television,” you responded with a dramatic tone.

If Bucky rolled his eyes, you didn’t see it. “It’s how I’d be playing at home, keeps me focused so I can help you do your job.”

Which is why he was here confronting you, as you had so aptly noted. “I’m damn good at what I do.”

“And the only reason you hate my lists is because you’re already a god damn perfectionist so you can’t stand when I point out the flaws you missed or suggestions to make your work even better. But that’s why Maria hired me. Your community manager knew the user feedback I was giving when you launched the game was excellent.”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms.

“Your game is only perfect after they put it in front of my face, Barnes.”

“Shut up.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Make me,” you said and took a swig of your energy drink.

Bucky pushed off the wall and in three swift, silent steps was in front of you. With your head tilted back as you drank, you only saw him when he leaned forward, looming over you. You spluttered a little, and he smirked.

“You won’t be able to talk with this in front of your face,” he said, opened the front of his jeans, and pushed the denim and his boxers down his thighs in one go.

You would have roasted him for saying something so cliché in any other circumstance. But your brain was short-circuiting, and you were trying to rapidly re-establish the connections.

His right hand took the can out of your grasp and set it on the side table next to the couch, and his left hand cradled your chin, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

You looked up at him. Your heart was racing, and your pussy was thrumming. You were not certain this was real. He’d been the quiet one, a bit surly, but you had been surprised enough he’d come to confront you about the feedback in the first place and never would have put a penny on the odds of something like this happening with the gorgeous game designer you’d harbored a bit of a crush on but decided after the first week wouldn’t come to anything.

This was an unexpected side quest.

You nodded.

He pushed the tip to the edge of your lips, your tongue slipped out to circle the head. In one swift motion he gripped the back of your head and thrust his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, and your hands flew up to hold onto his hips.

He used your mouth with abandon, and the hold of your hands on his hips was firm, encouraging. When you choked on his thick member, he slowed for a moment, then you squeezed his hip, and he speed up to his brutal pace again. This happened twice more, you having taken him deeper in your throat each time. Tears streamed down your face now, and he groaned when he looked down at you.

“You look so god damn beautiful,” he couldn’t help saying.

You whimpered, and he swept a thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears, then brought them to his mouth.

He could feel the build of his climax at the root of him, and pulled out of your mouth abruptly, knowing he was too close to finishing and not ready for this to come to an end yet.

You fell forward, but he was instantly kneeling in front of you, ready to catch your lips with his. The kiss was hungry, and your mouth full of the taste of him made him groan again. Your hands tangled in his hair, slotting in despite being pulled back in a low bun. His hands had returned to hold your head as commandingly as they had when he was fucking your throat – one in your hair, one along your jaw.

When you were absolutely breathless, you finally pulled away.

Foreheads planted against each other, breaths still mingling, you licked your lips.

“Why don’t I show you what these hands can do?” he asked, one hand falling to your hip, rubbing his thumb down the crease of your thigh toward your core.

“Don’t tease.”

“Oh, no,” he agreed. Then with both hands, he pulled your hips to the edge of the cushion, hooked his fingers into the top of your pants, and peeled them down along with your panties. You pushed up to raise your hips so he could remove them completely, but your efforts were hardly needed as he used one hand to push you up, and the small show of unexpected strength made your insides squirm. He was built – you had seen it – but you hadn’t experienced the reality of it.

Bucky didn’t leave you a second to think about it any further as his fingers slid up and down your wet slit, he spread your outer folds and stroked your soft inner folds, and you moaned. Your eyes slipped shut, but you felt him watching your face. He was watching for how you reacted to each of his ministrations. He pinched your clit, and you yelped.

Your eyes flew open, and you saw his were filled with a mischievous glint. “Just testing all the possibilities,” he said.

You hit his shoulder. “I said no teasing!”

“You always want the experience to have more unexpected elements for the user to play with.”

“Bucky!” You did not want to hear one of your recent lines of feedback recited back to taunt you.

Except you did.

He was playing this game so well.

He slipped two fingers from that large, warm hand of his inside your cunt and began to pump. Your eyes melted closed again, and seemingly satisfied with his study, you felt Bucky claim your lips for more kisses while he pulled you closer and closer to an orgasm. It built steadily, his thumb at your clit, fingers in your channel, but when he curled those fingers and found the spongy spot against your pubic bone, it hit you instantly, and you cried out his name. He pulled your head into the crook of his neck while his other hand slowed in your cunt but helped prolong riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Satisfactory experience?” he asked once your breathing started to return to normal.

You laughed against his shoulder, then pulled back to look at him. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and he smiled.

“You know, I wasn’t afraid to poke the bear because you’re brilliant, I knew you could take it. You want to be the best, and I help give you that.” You reached down and took his still hard, leaking cock in your soft hands, and Bucky’s breath hitched. “Now, do you want to let me take you? I’m aching for you to fill me up.”

He groaned. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You nipped at his bottom lip and smirked. “Yes, I can. This company values my direct and honest feedback.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Where do you want me?”

Bucky quickly shoved his jeans all the way down his legs and settled down next to you on the couch, legs spreading wide. “In my lap.”

“Sounds just about right,” you said, straddling him.

His eager hands pulled your slick cunt flush against his groin, and you both moaned. You planted your hands on his broad shoulders, and rocked your hips just a little bit. Even that short back and forth of friction, his cock stroking your engorged clit, had your head falling back. Bucky pressed his lips to the column of your throat, not wasting an opportunity so inviting in the moment. You sighed and held his head to your neck where he continued to explore and mark you with slow, hot kisses, finding the places that made you shiver.

While you were lost in those sensations, Bucky reached down and lined his cock up with your slit, but that brought you back to the thrumming need to be filled by him, and you sunk down while he thrust up into you. He was thick, and he filled you more than you were used to, but not to a point of pain -far, far from it.

“Feel so good inside me,” you keened.

“No feedback?”

“Just fuck me until I can’t breathe, Buck.”

“With pleasure,” he growled.

After passing through two intense first levels of play, climbing to the final peak did not take long. One of his hands remained anchored at your hip to control the punishing but desired pace of thrusts, but his other steadily slid underneath your shirt and up your spine in a delicate way in contrast to everything else happening in the moment, including your lips returning to his in another kiss designed to devour.

Bucky felt you hit that crest of the climax, your muscles seizing in a moment of bliss, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. As you came down, he maneuvered you both to lay your back on the couch while he did just as you asked and continued to thrust into you hard, you boneless but in a blissful haze, unconcerned with trivial things like breathing, while he pursued his own pleasure. Then all at once he groaned and began to spill his hot seed inside of you, pausing for a second with the first ropes of cum, but then continued with deep, slow thrusts until he was completely spent.

It was a snug shuffling, but the two of you managed to get so you were both laying on your sides on the couch, your back up against the cushioned backboard, Bucky’s back to the glow of the giant television screen so all his muscled angles were sillhouted for you to admire in the afterglow. His legs were bunched up – possibly uncomfortably – and you tangled yours with his. You pushed some hair that had escaped from its knot at the back of his head off of his face, and he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm.

“I think we’ll need to continue testing this,” you whispered against his lips.

You felt them curve into a smile before he said, “Thorough testing, absolutely. Need to explore all potential scenarios.”

“I’m glad you’ll be more amenable now to my feedback.”

“Oh, I never said that.”

You poked him in the ribs.

“Come on, you love the complex storylines. You don’t want me easily conquered.” And before you could protest, and claimed your lips again, this time in a long, slow kiss, no intention of leaving any time soon.

Too caught up with each other, neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, the gasp on discovering you, the moans they bit back when they gave over to touching themselves there in the dark, watching you, or their nearly silent retreat.

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #hotbuckysummer2023 #connect4au #gamer au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #female reader #reader insert #x reader #x reader smut #x reader stories #aspen wrote something

[arabellavernierwrites]

doctor’s orders. s.r.

summary : you return home to find your boyfriend sick on the couch , you’re more than happy to take care of him.

word count : 796

warnings : mentions of illness

a/n : hello ! so wonderful to see you again. thank you so much for all of the incredible support you all have been continuing to show me. as a writer , each and every single read means so much to me. hearing what some of you have to say about my work genuinely has me over the moon. i have been thinking a lot about what i want to write next , so if you have any ideas of requests , please send them ! my ask as well as messages are open for anyone who wants me to write anything for you ! it would make me so happy to do so. again, thank you so much for the continued support. have an incredible , amazing , wonderful day ! love you all !

you had arrived home from the grocery store earlier than anticipated. on your rare day off, you decided to catch up on some much-needed housework. restock the fridge, fix the sink’s squeaky handle, and clean every square inch of the place.

an armful of bleach, lysol, and mr clean awaited you. as lame as it sounded, these were the kinds of days that you looked forward to. clean house, clean mind, you always said.

you unlocked the front door, teetering bags of groceries in hand. you nearly tripped over your boyfriend’s giant shoes in the doorway. you frowned, puzzled. spencer must’ve been home early as well.

“spencer?” you called out, setting your gathering of groceries on the kitchen counter.

“hi,” a small voice called out from the couch.

everything he had brought to work that day was now strewn across the living room and kitchen. his shoes, sweater, and satchel littered the floor. his badge and gun were tossed on the coffee table, and his body was lazily thrown on the cushions beneath him. he was a mess. which for spencer reid, was out of character.

“you’re home early,” you smiled, kicking your shoes off as you approached him.

“it was hotch, he sent me home. i don’t feel very well,” he complained, rolling his head in your direction.

you kneeled next to him, gently brushing his hair out of his face, “poor thing, your head is warm”.

“my body aches,” he scrunched his eyebrows together, something he often does when experiencing discomfort.

“well, let’s get you out of those clothes and into bed. you need sleep,” you stood up, reaching out to pull him off the couch.

“i can do it, i don’t want you to get sick too,” he groaned, letting you handle most of the lifting.

“dr reid clocked out when you left work, i’m the doctor now. and you need to get your ass in bed. doctor’s orders,” you ordered, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him to the bedroom.

spencer leaned heavily on you “yes ma’am”.

you sat him on the edge of the mattress, filing through the stacks of folded clothing in his drawers. after sorting through his organized wardrobe, you picked out a t-shirt and pair of pajama pants for him to put on. unsure of whether or not he needed assistance, you let him begin to dress himself.

standing with slightly wobbly legs, he winced as he slowly slid his clothes off.

“you’re sure you didn’t get hit by a bus on the way to work?” you asked, observing his unsteady movements.

“it feels like i did,” he responded, pulling the on pajama pants you picked for him.

he was doing well, but started noticeably slumping over from the effort it took to change out of his professional attire.

“are you hungry? i just went to the store,” you asked, grabbing his shirt from the bed, “sit down”.

“not yet, i think i need to lie down first,” he reached out, placing a hand on the side of your thigh, “thank you”.

despite making an effort to not let anyone know, spencer adored being cared for. he loved when you combed his hair or shaved his face, or applied little dots of moisturizer to his face when getting ready for bed. whatever it was, he treasured you looking after him.

you put his shirt over his head, raising his arms through each hole, “i’ll make you some soup whenever you’re ready”.

spencer stood up as you pulled the comforter down. he climbed in and groaned, trying to make himself comfortable.

after moving around a bit, he finally settled.

you gently pushed his hair from his eyes, your hand settling on his cheek, “get some sleep. i’ll be putting groceries away”.

he nodded and you kissed him on the head before you left.

hours had passed.

spencer passed out quickly, hardly even tossing and turning as he slept. organizing everything from the store, cleaning most of the house, and watching a movie had kept you occupied for a while. the second movie of the night was playing as you stretched yourself out on the couch.

the sound of the bedroom door creaking open caught your attention. you turned your head to see spencer emerging from the doorway.

“can i join you?” he asked, standing off to the side of the television.

“come here, baby,” you opened your arms to gather him.

he lied down between your legs, softly resting his head on your lap as he wrapped his long arms around your torso.

kneading your fingers through his hair, you stopped to set your hands between his shoulder blades, “i thought you didn’t want to get me sick”.

you felt him smile against your leg, “doctor’s orders”.

#criminal minds #criminal minds blurb #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #kind spencer reid #loving spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid boyfriend #caring spencer reid #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid / reader #spencer reid sick #sick spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds / reader #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid hurt/ comfort

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

I’m having a lot of thoughts about super protective Steve right now, but I’m also having a lot of writer’s block so I don’t have the energy to actually set the whole scene.

I need Billy and Steve delivering pizzas and snacks to The Party (including the Corroded Coffin guys) to wherever they’re holding their campaign. Maybe somewhere in the woods because it’s aesthetic and the weather is nice, like out by Castle Byers.

The kids are fine with Harringroveson for the most part by now, though a couple of them (namely Dustin) don’t always get along the best with Billy. He tries really hard so it’s getting better, but progress is slow. He’s still detested by the Corroded Coffin guys (namely Gareth).

I love the misunderstood character trope for some reason. I love the idea of other characters hating Billy’s image, the idea of him, but when they get to know him as more than the asshole jock they peg him as, they realize he isn’t all that bad.

Maybe Gareth makes one too many comments about not wanting Billy there. Calls him an asshole and provokes him with the intention of validating his own perception of the blond. Maybe even goes as far as to insinuate that the only reason Eddie or Steve are with him is because of his looks. Something mean that’s said in a teasing tone, but hits just as hard despite it.

Billy doesn’t react with white hot rage like everyone’s expecting. He turns away and walks through the woods back to the car with a look of shame on his face, and Steve immediately jogs to catch up with him, lacing their fingers together as they weave through the trees.

Eddie stands there anxiously, wondering if he should follow them or if it’ll overwhelm his already upset boyfriend. He turns back to the group and looks pointedly at Gareth. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Which some could argue is worse.

“C’mon, man,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely. “You couldn’t be cordial until they left? He didn’t even do anything.”

“Made ‘em leave faster, didn’t it?”

Gareth’s tone is less sure than before, because after all, he isn’t a malicious person at his core. He’s clearly at odds with himself about hurting Billy’s feelings — he didn’t even think it was something that could happen.

Eddie just shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, you’ve poked the bear, so now shit’s gonna get testy.”

“What, like—“ Gareth gulps and his eyes blow wide. “Like Hargrove’s gonna kick my ass or something?”

At the words, Eddie laughs. Crosses his arms and sobers when he hears twigs crunch in the distance, a set of footsteps approaching once again.

“Not Billy,” Eddie whispers.

As if on queue, Steve emerges from between the trees. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are squared. He gets eyes on Gareth before anything else, which has him scurrying up out of his seat on the floor. Ready to bolt.

Steve stops beside Eddie. Shrugs his hand off of his shoulder when Eddie sets it there and points an accusatory finger at Gareth. The movement makes him flinch even though he’s still a handful of feet away.

“I dunno what your fucking problem is, but you don’t say shit like that about my boyfriend when I’m around, you hear me?” Steve seethes. He eyes Gareth up and down like he’s sizing him up before he simply tsks and shakes his head. “You can find your way home in the dark for all I care, so don’t bother asking for a ride when the game’s over.”

He stares until Gareth nods, at which point some of the rage relaxes out of him. Only slightly.

Then he turns to Eddie.

“Get on the radio when you’re done?” he says much more softly. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him home.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, but you know how he is.”

Eddie nods and cracks a smile.

“Big ol’ softie.”

“Mhmm.”

Steve mirrors his expression. Leans in for a quick kiss, then casts Gareth a final glare before he takes his leave.

Once he’s gone, Eddie huffs a laugh and intertwines his fingers over the back of his head.

“Jesus. Give him a while, he’ll get over it,” he dismisses. Glances over at Gareth, who looks about as startled as a mouse that’s been dropped into a snake pit. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I dunno, you could probably speed up the process by making Billy a cake or something.” When Gareth furrows his eyebrows, Eddie shrugs and laughs again. “I’ve never pissed Steve off that bad, but I have hurt Billy’s feelings before. My boy loves him some chocolate cake.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

They wind up having to wrap the game up faster than they anticipated, because the nice weather becomes a drizzle which becomes a pour.

Steve goes against his word and gives Gareth a ride home.

The next day, he’s standing on their porch with a Tupperware container full of chocolate cupcakes that say srry 4 b-ing an a-hole in blue icing on top.

Billy immediately shoves one into his mouth and Steve reluctantly forgives Gareth, meanwhile Eddie is laughing his ass off because he didn’t really expect him to take his suggestion seriously.

#harringroveson #steddilly #metalsandwich #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #Billy being soft at heart is my dearest hc #also I love the idea of Steve actually being the mean and scary one of the three of them #because he’s the least suspecting #give me more pissed Steve #drabble #my writing #rushed bc I don’t have it in me to make a whole thing out of it #so you get my unedited thoughts <3 #billy antis dni #also not a Gareth hate post I just think he’s a dick the same way Eddie’s a dick #they’re both obnoxious assholes

[seasidepierre]

how about tink and charles blurb about the bee hotels - i feel like seb would be grinning so much about it all and tink would be filming everything 🐰

If there was one thing Seb that missed about Formula 1, it probably was the way Charles was still hanging over every of your words and moves. You’d just be breathing and he’d be there, thinking you’re the absolute best at doing so. It was hilarious and endearing, reminding him of how much of a sap he was back then when he met his now wife and the mother of his children. He must have been just as bad. You had arrived in the team right at the same time as Charles, only a few months later. Same age as him, young and full of life, unable to sit still for more than fifteen minutes, but with an overflowing passion that felt like a tidal wave most of the time. It had been a huge pleasure for Seb to watch you come up with ideas for the Ferrari socials and growing into your job, that he still sometimes felt like you might have been too young to be thrown into that quickly. There had been that sense of protection that he couldn’t have ignored when it came to you and Charles, which truly had meant more to you two than he ever thought it would.

Needless to say, on the rare occasions Seb came back to the paddock after his retirement, he made sure to visit his two favourite people and tease them to no end about their change of relationship status that he called for since they met, pretty much.

So in Japan, when an invitation was issued to the Ferrari lineup and com team to decorate and inaugurate the buzzing corner, you were sure to be up for more teasing, which didn’t wait too much to arrive because as soon as Seb saw you, he was on it.

“Tink!” He yelled at you, sweeping you in his arms to squeeze the life out of you. “How are you doing, little fairy?” “I’m doing amazing,” you giggled. “How are the kids?” “They’re doing great! Look, the girls made me bracelets!”

Seb proudly showed off the black and yellow bracelets branded with letter beads that spelled “Papa” which made you grin even bigger.

“Where’s your shadow? Peter Pan is still looking for it?” Seb smiled. “He’s coming, you know how he is with his hair when it’s not exactly like he wants it to be.” “Heh, he has to be handsome for you,” Seb shrugged, a teasing grin on his lips. “He doesn’t need anymore, he’s already secured the deal, we’ve signed a new contract just a few months ago,” you joked.

Charles made it just in time for the small drive around that Seb had organised, so he could proudly show the work he had done for his little buzzing corner. The bee hotels looked incredible and if you trusted the whole installation around, you knew you were up for a good time to inaugurate this new and special place. You took heaps of photos and videos of the Ferrari boys painting their canvas and bee hotel, made sure you had plenty of content to post and finally, finally, came to a stop when Seb came by to check on Ferrari’s bee hotel.

“You guys did a pretty good job,” he smiled at Charles. “Heh, we tried our best,” he blushed. “I feel like you had an advantage, because you had literal Tinkerbell to help you out,” he smirked and grabbed you for a quick side hug. “I barely did anything.”

Charles grinned at you, in that very Charles way he had when he looked at you and Seb couldn’t help laughing at him a little. It had always been so obvious, it shouldn’t have taken that long for the two of you to finally get it together.

“You do realise I made that happen,” Seb proudly announced, grabbing Charles on his other side. “You did not,” Charles huffed. “I didn’t lose so many challenges on purpose for you to look good to her, just so you could downplay it three years later.” “I beat you fair and square!” Charles gasped. “Nah, you won because I knew it’d mean Tink here would look at you like you were a champion,” the former racer admitted. “I also may have dropped so many hints that she actually liked you back, I’m surprised it took you so much time to finally understand!” “You didn’t know,” it was your turn to huff and blush. “I knew from the moment you two met.” “I call bullshit!” “Call it as you wish, but I knew,” Seb laughed. “Jokes aside.. I’m really happy for you two, you know?” “We know,” you smiled, dropping your head against Seb’s shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of us for that long.” “My pleasure.. Now.. Who’s gonna tell me why that prancing horse looks so ugly?” “Charles doesn’t know how to use a stamp.” “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Charles yelled with indignation.

An hour later, the entire world knew, because the video was posted on Instagram, with a caption full of bee puns and with a picture of Seb and Charles together, of course.

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[arogustus]

Splatband Analysis: Ink Theory

(Disclaimer: This analysis in based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don’t be a jerk about it.)

Edit: Put a Read More on this cuz now I realize this is long.

I’m gonna start this series with Ink Theory. You might have expected this to go in chronological order and have started with Squid Squad, but I have a good explanation for that. None of the other bands are Ink Theory. Plus this band has at least three pieces of artwork to them (and Yoko has an additional one thanks to Yoko and the Gold Bazookas, that’s how you know she’s special. Kitamura as well, but we’ll get into that later), so I feel there’s more to work with.

So, let’s start off with a band wide reading, since I feel they warrant it. 

To start with, here’s the main thing we know about the girls, their knowledge of academic music theory and classical training. They’ve all been practicing since youth, making music a big part of their life, and studied music theory. However, of the six, Mayaya, Bibi and Karen are the ones noted to have graduated from music academies, while Yoko, Kitamura and Oonie are left unmentioned of their education. While it could be the writers simply didn’t want to repeat themselves too much, it’s just as likely that Yoko, Kitamura and Oonie went to less notable institutions like regular colleges that didn’t warrant mentioning. Just a thought.

The second thing to note is their rivalry with Bottom Feeders. While most of what we know comes from the Bottom Feeders side of the rivalry, which is appropriate considering their more volatile, chaotic personalities, the Haikara Walker magazine does mention the two bands got into a music battle during a concert in ZAPP square, fueled by their rivalry into an epic performance. So while it is clear Bottom Feeders started it, it’s also clear that Ink Theory reciprocates the rivalry, or at the very least indulge it for their own reasons.

With that out of the way, let’s focus on our ladies, starting with best girl:

Yoko

The first and foremost thing we know of her is her mutation and her unknown illness. Her hair is multicolored due to a mutation that is only aesthetically pleasing and not useful otherwise. Considering that her hair turns gray as it reaches the top of her head, and even her eyebrows appear to be gray, it’s safe to say it involves her ink color not being able to properly change. As well, she has a weakness to atmospheric pressure that essentially makes her always miserable. Despite that, her determination and hard work is highlighted as a strong suit of hers, being the frontwoman of the band and absolutely slaying on the trumpet. She’s someone who works through everything, regardless of her obstacles. 

On the other hand, she’s described as being insecure about being overshadowed by her own bandmantes’ personalities (you should read how they describe her on Inkipedia, it’s just rude). It’s safe to say that at least three of her bandmates being well regarded academy graduates might have something to do with it. It’s probably why she gets nervous before large performances too. She feels she needs to work hard to keep up with the others and gets nervous because of it. It makes sense why she went off to “reinvent” herself in Splatsville  according to Splatoon Base. Speaking of Splatoon Base, it mentions she comes from a conservatory background. Looking it up, the meaning I get out of it is that she studied at a smaller university where the focus was on the practical basics of performing, with less focus on the academic side (If I’m wrong, please tell.) 

On the more minor stuff, she clearly likes the design of her hat. Like, it sounds like a stretch, but when you own three hats that share the same design element (the horns), then there’s probably something going on. Three makes a pattern after all, or however it goes. Also, in the Valentine’s day artwork, while everyone except Oonie  and Mayaya has ice cream, she has fries and a drink. She’s probably not a fan of sweets.

Karen

The only based Karen in existence. She’s one of Ink Theory’s big name graduates, having been top of her class in her university, and even having gone on several competitions overseas. She went around the same time as Taka, who was her senior and is the main inspiration for the formation of Ink Theory. She’s clearly the main Eralien of the band, though the rest of the band doesn’t seem to mind having to wear uniforms inspired by Hightide Era.

She’s mentioned to be nervous about her popularity in Ink Theory, despite looking self-assured otherwise. Considering she’s been in several competitions and has won a ton of awards, it’s a safe bet to say she’s not used to the lack of attention she’s getting as part of the band. Not that she seems to want to bother the others with it. She provides emotional support to the team (Yoko lucked out on that), so she doesn’t really intend to feel that way. Trying to be humble but failing internally or something along those lines.

Bibi

Bibi’s another academy graduate in the band, and plays the kazoo because apparently she’s so good she can just do that (and it works). Much attention is put on the fact she’s essentially “The Face” of the band. She’s closer to the public, the fans adore her enough to pull her in front of the camera, and they even call her Queen Bibi. Clearly someone who’s aware of her popularity and relishes in it (Yoko and Karen are in the corner right now, just pointing that out). She’s also implied to be from a wealthy background, as she’s a large spender who’s never much struggled financially. 

It’s never actually explained why she chose the kazoo over any other instrument for the band. Maybe she wants to show off a goofier side? Or maybe just regular show off? Food for thought.

Oonie

Now we return to one of the none-famous academy graduates. Oonie is stated to have parents who are famous musicians, possibly the classical kind, and who were strict with her upbringing. As a result she favored music genres of a different style before she eventually started appreciating classical again. Classic rebellious teenager case here, observing other genres as a form of rebellion and who only started appreciating classical music under her own terms. Her new outfit in Splatoon 3 outright supports it. Someone managed to find a pinterest picture a while back of someone in the exact same fit as her, it’s called Harajuku. Look up the word to learn more.

She’s also described as romantically inexperienced, and with a habit of falling for self-degrading people. She must be hunting for a relationship but keeps ending up with the self-deprecating type. I kinda have a theory on that, but I’ll save it for a headcanon post. And the final thing is the observation in the valentine’s day image that she’s ridiculously indecisive. She’s still staring at the menu after everyone else already has their orders. Also, she’s a Squid Squad fan, she’s got a charm of them on her bass case. Cute.

Kitamura

Kitamura has the shortest description, but I feel it tells plenty. Another not famous academy graduate, instead she’s highlighted as the mascot of the band. Everyone seems to know she’s cute and she’s fine taking advantage of that it seems. She’s mentioned to have a high singing voice, so she must sing, either casually or as part of the band and we just got unlucky in not getting any vocal music. Bummer. 

She’s stated to live on her own, but following a curfew. Outside of implying she’s independent and diligent, adulting on her own and following her own strict rules, it also implies that the rest of the band lives with other people. Possibly with families or other friends they have. She’s also a trend chaser, following whatever new fads she hears about. She does seem to have some set in stone tastes though. If we can believe the urchin in that one Octo Expansion chat image is her (the one about Pearl’s early metal days, there’s an urchin wearing bows on their hair. If so, that gives her artwork number 5), then she’s got a taste for punk/metal stuff. Her new outfit in Splatoon 3 supports that, being a flowery white shawl worn over a dress studded with spikes around the base. I love that fit so much.

And for her place in the Valentine’s day image, she’s about to eat an ice cream sundae the size of her own head. And Yoko’s looking at her with what I assume is concern. Small people eating big food is a trope you never get tired of.

Mayaya

The final big name graduate of the band. Well, just graduate, as unlike Karen and Bibi, they just say “musical academy” without the famous adjective. Maybe they left it out? Anyway, she at least impressed her professor enough that they recommended she start teaching music immediately after graduating. She likely showcased that potential in a way, maybe as a tutor for other students, and she also had a close enough relationship with said professor to willingly listen to that recommendation. As is clear with Ink Theory, she chose instead to go out and make her own music first, to develop her skills before she decides when she wants to become an instructor.

She’s a freelance percussionist. Ink Theory seems to be her main band, but she also performs with other ones. Like she said, she’s focusing on creating her own music first, so freelancing is a nice avenue in getting tons of experience in other genres.

---

The first band is done. seven to go. Give me your thoughts if you have them, and criticisms too. Discussions are good for getting multiple perspectives after all. Especially if you all know something I don't.

#splatoon #splatbands #ink theory #yoko #karen #bibi #oonie #kitamura #mayaya #splatband analysis #my work #in case you're wondering' I just really like Oonie's name over Aachin

[twistedchatterbox]

Un-Scripted Chemistry

You are a talented script writer, yet the reason Vil finds himself drawn to you is off the page. Tags. Fluff, Crushing, Pre-established relationship, Vil Schoenheit has feelings, No beta we overblod like men, you are one talented mashed potato

No wordcount | Tag list | Masterlist

It is an uncommonly known fact that Vil Schoenheit hates unlabelled role-names on scripts because of how it makes memorization difficult for inexperienced acting students.

However, an even less-commonly known addition is how the dorm warden will willingly lose sleep and/or spend his free time editing the script. By the end of it; the script includes tone guides, pose/gesture descriptions, suggestions, Do's/Don't-s. ...All depending on the needs of the person he will give the script to, of course.

Which is why Reading [RoleName - A/B/C or 1/2/3] on the papers of acting offers makes him wanna break a pokerface and side eye the script writers.

-Except, Vil is frustratingly aware of how underpaid the staff are compared to their all-too-smug and confident employers.

Now, on the other end of the spectrum: You, another big name in the acting scene, down-to-earth.

Whenever someone wishes to clash ideas with you during the production process, most people will find it easy to admit it was fun if not thrilling.

You are creatively competitive, but only in an encouraging light.

Vil finds that your easy going personality allows him to enjoy whats around him; he feels like he is next to you, not above, not bellow, and certainly not beyond the curtains of a stage.

No, he only finds himself walking next to you, at ease.

Strolling through town square in a 'disguise',

aimlessly chattering in the park,

brainstorming about your next production over coffee,

spilling 'tea' about the work gossip,

asking about each others' friends, rivals, family,

talking about his hopes and your dreams.

it's entirely unscripted whilst feeling akin to a fairy tale come true.

He counts his blessings and reassures to himself that this is real.

Now..

Once again, you give Vil one of the drafts for your newest play's concept , with a awe-inspiring smile ; where you labelled the side-characters, actions, suggestions, a breath-taking eye for detail;

-however, the thing that catches his eye first is the light-hearted, humorous way you named the side-cast.

Frankly? it's childish, and yet it reads like the type of thing a bunch of freshmen would nickname their roles to make it fun.

'Bob the burglar', 'Robbert the robber', 'Jay the jangler', 'Theo the thief'

it feels like the highest effort and quality satire genre, looking at the joke-like role-labels and then reading the absolute masterpiece of your play-writing. -Seriously? He asks you with his eyes, an utterly amused gaze.

And you laugh back. Vil finds solace in the way it reaches your eyes.

"it made my trope laugh," You say, shrugging, calm and good-natured "I figured you'd get a kick out of it."

And of course he does.

Vil smiles, as genuine as his love for art and you ; it reaches up to his eyes naturally.

He feels that it comes by naturally, when its you.

"I do," Vil hums, flipping through the sizable file of your work. "I appreciate it."

a/n; Hey hey! Did you know that reblogs are what actually help authors on here? If you wanna support me, do it via reblogs and tell me what you think of this fic in the comments ^^

#twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland disney #twst disney #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #twst vil x reader #twst wonderland x reader #twst vil schoenheit x reader

[imightgetbetter]

back in time

i don't even know what came over me, but i basically meshed all these ideas into one and here we are, five thousand words later. i typically love writing long pieces, so we'll see if this becomes the new trend for my writing. as always, be nice and give feedback (reblog and messages and all that). thank you for all the support you've been showing me. it literally makes me so happy. okay bye. have fun reading! content warning: MATURE (if you're a minor, get out of here)

Nearly everything in your quaint apartment is moved out, deconstructed, and sold. Outside, New York City is bustling with movement. Holiday season always is. Mothers dragging their families to the Rockefeller Center Tree and Times Square and the notably known apartment buildings in SoHo. Inside, you are waiting anxiously for the buzzer to sound near your front door, where there is someone on their way to help you gather the rest of your things and move back home. Originally, your mother was meant to fly out and help you, but his willingness and insistence that it would be easier for him to come and help because he knows the area quite well from visiting and you’d already asked him (you didn’t), so he had absolutely no issue flying out for only a day or two to get things moved back home, made it so that she simply couldn’t refuse.

Holidays and special occasions always went like this from as early as you can remember. The Healy’s, The Daniel’s, The MacDonald’s, The Hann’s, and your family, all gathered in someone’s house, sharing stories and alcoholic beverages as the boys wacked and played their instruments and you would sit idly by trying to make yourself seem busy and uninterested. And that worked quite well, you thought, for years. Until one holiday, you found yourself drunkenly kissing Matty Healy on the side of your house, his hands brushing electrically against the skin hidden by a thick sweater. His skin was so warm compared to the harsh winter air around you, and kissing him, albeit drunkenly, made your entire body feel warm.

You and Matty never spoke of it, once you two walked back inside, making up some lie that you needed help throwing out the garbage. No one believed you, but you couldn’t speak of it, ever again. Not once. Mistakes are made when you’re drunk and you were friends and you were friends with his friends and you all grew up together, and it felt like the absolute worst thing you could possibly do. You ignored it, and Matty seemed to not have any cares for the fact that this had happen, continuing to act as he always had towards you. You thought it was a one-off thing, a one-time mistake. Until the next party. Until, when everyone was distracted, Matty was taking your hand and pulling you towards the entry way closet and grabbing your face and kissing you.

And this happened, a lot.

Matty never kissed you sober, which, was somehow insulting and intriguing simultaneously. Could you really be everything Matty wanted when he was drunk, but absolutely nothing more than a friend when sober? Questions like this swirled around your brain every time a gathering happened – which was quite often for you all – and every time, you found yourself drunkenly misplaced in his arms, his lips on yours. Matty never took it farther, never pushed it, as though that was enough for now.

All the one-off kissing was enough, until the day came when you were officially leaving. Your acceptance to New York University did not come as a shock to anyone, especially not your friends. You had always been a writer, from the minute you knew words, you were making up stories. You sat with Matty as he wrote songs, giving him synonyms and telling him if his rhyming scheme was off. You were made for this, and it was your dream coming true.

One last party was necessary, all the friends and family gathered together for one last real party, one where it wouldn’t only be because you were visiting in town for the holidays or the summer. All your friends were gathered on the floor of your bedroom, sitting knee to knee as you all share a joint around the circle and talk about what’s going to happen when you leave.

‘You’ve got to come back for holidays,’ George said, tilting his head back and letting the smoke puff out between his lips. ‘Have to check in and listen to what we’re working on, too.’

‘I’m not dropping off the face of the earth,’ you argue, stealing the joint and pulling it between your lips. ‘I’ll still be around. There’s the internet and stuff in America. I’m not going to the Arctic. You act like I’m never coming home.’

‘Might as well be,’ Matty huffs, the cigarette smoke pooling around his head like a cloud. He’s been the one having the hardest time with you leaving, and everyone could see it. He relayed his happiness for your acceptance, as everyone did, but there was something different attached to it, a different feeling. Matty stood up suddenly, lending out his hand for you, ‘I’m going to go outside for some air. Want to come?’

‘Uh, sure.’ His hand felt warm against yours, and you two slipped out the front door without anyone in the garden noticing. Matty walked you to the side of your house, a spot you remember vividly, and the tension feels weird, the energy is different, like there is so much to say but you want to say nothing at all. ‘You’re acting strange.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Matty says quietly, stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and leaning his hand on the side of the house. Adjusting yourself slightly, you twisted yourself to be facing him. ‘I can’t handle you leaving. It’s making me lose my bloody mind.’

“Matty, I’m going to school,’ you say, trying to brush away the feelings welling inside you. Objectively, to anyone else watching, this would be the perfect moment to profess your feelings for him, for him to share his feelings with you and tell you that you’re all he wants, and he’ll do the distance and all the things you watch in shitty romantic movies growing up. ‘I’m going to still talk to you and the guys. I’ll be back for holidays and summers. I’m not disappearing.’

‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘That’s not really an option, Matty. My career isn’t here. Nothing ties me to Manchester, besides my parents, growing up here. I want to go to New York. I want to go and experience it and then I want to come back and move to London and be an author and do all the things. Just like you want to be a musician. I wouldn’t be showing up at your house hours before you leave for a tour telling you not to go.’

‘I wouldn’t go,’ Matty says, turning his head away from the wall of the house and towards you. ‘I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ you say, leaning against the siding of the house and tilting your head up towards the sky, staring at the stars. ‘You shouldn’t ever give up your dreams for your friends. That’s absurd and you know it.’

‘Jesus Christ, YN,’ Matty says roughly, the scratch in his throat accentuated by a wet rasp, and when you look at him, you can see the tears welling in his eyes, ‘you are not just my friend, you never have been. It’s always been more than that, and you know it.’

‘Know what, Matty? Me and you are only a thing when we’re high or we’re drunk. It’s not like you’re in love with me or something!’

‘And what if I was?’

‘Don’t say that to me. You can’t say that to me,’ you say, pushing off the wall and hurriedly walking towards the front door. Matty grabs your wrist and twists you around, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. It’s the type of kiss you read about, the one you watch in movies. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you breathless and confused and unsure where to go, only that you need to keep kissing him. Matty pulls away only for a second, giving you a moment to say, ‘You can’t do this when I’m about to leave. It’s not fair, Matty.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’ Matty rubs your cheeks softly, his eyes tracing over your features, trying to memorize everything about you. ‘I just, I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel about you. You’ve always been more than just a drunken kiss.’ You don’t know what to say, how to feel. ‘I want you. I want to be with you. I love you.’

‘I’m going to be on another continent, Matty,’ you sigh, tears welling in your eyes as you lean your face into his hands. ‘I can’t do long distance. I don’t want to. I want to write and fall in love and fall out of love and have experiences, and I want you to have those, too. I can’t do this, no matter how I feel about you. Matty, we can’t do this.’

Matty knows you better than to ask what he wants to really ask you. ‘Can I come and visit you? Can you come home and listen to the band and write songs with me? Can we get high and talk about existential crises and politics?’ His eyes squeeze shut as you wipe a tear from his cheek. ‘Can I still kiss you?’

‘Yes,’ you say, not specifying which question you’re answering. Matty can decide what the ‘yes’ is to and for. ‘And when I’m done with school,’ you say hesitantly, nervous about the implications of what this might mean, ‘when I’m coming home, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. I don’t want you to ignore every opportunity just because something might happen in four years. Live your life, Matty. And if something happens when I come back, then–’

‘Yeah,’ Matty says quietly, kissing your forehead and pulling his hands away, reaching into his pocket and grabbing another cigarette. ‘I’m going to stay out here; you can go in.’

‘Okay,’ you say, drawing back from him and walking towards the front door, and the further you walk away, the more it feels like you’re walking away from what should’ve been so good.

And this is where you are, four and a half years later. Home is calling, you’re excited to be where you know for a while, especially for the holidays, before heading down to London and making a life there on your own. All of your bags are packed, lined against the wall. Only a few more boxes need to be shipped to your new address, and you have time to do that tomorrow before your flight in a day. All of it is coming together, except for the fact that you have to face what you’ve been actively avoiding for the last four years, because you know it’s going to be something you talk about.

And only a few minutes pass with this thought, because then the buzzer rang, you clicked the button and opened the apartment door, and before you could properly think of a greeting, you’re sucked into his arms, his entire body wrapped around you tightly. He is warm and smells so good, you swear it’s impossible that he’s just gotten off an airplane. His warmth is familiar, a sweet scent wafting over you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him, your eyes shut as you just soak in the silence. He’s quiet, as well, and you know that you both are thinking the same thing, trying to avoid the unspoken energy in the room. You wonder how long it’ll take for him to say something about it, and you wonder how long after that it’ll take you to blurt out the words that have been itching at your throat since that dreaded night you think about often, the night you regret more than anything.

Matty slowly pulls away, grabbing your cheeks and staring at you intensely, and you feel like your whole body is on fire and you can feel the heat of his breath on your mouth, and you want nothing more than to be kissing him, to feeling his lips on yours. His thumb traces your cheek, and he says, “I’m so happy you’re coming home. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m only home for a week. I move to London next week,” you say, and immediately you feel guilty for not spilling out how much you’ve missed him since you’ve been away. “I’ve missed you, more than you could believe.” His smile is enough to make you feel like your feet are floating above the ground, and you have to step away, reaching for a mug on the counter and taking a sip of the warm tea. “I’ve come down with a cold, I’m sorry. I know we have to share a bed and all, but I’ll try to stay away from you.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling. I mean it,” Matty says surely, taking a look around the empty apartment. He’s been here a handful of times, coming to visit here and there and always spending the most amount of time with you that he could, even if that meant sitting and watching you write on your computer for hours. “Do you want to do anything, tonight? I don’t mind staying in if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think there’s a Walmart about thirty minutes away,” you say reaching for your phone and clicking at your screen to try and find a car to take you there. “Don’t feel like, tied to me, while you’re here. I’m okay with being alone.”

“I’m not okay with you being alone,” Matty says without a second thought, grabbing his things out of his bag and opening the door for you, waiting for you to lead the way. He follows you closely and watches you as you stare at the scenery around you. You’ve always been this way, a city person at heart, from the moment he met you, you talked about moving to the city. Granted, he didn’t know that it would be New York City, but he did always know you would wind up somewhere with hustle and bustle, and you would fit in.

“Quit staring at me,” you say, not willing to look away from the sight of the car passing over the bridge. Having to leave feels so bittersweet. On one hand, you are excited to be home, to be living in London and around your friends. On the other, you know that you’re going to miss the city you’ve fallen in love with. It’s been your true love for so long, it feels like heartbreak.

“I’m not staring,” Matty says, turning his head out the window, a smirk fighting to curve across his mouth. “You’re staring at me, now.” His smile is wide when you quickly turn away from looking at him, the view of the store coming in front of you. “Come on, sicky. I’m sure you dragged me here for a puzzle that you certainly will not finish.”

“I will finish it,” you say, rolling your eyes and climbing out of the car behind him. Matty takes your hand, and you can feel electricity and heat wash through your body, entangling your nerves. “I want an artsy one. Not sure which one, but something pretty.”

Matty nods and you walk through the store quietly, neither of you saying much. There are too many unspoken words in the air and neither of you are willing to start the conversation. Matty points towards the aisle with the puzzles, and you follow him, standing quietly as you peruse the options and try to find one that calls your name. Your eyes follow his movements, tallying the new tattoos and the significance of different ink on his skin. You always told him that you wanted a tattoo, but you were never willing to go alone.

“Ah, you can make your own puzzle with a picture,” he says, drawing you out of your trance and towards an advertisement. “Do we have time for that?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head. “Could you grab that one? That looks easy enough,” you add, pointing towards a tree of life puzzle on the very top shelf. Matty reaches for it easily, grabbing it and handing it to you to look at. “Perfect, thank you,” you say quietly, taking it from his hands, and without a second though, you kiss his cheek. His eyes go wide, and you can see the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Matty, seriously, don’t even think about it, I’m sick. I can’t get you sick before we fly home.”

“Have I ever cared about anything like that before?” Matty says seriously, turning towards you and taking a step forward, his body dangerously close to yours. “Are you really telling me not to?”

“No,” you swallow, and you can feel every nerve inch into your throat, your heart beating so loudly you can feel it reverberating in your ears. “Are you drunk or high? I don’t,” you pause, thinking very carefully about what you’re going to say next, “this can’t be like the other times.”

“YN, I just got off a plane three hours ago.” His body is now so close, you can feel his chest against yours, his breath hot against your face. You feel suffocated in this moment, too enraptured by the way being around him feels and the way he smells and the way his eyes have not left your lips, not even once. His hands come to your cheeks, a feeling you know all too well. “Can I?”

“Please,” you whisper, and suddenly your breath is taken away by his mouth on yours. Kissing him, it feels like sharing oxygen, like flying. Kissing him, it feels like every wrong decision is right and every bad thing is good. Kissing him, it feels like coming home. Kissing him, it feels like what you should’ve been doing all along. “I want to go home,” you mutter against his lips, and you can feel him smile against you. You can’t see it with your eyes closed, but the way his mouth is leaving open mouthed kisses on your cheek, it’s easy to tell.

“Take me home.”

Three simple words that have so much meaning, so much weight. Take me home. Take me home to your house. Take me home where we can be alone. Take me home where I can finally be with you, the way I’ve always wanted to be with you. Take me home, where we can start something, we’ve been waiting our whole lives for. Take me home, where I can be yours forever.

And the tension is there when you’re getting out of the car, and when you’re walking the stairs to get into the apartment, and when you’re quietly moving about the apartment trying to avoid talking to him about what just happened at all costs. Matty shuts and locks the door behind you, watching you mill about the apartment anxiously as he’s pressed against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. You walk around him a few times, jumping back and forth from the kitchen to grab wine glasses that you were shipping out tomorrow and a wine bottle that you bought specifically for you two to share and the puzzle on the ground next to your makeshift mattress for the next day before you leave. Until finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t care about the bloody fucking puzzle, YN,” Matty says suddenly, cutting you out of your anxious thought wheel and walking directly over to you, grabbing your cheeks, and kissing you deeply, kissing you hard. His breath feeds you, and you feel like you could exist in this bubble for a long time, never needing anything else. “I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too,” you sigh, a moan leaving your lips as his hands begin wandering around your skin. “I don’t want this to be just a one-off thing, Matty. I don’t want to be a one-off thing.”

“You have never been a one-off thing,” he says sternly, gently tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it above your head with ease. He’s warm, and he’s almost certain it’s not from the heat of your apartment. “I have never, ever wanted anyone the way I want you. I love you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back,” you say, and it’s the very first time in minutes that Matty has pulled away from you to really look at you. His heart softens, his thumb brushing under your cheek as a stray tear falls. All the emotions all at once are hitting you, and it feels like it’s too much, but you don’t want to stop, you don’t want this moment to end. It’s you and him. You and Matty, for the first time, and it feels just how it’s supposed to feel, “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back, back then, and I hope it’s not too late now to say it.”

“It’s not, baby. It’s not too late,” he assures you, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing against your lips. “I am still in love with you. I am in love with you. Nothing’s changed. Nothing about that has changed four years later.”

“I love you,” you say, and it’s easy, the words are easy coming from you to him. Matty smiles, leaning down and kissing you passionately, his hands reaching under your thighs and lifting you onto his waist, carrying you a few steps backwards to where your makeshift bed is. “I’m sorry about the bed.”

“Don’t care about the bed,” Matty whispers against your lips, setting you on your feet and working quickly to undo the buttons on your jeans. He’s skilled at this, you’ve noticed, the multitude of times he’s hurriedly worked to undo your jeans at family parties seemingly coming in handy, at this very moment. He’s heard you moan before; he’s made you orgasm, but it’s never gone this far, it’s never been this, and there’s an anticipation killing both of you that you are not willing to play with. “I have a condom in my wallet.”

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, shaking your head as you kick your jeans to the side and take a seat on the edge of the makeshift mattress. All you have on is your bralette and a seamless pair of underwear, not exactly the most ideal pairing, but something about it makes this feel even more perfect. Nothing was expected or certain. Like you two. Matty scrambles in his bag for the condom, and you can’t help but laugh watching him. He’s hurried and frantic and you have to remind him, “I am quite cold over here, but I’m not going anywhere. Take your time, I guess.”

“I’m doing my best,” Matty says with a grunt, swearing once or twice before smiling widely and waving the packets in his hand excitedly. “And I’m not an asshole, I just had very high hopes.”

“Extremely high.”

“You’re naked, aren’t you? Doesn’t seem like such a far-fetched hope to me.”

“And my clothes are right there,” you reply back with a smirk, pointing at your jeans and shirt piled together in the corner of the room. “Can put them back on in two seconds and we can go back to that lovely puzzle and my bottle of wine.”

“I’ll run into traffic.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Matty shrugs off his sweater and his jeans, carefully leaning down and climbing over you, his warmth covering you completely. “I love you.” His face leans down and kisses you, the condoms forgotten somewhere beside you and the duvet at the edge of the mattress getting pulled over his back to cover you in extra warmth. “I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. I’m so glad I didn’t have to, though. That might’ve killed me.”

“I wouldn’t have made you wait that long,” you assure him, your hands holding his cheeks and threading through his hair. His hips dip against yours, and you can feel him hard and heavy against your core. You want him, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your hands move from his cheeks, trailing down his chest, pushing his boxers down his thighs. He pushes the material off his legs, leaning back onto his feet to look at you in front of him. “I clearly didn’t think this would happen. I’m not entirely, you know, ready.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Matty says, his hands reaching behind your back and slipping your bralette off your body, his mouth immediately kissing alongst your chest, ghosting over your breasts and down your stomach. His hands are warm against your, but the goosebumps rising along your body from his touch is invigorating. He drags your underwear down your legs, kissing inside your thighs sweetly before climbing back up to meet you face to face. “I have so many things I want to do with you. You are just so beautiful.”

“You have time, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

Matty fumbles with the condom wrapper for a moment, earning a giggle and a muffled laugh from him as he lays his hand over your mouth to quiet the laughter. He leans over you when it’s fully wrapped around him, his mouth heavy on yours. His fingers gently drag alongst your center, your arousal coating his fingertips and earning a moan from both of you. His cock moves easily against you, you’re so ready for him and anticipating this, that all you want is for him to finally be with you. “This is it. You’re coming home. I love you. And you love me. It’s us, now.”

“Us,” you whisper, a moan escaping your throat as he slowly inches himself into you, his forehead falling to yours and his mouth desperately finding yours to kiss you, to swallow your moans and your breaths and feel every part of you that he can. Matty’s arms are next to your face and your feel held and safe with him, like there’s nothing that could possibly go wrong while you’re like this. His hand slides between you, rubbing at the nerves between your thighs and kissing along your neck, your fingers dragging alongst his back as your legs circle around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer. His curls are clinging to his forehead with sweat, and you feel like your body is on fire, but it’s something you’ve craved for so long that you’re basking in it, that it’s everything you’ve wanted to feel. His thrusts are driven and hitting the right places and you think that it’s quite possible that you were always made to be together, that his body was made for you to enjoy and you for his. “I love you,” you whimper, your whole body tightening and your nails digging into his shoulders as your orgasm washes over you. His body stills above you, your legs still wrapped around his waist, and you can feel him release, his body easing into yours. He doesn’t want to move, but he knows he has to, and you hate the feeling of losing his warmth.

“Don’t move, baby. I’ll be right back,” he hums, kissing you sweetly as he slowly slides out and removes the condom, and he turns around when you giggle, your eyes fully fixated on his backside. “Are you staring at my ass?”

“Yes.”

“Is it nice?”

“Very.”

Matty laughs, shaking his head as he walks towards the wall and turns the heat another notch, before walking back towards you and sinking under the comforter with you. He lays on your chest, his hand wrapping around your waist, his fingers dragging along the curve of your side. “You don’t have to be so worked up, now. I know you, I know you’ve been awake all day because you were nervous about me coming.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You were nervous,” he says surely, his forearm supporting his body weight as he trails his fingers up your body and begins tracing your lips. He’s always been enthralled by your lips, by the way they feel on his. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Have you already told the guys?” you ask, turning your head slightly to give him better access to your skin, your eyes remaining closed and only listening to the sound of his voice. Outside, the stars and the moon are shining through the window, casting a perfect light over you.

“Told them what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Matthew.”

“They knew at Walmart.”

“I hate you so much,” you say, trying to hide the smile and the laughter that is fighting its way to the surface with your hands covering your face. Matty pulls your hands away, and you look at him, your eyes meeting his softly. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“I have something that may make you feel better.”

“I doubt that.”

“I mean, the guys don’t know that you’ve given me head every Christmas since you moved to New York, if that makes you feel better,” he smiles, the smirk on his face telling you everything he isn’t.

“And look at that! Tradition just ended. Just in the nick of time for this year,” you say, smacking his arm and turning around in the bed to face away from him. Matty wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kisses your shoulder sweetly. “I’m going to be travelling a lot for work. How are we going to do it?”

“You and I can figure that out,” Matty says surely, kissing the indent of your shoulder once more before gently guiding you to lay on your back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to see anyone else.”

“I don’t want to see anyone else.” Matty leans down to kiss you, and you hum against him, a content smile breaking apart your lips. “How many of the guys bet on this happened? I want to know.”

“I don’t think it was much of a bet of if it would happen,” he says, his fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from your forehead softly. “More of when.”

“Great! Happy to know they think I’m easy, Matthew.”

“Not my fault they can judge a situation! Think about it, darling, you can only sneak off at holiday parties so many times before someone notices.” He’s right, and you know it. “Not to mention, we weren’t very good at hiding it.” His mouth leans against your cheek when you roll your eyes, he knows he’s won this time. “I want to go to Central Park before we leave.”

“Central Park is just landscaping that people don’t take care of properly and tourists littering. It’s practically Sea World for New York City.”

“Can you do anything without posing an argument?”

“No, and now you’re in for a lifetime of arguments. That’s on you.”

Matty smiles brightly because he wouldn’t care if you argued over the simplest things every minute for the rest of his life if it meant he got to be with you.

#matty healy #matty healy fic #the 1975 #the 1975 fic #love it if we made it series

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Transmission and Deflagration (The Kwamis' Choice)

Well, it only took until almost halfway through the fifth season, but we're finally getting a two-part episode that isn't a season finale. There have been a few episodes I think could have benefited from having an extra part, like “Cat Blanc”. So obviously, after all this time, there has to be a reason for putting a two-parter here. The story told here has to be big. It has to be huge. It has to be something that will alter the very way we see the plot and these characters, and—it's more Love Square stuff. God dammit...

Let's get into the tenth and eleventh episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Transmission and Deflagration

“Transmission” starts with Marinette having another depressive episode, which seems to be worse than usual, with her offering her Miraculous to Tikki so she can choose someone else. While Tikki tries to remind her of all the good she's done as Ladybug as footage from earlier episodes plays, Marinette points out how she's a terrible Ladybug, once again referencing how she lost the Miraculous because of her feelings for Adrien.

Tikki: You’re overreacting, Marinette!

Marinette: Really? Then, how come I lost the Miraculous I was entrusted with all because of love? Love only ever causes problems. I’ll never fall in love again! Love is weak! And I can’t be sad about it; otherwise, I might get akumatized!

Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We're ten episodes into the season, and whenever Marinette brings up her failure at the end of the last season, it's the same song and dance: She feels guilty about it, she needs someone to try and make her feel better, and she doesn't change anything about the way she and Cat Noir operate. If it isn't that, it's a complete strawman or character who we know already hates Ladybug like Chloe or Lila calling out Marinette for her failure specifically so any negative feedback she gets can be easily brushed aside. The whole point of a hero having to comprehend a major failure is to see how they deal with the consequences to their actions and find a way to improve to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. If Marinette came up with new ways to strategize with Cat Noir, or seriously reevaluate the way she sees Adrien that isn't just brushed aside, I'd get it. Instead, all she does is whine about how much her life sucks over and over, which is the same problem I've had with Adrien for the past few seasons.

And once again, for a show with the lyrics “The power of love always so strong” in its opening, it seems like the writers want to make a bigger point in favor of showing how love can only ruin things. Yes, getting emotional can cause someone to make more impulsive decisions, but at the same time, feelings of love and kindness can get good results, like Ellen Ripley's maternal instincts motivating her to save Newt in Aliens. The problem is that we never get a lot of arguments as to how love can benefit the heroes, not only when we see how much it screws up Ladybug and Cat Noir's partnership, but once again, how Marinette's romantic feelings for someone led to her greatest failure. The closest we get to an argument in favor of love is whenever Marinette and Adrien's friends try to make their OTP come together without considering if it would actually make things better or not.

Speaking of which, after the episode's obligatory pointless Chloe line that's only there so Selah Victor can pay her rent that week, Ms. Bustier asks Alya to deliver Marinette's homework to her, only for Nino to convince her to have Adrien do it instead. Somehow, she thinks this minor favor will help Marinette and Adrien realize their true feelings for each other. Because it's not like Alya learned that she shouldn't choose who she thinks Marinette would be best with last episode, right?

Marinette and Adrien talk and it seems like they're starting to grow a little closer, but Tikki and Plagg panic, trying to intervene so they don't know each other's identities. The attempt fails, but Marinette kicks Adrien out anyway. It's a pretty somber scene, so let's cut to something stupid instead, like Marinette and Adrien's classmates throwing a party under the assumption that Adrien simply delivering something to Marinette means they'll get together now.

All of you are really gunning for the Biggest Idiot Award today, aren't you?

Of course, even though she went along with one of these weird “force Marinette to do something she doesn't want to” schemes before in “Crocoduel”, Zoe seems to be the only one with a smidgen of common sense.

Zoe: Alya, did you hear Marinette’s voicemail message?

Alya: Yeah, but that was before, Zoe.

Zoe: “Before”? Before what?

Alya: Before when Marinette was a complete wreck.

Nino: But Alya sends her the perfect mechanic.

Alya: Adrien!

Nino: He’s fixing her up as we speak.

Rose: Wow! When they come back to school, they’ll finally be an item!

Marc: A perfect plan!

Zoe: But... you guys don’t actually know for sure.

Alya: Trust me. This is it this time!

I'm starting to think that maybe Marinette should reconsider who she chooses to be temp heroes once she gets the Miraculous back.

Adrien starts crying as he leaves Marinette's place, which attracts the attention of Monarch... who then immediately backs out as soon as he senses him, transforming back into Gabriel. Meanwhile, Tikki and Plagg discuss Marinette and Adrien's situation.

Plagg: Sugarcube! Having to force them to choose between love and their mission is just awful! Maybe Master Fu was wrong to choose them.

Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength.

Plagg: But the impossible part of that love is destroying them, and I know a thing or two about destruction.

Tikki: (sighs heavily) What can we do?

Plagg: We must free them of that impossible choice. We must... free them of us.

Yep. This is the titular Kwamis' choice. They seriously think that Marinette and Adrien's romantic problems are more important than them being superheroes, so their best option is to just take away their Miraculous even though Monarch still has fifteen more of them. I'd be more forgiving if this was towards the beginning of Marinette and Adrien's superhero careers, but this is Season 5, where the stakes have never been higher thanks to Monarch's arsenal. Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention that MARINETTE IS STILL THE FUCKING GUARDIAN, AND TAKING AWAY HER MIRACULOUS DOESN'T CHANGE A THING! IT'S NEVER EVEN MENTIONED IN EITHER EPISODE, SO HOW THE HELL DO YOU FORGET SOMETING THAT IMPORTANT?!?!

It doesn't even make sense that only now are Tikki and Plagg against Marinette and Adrien actually getting together when they were never shown to have any problems with it in earlier seasons, and just last episode, Plagg encouraged Adrien to go after Marinette after doing so as Cat Noir didn't work out. It comes across as the writers struggling to come up with new ways to have opposition to the Love Square, even if this idea somehow leads to a minuscule amount of progress in that department. Yeah, you figure that out...

Also, it's pretty weird how after four and a half seasons of Marinette suffering from the burden of being Ladybug, only now does Tikki decide to relieve her of that responsibility, but only because of how it affects her love life.

We get another scene showing how stupid Marinette and Adrien's friends are as they talk about how happy Marinette and Adrien must be now, interspersed with scenes of Marinette and Adrien crying their eyes out. Just like that one scene in “Evolution”, I don't get the setup. Is this meant to be a joke, or a serious moment? After Nathalie takes a call for Adrien telling Nino that he can't be bothered at the moment, Gabriel comes into the room to comfort him, giving him an Alliance ring in the process.

Tikki and Plagg talk to their respective holders and tell them how they feel that the burden of being heroes is crushing them. Marinette and Adrien obviously bring up the situation with Monarch, but as soon as their Kwamis mention that not being superheroes means that they can pursue their love lives with no stress, they immediately take off their Miraculous and give them back. After five seasons that this episode confirmed happened just under a year, and this is what causes them to give up their Miraculous: a bad case of heartache. We're supposed to see this as the breaking point that causes the two to not want to be superheroes ever again? They don't consider the innocent lives that could be in danger, or the fact that this heavy burden will most likely be forced on two new and inexperienced schmucks who will struggle even more than they did thanks to Monarch possessing powers of the other fifteen Miraculous.

I'm sorry, but I don't see this as an emotional scene. All I see is what I saw with Adrien in “Kuro Neko”: these characters simply giving up because of how much they're prioritizing their personal feelings over the lives of others. If this was something Marinette and Adrien came up with and made an agreement to quit at the same time (even choosing their own replacements), I'd sort of get it, as they'd at least be on the same terms, but neither of them ever learn the other quit until later on in the episode.

After Adrien breaks down even more, we learn that the whole reason Gabriel hesitated to akumatize Adrien the last time was because he didn't have an Alliance ring on, so now that he does, he's taking a mulligan. However, the Akuma is stopped at the last minute when Adrien sees the homework he was supposed to give Marinette, so he runs off as his negative emotions fade. Instead, Monarch chooses to akumatize someone else with five different Alliance rings.

Monarch: Rejoice, dear Kwamis! Five Alliances enables as many Miraculous powers to transfer at the same time! This villain promises to be exceptional! (laughs manically)

Pretty sure you hyped up Style Queen the same way three seasons ago, yet you still didn't get the Miraculous then, so I wouldn't gloat too soon.

The next scene with Marinette and Adrien is actually a really nice one. Marinette starts stuttering as usual when she tries to talk, but Adrien comes up with another idea: He'll ask a series of yes or no questions, and Marinette can raise her right or left hand to answer them. Adrien asks Marinette about her feelings for him, and Marinette accidentally answers no before changing her mind. Before Adrien leaves, he asks Marinette if she wants to spend more time with him in the future, to which she accepts. This scene was handled really well, and nothing really felt forced here.

Back with Alya, she and the others are once again coming up with a plan to get Marinette and Adrien together (because none of them have lives outside of the Love Square, I guess), when Nora suddenly calls.

Nora: Geez, sis! You never pick up the phone when I like, actually need your advice!

Alya: I couldn’t pick up. I’m at school!

Nora: Yeah, right. So, you see, I had no choice but to deal with it myself.

Alya: Oh, no... Nora. I told you before, you gotta talk before you act!

Nora: Yeah, but I did talk, like, I said stuff in front of Kouki's bros.

Alya: Nora! Not “talk” like that!

Yeah, outside of a few references to Nora trying to call Alya earlier in the episode, I didn't skip anything here. We're just thrown into this plot with little to no explanation as to what's going. What Nora and this Kouki guy were arguing about, much less what Nora said to his friends is never explained. I don't even known if they're supposed to be in a relationship or not. It's not like in “Sandboy” or “Oblivio” where the motivation for how the person got akumatized was only explained near the end of the episode. The episode acts like we're supposed to know who Kouki is and why he and Nora are fighting when this is the first time Kouki has ever appeared on this show.

As the conversation goes on, Tikki chooses Alya to be the new wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and Plagg chooses Zoe to be the new wielder of the Cat Miraculous. Okay, outside of Zoe being the only one in this episode who isn't a complete idiot, I can see why Plagg would choose her, since she has experience as a superhero, and her identity wasn't exposed. As for Tikki choosing Alya? Yeah, Alya did a good job as Scarabella in “Hack-San”, but she doesn't mention that A) She and Cat Noir still needed Marinette's help to stop Robustus, and B) Alya's already had her identity exposed twice, to the point where she was the one to suggest she not be trusted with one before Marinette lost the other fifteen Miraculous at the end of the last season. Alya's not a bad hero, but these factors don't exactly make her an ideal successor to Ladybug. Also, it's pretty dumb how the whole reason Marinette and Adrien quit was for romantic reasons, yet the whole reason Alya blew her cover last season was for romantic reasons (Rocketear).

Back with Adrien and Marinette, the former plans to leave, but is interrupted by the akumatized form of Kouki, named Kikou.

Kikou's design is... I mean, it's not terrible, I guess? Putting aside the fact that this is the second Akuma in the series to go with the “black boxer” stereotype (who is also a dumb brute like Anansi was), the gold jewelry is a decent touch, and it makes sense that he has the five Alliance rings to show off his wealth. As for his powers, because he has five rings, he has five different powers, the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to power his Gum-Gum Pistol-esque punches, the Turtle Miraculous' Shelter to protect his head where the Akuma is obviously hiding, the Horse Miraculous' Voyage to move around quickly and make up for his size hindering his speed, the Ox Miraculous' Resistance to protect the aforementioned Shelter, and the Mouse Miraculous' Multitude to clone himself with. This is the Akuma that really made me realize that the gimmick of every Akuma this season having the powers of whatever Miraculous Monarch gives them is just an excuse to half-ass writing any new Akuma powers in favor of the same fifteen abilities the other Miraculous have.

Kikou attacks the city, but Alya transforms into Scarabella, soon being joined by Zoe, AKA, Kitty Noire.

Kitty Noire's design is... pretty weird, all things considered. The green lipsick just doesn't look that good, I don't get the green hair extensions, and why are they eyes like that when even Lady Noire's eyes stayed green? At the very least, the hair looks marginally better than Catwalker's, and I like the detailing on the suit itself.

While Scarabella and Kitty Noire quickly get to know each other, Marinette and Adrien get used to being civilians again pretty quickly as they watch them fight off Kikou, the two new heroes struggling to keep up with Kikou's five Miraculous powers. Of course, Marinette and Adrien only look mildly concerned, not even regretting their choices in the slightest.

Our heroes, ladies and gentlemen.

Scarabella uses her Lucky Charm, getting a parachute, which is totally different from the kind used in the final episode of the first episode. Scarabella and Kitty Noire taunt Kikou, Scarabella drawing Kikou's fire while Kitty Noire recruits a bunch of firefighters, who then get some paint from the art store Socqueline runs. The firefighters then load the paint into their truck's hose, which is then used to fill up the parachute. Kitty Noire cuts the rope, and the paint blinds Kikou, and as soon as he deactivates his shield, Scarabella breaks his headgear, freeing the Akuma.

Scarabella de-evilizes the Akuma, sort of helps Kouki and Nora make up, uses Miraculous Scarabella to fix all the damage, while Marinette and Adrien compliment the new heroes from afar before promising to meet up at school tomorrow.

The first episode ends with Gabriel's Alliance recording the unusual data in two Alliances, meaning that Scarabella and Kitty Noire's identities have already been exposed... even though Tikki should have known this since “Jubiliation”. Yeah, you all know where this is going.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... TIKKI

While the competition was tough, Tikki was able to get the win for going along with this asinine plan in the first place that prioritized the personal feelings of two people over the fact that Monarch was at his most dangerous. Not only that, she forgot Marinette was still the Guardian, she forgot that Alya's identity was already exposed twice, and that even if she didn't know the Alliance rings were a front for Monarch's plan, forgot that these hi-tech rings track the everyday movements of its users, not even telling Plagg this before he chose Zoe.

The second part, “Deflagration”, immediately starts off with Kitty Noire saying that Ladybug and Cat Noir have nothing to feel guilty about even though they essentially abandoned Paris when Ladybug was shown to be getting backlash for her failure, but of course, that isn't mentioned here.

Kitty Noire: We’ll accomplish our mission just like they did, because the goal we all share is to defeat Monarch, isn't it?

News Reporter: Or perhaps Ladybug and Cat Noir renounced their mission so they could finally live their love story?

Scarabella: They were never in love or in a relationship, and neither are we.

Kitty Noire: (in a flirtatious tone) So far anyway!

I'd make a “The Ambiguously Gay Duo” joke here, but we all know Alya is already in a relationship.

Alya and Marinette meet up, the former congratulating her successor on another great job. The two talk about Adrien, and Alya once again encourages Marinette to focus more on pursuing a relationship with him, no doubt planning another stupid party in her mind.

We then get a scene that actually reminds the audience that Chloe and Zoe are supposed to be sisters. I understand if you might have forgotten, but don't worry. I'm pretty sure the writers did too. Of course, I think the writers might be running out of new ways to make Chloe mean to someone, because this time, she just yells at Zoe for being near her and not being in the “half-of-a-sister zone”. In order to appease her sister and make sure she doesn't call their mom, Zoe offers to wash all of Chloe's shoes. Plagg talks to Zoe about possibly standing up to her sister.

Plagg: How about I Catacylsm that sister of yours instead?

Zoe: It’s pointless, Plagg.

Plagg: Zoe, you can't let them treat you that way; no one speaks to me like that! Just ask the T-rexes... That is, if you can find one! Because they're not so smug anymore now, are they?

Zoe: It’s best to stay out of trouble in this family if I'm going to protect my secret identity.

Plagg: You start by giving up cheese, and then you end up giving up on dignity, freedom, and justice!

Zoe: I feel like you like to blow things out of proportion, don't you?

Plagg: Yes... especially when I’m starving.

Talking about standing up to your mean sister, contemplating murder while casually discussing genocide. Same thing, right?

We cut to Gabriel, who's over the moon about the recent revelation regarding Scarabella and Kitty Noire, even dancing a little. He tells Nathalie and heads to his lair to plan his next scheme, but not before chatting with Emilie's body once again. Gabriel transforms into Monarch and gives himself the powers of the Bee, Mouse, Rooster, Ox, and Horse Miraculous, traveling to the school himself.

Meanwhile, we cut to the Resistance, where we see Max has set up a system where, through the use of the Alliance rings and their phones, the members can alert the school to whenever there's an active Akuma... even though one of the features included in the Alliance includes an Akuma alert (Multiplication), and there's also been an Akuma alarm since Season 2 (Riposte). So once again, this brave and totally important Resistance has contributed absolutely nothing. Okay, there are some other parts, like some of the members planning to fight off the Akuma with paintball guns if there's no other option. You know, this is proof that this show takes place in France, because if this was America, they would most likely have actual guns.

At lunch, Marinette and Adrien get closer, to which Lila uses as an opportunity to manipulate Chloe into trying to break up the moment, but not before we get a joke where Chloe needs Alliance to define the word “generous”. Okay, I'm not sure if the joke was that Chloe is so selfish, she doesn't know the meaning of the word, or if the writers are now resorting to using “dumb blonde” jokes for Chloe now, which totally isn't a cliche that was overused twenty years ago to the point where there was an entire movie starring Reese Witherspoon made to subvert it. Either way, NOT FUNNY, DIDN'T LAUGH.

Chloe tries to ruin the moment by telling Adrien Marinette is in love with him, but he's not having any of that. She tries telling jokes that are supposed to be unfunny, they're funny, but it lacks the charm of something like Hank Hill attempting to tell “yo mama” jokes. Zoe stands up to Chloe, which pisses her off so much, she willingly accepts an Akuma from Monarch (currently invisible thanks to the Rooster Miraculous), turning into Sole Destroyer.

Sole Destroyer is... wow... Just... WOW... they didn't even try with this one. At least Miracle Queen made sense as an upgrade to Queen Wasp, but this? They literally just took Sole Crusher, whose design resembling Chloe made sense thematically in that episode, gave her a new pair of sunglasses, some more gemstones and spikes, and made her eyes glow as if she was a character in an episode of The Nostalgia Critic. Why go to this effort to make a new Akuma when so little is done with the new design? Wouldn't it make sense to bring back Antibug, given Chloe has been against Ladybug since the end of Season 3? As for Sole Destroyer's powers, it's just Sole Crusher's magic kicks, only instead of growing bigger in size after absorbing each victim and making her more of a threat, they transform into singing shoes. You know, guys, it just dawned on me how... how weird this show is. Kinda goofy...

Alya and Zoe attempt to transform, but Monarch, using a combination of the Mouse, Bee, and Rooster Miraculous' powers, stuns the two and steals the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous from them. Plagg attempts to Cataclysm Monarch, but Monarch uses Resistance to block it, immediately going to unify. Before the process can be completed, both Tikki and Plagg use Lucky Charm and Cataclysm respectively, Tikki summoning a trash can with the side effect of creating a new Eiffel Tower, and Plagg destroying the Cat Miraculous. Doing so ends up creating an endless cycle of things being created and destroyed, and unlike in “Dearest Family”, they don't reuse footage from “Style Queen”.

Marinette gets the trash can, and realizes what's happening, and while Adrien and Nino plan to have the Resistance try and stop Sole Destroyer, Marinette works on making her own Ladybug costume. Monarch orders Tikki to tell him what the hell's going on, Tikki explains that since Plagg destroyed the Cat Miraculous, he lost his only method of communicating with the physical plane, and all Monarch needs to do to get what he needs is to take back the Lucky Charm Tikki created. Just then, Marinette arrives, dressed up as Ladybug, and seemingly having the Lucky Charm in her hands, only for Monarch to steal it, unifying into Monarbug.

Given how stupid he looked as Shadow Noir last season, it's not exactly surprising to learn that Gabriel looks just as stupid unified with the Ladybug. The red and black polka dots just don't go with the black and purple. The one thing I'll give them credit for is that the eyes look kind of cool.

The Lucky Charm turns out to be a fake, and Nino jumps in to save Marinette from being hit with Venom. The rest of the Resistance also arrives, somehow having beaten up Sole Destroyer off-screen and turning her into a battering ram. Monarbug undoes the Akumatization, but Rose, Ivan, and Kim dogpile Monarbug, leaving Adrien to steal back the Ladybug Miraculous for Marinette.

Marinette transforms back into Ladybug, and uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage and fix the Cat Miraculous. While Ladybug fights Monarch, she learns that he reforged the Miraculous before Monarch uses Multitude and Voyage to make his escape, swearing that he'll beat Ladybug someday, “We'll meet again, Spider-Man”, yadda yadda yadda.

Tikki and Marinette talk about finding new holders, only for Marinette to choose to take back the Miraculous, figuring that since Monarch doesn't know their identities (once again forgetting what the Alliance rings can do), that's the best option. Plagg takes back the Cat Miraculous and goes to say goodbye to Zoe, reassuring her that she was still brave enough to stand up to Chloe, because I guess to hell with the people who somehow managed to restrain Chloe while she was Sole Destroyer. And so this episode, and by extension, this two-parter, ends with Ladybug and Cat Noir talking about how their Kwamis saved the day... even though they were the reason Monarch almost won in the first place.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... CHLOE

In addition to somehow not knowing the definition of the word “generous”, she failed to come up with a good comeback against Marinette, chose to get akumatized to get revenge, failed at that, betrayed Sabrina and Lila, her only allies, for no good reason, and somehow got defeated off-screen by a bunch of civilians with no superpowers, not even getting to fight either of the new heroes, including her sister.

But yeah, in case you can't tell, these episodes were pretty bad. The entire premise of Tikki and Plagg deciding that Marinette and Adrien's love lives were more important than stopping Monarch was a hard pill to swallow, especially since their replacements didn't get to do anything outside of a single Akuma fight. You'd think that with the buildup Zoe got standing up to Chloe, she'd at least play a role in stopping Sole Destroyer, but instead, she and Alya are benched for almost the entirety of “Deflagration”. It's also really dumb that the ending tried to make them out to be the MVP's of the fight, when their idea was what caused Monarch to almost get the Miraculous.

Even Marinette and Adrien didn't really make a lot of progress here. All they did was talk a little, but even after “Deflagration”, not much else happened. Yeah, Adrien stood up for Marinette, but they still haven't officially started dating yet, even when they had every reason to after giving up their Miraculous. It's still better than nothing, but after four and a half seasons, I think we're allowed to want a little more development with the Love Square Wouldn't it have been interesting to see Marinette and Adrien try to start a relationship during their brief retirement, only to struggle to maintain it after becoming superheroes again? We're almost halfway through the season, and the Love Square is still progressing at a snail's pace. Then again, I guess it's better than nothing at this point.

“Transmission” was pretty boring, all things considered. Other than the first act, nothing really happened. The Akuma fight was like the others, just with two new heroes, and Marinette and Adrien got to bond for a few minutes. Nora and Kouki's drama wasn't interesting, and it wasn't even properly explained like the motivations of other Akumas.

I will say that “Deflagration” was the better of the two, if only because Marinette, Adrien, and Gabriel made some smart choices here. Unlike in “Evolution” and “Destruction”, there's no gloating or wasting time. Monarch cuts straight to the chase, and Marinette comes up with a quick plan to trick him with. Also, while I still don't really care about the Resistance, I like the idea of the civilians standing up to Monarch, and think it was executed better than it was in “Heroes' Day”. Even Sole Destroyer got a few reactions out of me for how exaggerated her facial expressions were. I don't know why they decided to give her One Piece levels of weird faces, but kudos to the animators on that front. Of course, Sole Destroyer was still one of the most pointless Akumas in the show's history, as you could take her out of the episode and nothing would have changed.

Overall, while I appreciate the effort to try and tell bigger stories, this was a really weird choice of an episode to make a two-parter.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #alya cesaire #scarabella #zoe lee #kitty noire #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch #monarch miraculous #monarbug #nino lahiffe #ivan bruel #mylene haprele #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #le chien kim #max kante #nathalie sancoeur #chloe bourgeois

[theerurishipper]

A few more things because I am not done talking about this finale.

I know a lot of people think that this issue of Gabriel being seen as a hero and Marinette keeping the fact that Adrien is a sentimonster and that his father is Monarch is going to come back as a major plot point, or that Gabriel isn't really redeemed and that this isn't the end. And I'm not saying I have evidence that it's not going to turn out that way, but like... this is Miraculous we're talking about.

The show which famously tries to offer sympathy to bad people because of their tragic backstory by:

Trying to half-assedly "redeem" Natalie into some kind of super mother figure for Adrien, even though she enabled and participated in his abuse for years and never showed remorse for it, or even took accountability for it. Her callously killing Sentibug is never brought up again either. And she still does not give Adrien the Amok that helps him choose for himself or tell him he is a sentimonster, and yet is framed as a good parental figure for him.

Trying to redeem Andre Bourgeois and frame him as some kind of great person by having him adopt Zoe and send Chloe to live with her abuser by disowning her, even though it's his shitty parenting that let her get to this point. And letting him get off scot-free for all the times he abused his power as Mayor.

Trying to redeem Felix by glossing over such crimes as him giving all the Miraculous to Gabe, him committing genocide, him trying to ruin his cousin's life, him victim blaming Adrien, him returning Adrien's Amok to Gabe, and many such things. All because he had a tragic backstory and cared for sentimonster rights (even though he killed two on-screen with only regret for one of them) so that clearly means that he did nothing wrong and does not need to be held accountable for those things, even though he showed no remorse for it or desire to do better.

And the show which also famously ignores major plot points and leaves them behind with little to no resolution in favor of dropping new bombs on the audience, such as:

Choosing to ignore the Ladynoir conflict in Season 4 by having Chat Noir just push aside his legitimate grievances with Ladybug's bad decisions to continue being her emotional support partner. This conflict was not addressed ever again, even in Season 5, and was left without any resolution.

Neglecting any exploration of Chat Blanc beyond some obligatory mentions now and again to remind the audience of why the show needs more seasons.

The whole plot with the alternate love interests Luka and Kagami, which was built up across a whole season and dismissed within two episodes of the next season so that the writers could focus on the new Love Square drama they came up with for Season 4.

Luka's conflict about knowing Chat Noir and Ladybug's identities, which was written out in one episode, only for it to have been ultimately pointless in favor of having Kagami know it anyway.

These are great examples of how the show neglects to build up and conclude previously established plot points and conflicts in favor of substituting them with other ones and/or does the absolute minimum to somehow write them out in order to move the story forward and focus on other new plot points that they came up with for the new season.

From these, we can understand that:

Trauma is a valid excuse for everything, and a tragic backstory frees you from accountability unless you're Chloe.

And:

Previously established conflicts are not brought up or explored in any meaningful capacity in order to make way for new ones.

Knowing this, I think it's highly unlikely that the show will ever explore this idea of Gabriel not having truly become a martyr and a hero, and that even if it is the case, it will be neglected as a plot point in order to push this Lila thing to the front. At most, we will get a moment where Adrien learns the truth and instantly forgives Marinette for doing what his abuser asked because she did it out of love, and no one will question the implications of this in any meaningful way. This is because Adrien is not allowed to have feelings that inconvenience Marinette in any way, be it his hurt at her keeping secrets from him, or now her siding with his father and outright lying to him, because his role in the story is now that of Marinette's love interest and emotional support partner, and that's all he's good for. And as for Adrien acknowledging that Gabriel was a bad father again, combining the redemption that simply having trauma gives him and the fact that Thomas "Chloe is not an abused child" Astruc doesn't seem to understand the severity of such things, I doubt we will ever see him outright reject his father ever again.

For all these reasons, I really do believe that it is wishful thinking to expect this to be addressed in any way that matters. If it is not forgotten, it will be relegated to a single moment and forgotten after. That is, if it was ever meant to be explored. The writers of this show are... not the best at dealing with this sort of thing, after all. After all I've seen, it is not surprising to me at all that Gabriel was redeemed. There is a clear trend of characters with any motivation that could be construed as sympathetic or with a tragic backstory portrayed as being justified in their actions, having their actions erased and ignored or at the very least severely downplayed for the sake of making them out to be better than they are. Gabriel has been consistently given sympathetic scenes throughout the season, which culminated in this finale which absolves him of every wrongdoing.

And I know people feel like this is clearly not the end, but that's how a lot of people felt about the Ladynoir conflict in Season 4, and look how that turned out. This show has always been bad at dealing with nuance. An abused child is portrayed as irredeemable and evil, and her enabling father is portrayed as a good person for giving up on her (I don't even like her, but damn). There is a trend of demonizing those characters who really should not be, and offering sympathy to characters who haven't earned it. I have no trouble at all in believing that Gabriel is supposed to sympathized with and redeemed by the end. He gets his happy ending, he gets what he wanted, and his actions make the world a better place.

I've seen the idea that Gabriel actually lost floating around, but did he? He already knew he was dying, and he had, to some degree, come to terms with it. And in the end, he was clearly very happy with just dying if it meant being able to make his wish. His end is clearly portrayed as him making the ultimate sacrifice to wish for a better world, as one last good thing he does for his son. It's portrayed as him asking Marinette to hide all this from him to protect him. Of course, anyone with common sense can see that this is still really controlling and manipulative, but the show pretty clearly frames it as a selfless act. The line "all the times I tried to be a good father," isn't framed as the delusional statement it is. He's smiling in that scene, surrounded by light, and that's not the framing for someone who's supposed to be read as manipulative and evil at that point. The writers seem to genuinely believe that the man was a good father at some points. I've also seen others say that clearly Gabriel was not redeemed by the end because he refused Marinette's hand, but that's not really true. He did paralyze her, but then he freed her and returned all the Miraculous, and Marinette ends the season by fulfilling his dying wishes and letting the world know he was a hero. He paralyzed her, but then he also clearly listened to her. He was also genuinely emotional. Her words did reach him and it is framed as him making a "selfless choice" even though it clearly is not.

I've also seen people say Adrien's reaction isn't necessarily acceptance of Gabriel's heroism since he might be trying to cope with his loss by convincing himself Gabriel was a hero, or that abused children often cannot recognize that their parent is not a good person. And I agree, but that is clearly not what is happening here. Adrien has already expressed disgust for who his father is, and it is possible for him to fall back onto old thoughts and feelings regarding him, but that isn't what's going on here. This here, is Adrien being fed a lie that his father was a good man and a hero by people he trusts. This is Adrien being told what to think and feel, because there are statues of Gabriel being erected and Ladybug spreading the word that he is a hero. This is Gabriel's abuse being erased to portray him as good. And Adrien, after spending the whole season working up to calling Gabriel out, ends the season with hoping to be like him.

And I've seen arguments about how episodes like Chat Blanc and Ephemeral were there to show us that Adrien facing his father isn't a good idea because his reaction makes him vulnerable, but then... why would you write that! Why would you set the protagonist up with this plot point only to write reasons to leave him out of his own plot and character arcs? What about that is good writing? It only makes this finale more deserving of critique! It is not the defense it's trying to be. It just shows they couldn't care less about their own narrative.

I get that this could lead to a potential arc about trust and honesty and all that, but... we've done that before. How many times will Marinette learn the same lesson? How many times will Adrien forgive her for it? How can you even forgive something like this? And even if it all comes to light, what purpose does this serve in anyone's arc? Gabriel is dead, so there's no consequences for him. Marinette has been "learning" the same lesson for two seasons now, and not even losing all the Miraculous made her stop keeping secrets. And what more does it contribute to Adrien's arc to have him learn the truth later rather than now? How does it add to his story to know that everyone he trusts lied to him? Nothing, if you think about it. It really takes away from his story, because he can no longer confront the man who did this to him, he can no longer get that closure, because Gabriel is gone! Sure, it'll be dramatic and all, but that's all it is! But that is how Miraculous operates: shock value and dramatic scenes over consistency and character arcs. Which is why characters like Marinette aren't allowed to retain the lessons they should have learnt ages ago, and characters like Adrien are actively pushed away from their arcs to make way for some other drama.

And this is me saying this while believing they aren't going to bring it up anyway. How many times have we seen this kind of thing happen? For a conflict to be set up only to be ended unceremoniously with no proper conclusion? What reasons are there to believe that the show will actually follow through with this plot? Other than speculation, I mean. I don't see any. The ending did not indicate that there was anything wrong with what happened. The seasons prior set up the conflicts for the next season in the finale episodes. In Season 3, we had Gabe fixing the Peacock and Marinette becoming the guardian. In Season 4, we saw Monarch rise and Marinette lose all the Miraculous. In Season 5, we see Lila get the Butterfly Miraculous and that light that scared her or whatever it was. But we never see any set up for this being a plot point. There is no point in which we are supposed to think this is wrong. A set up, for example, would be something like Marinette looking to the Gabriel statue with a frown, or Adrien feeling unsettled somehow. But there's nothing like that. For all intents and purposes, Gabriel is done and there are new threats to move on to. And removing all that stuff with Lila, it just seems like it could be a solid series finale. The conflict is over, all the characters are back and together and happy, the main couple kisses as the theme music plays in the back in a scene that's clearly the sort of scene used in the ending of a show, and no one even hints at anything being wrong. It's all audience interpretation, and quite frankly there's no real reason to believe it's setting up something. Something was already set up and it wasn't the thought that this ending is in any way flawed. It's a charming, idyllic ending where all the characters are clearly happy and content, basking in the end of Monarch.

And what he did is not clear at all. Did he not actually rewrite the world? It seems like he just traded his life for Natalie's (and Emilie's???? Is that her?), because Hawkmoth still existed here, the Alliance rings still exist, which means everything happened exactly how it did, and the only thing that's changed is that Natalie has recovered. But this just makes the "clearly something isn't right" argument less valid. This isn't Gabriel's "ideal world," which needs to be fixed, this is just the normal world, where there is a statue of Gabriel only because Ladybug told everyone he was a hero. The things that are being done are completely against everything Gabriel ever believed in, so clearly the world is not based on his ideals, and it hasn't been rewritten. So, the only one really responsible for Gabriel being seen as a hero is Marinette (this is not a criticism of Marinette btw, just the writing). This is just the normal world, and the only thing that needs to be "fixed" is that Marinette should tell the truth. But the writers clearly think that Gabriel is fully redeemed, so there isn't anything that needs to be fixed. So why would they address this plot point again? They have no reason to.

And if he did rewrite the world, then the writers just made Gabe rewrite everything and everyone's memories so that he didn't have to be held accountable by anyone, especially the son he abused. That's going to be even harder to fix.

Any resolution to something I don't believe will be resolved anyway will undoubtedly a side story or a minor plot point. Remember, this is the show which is notorious for setting up plot points only to do nothing with them in the end. Everyone was so hyped about the resolution to Luka discovering both Mari and Adrien's identities only for the writers to decide Kagami fit that role better and shittily write Luka out in one episode. Everyone was talking about how Luka keeping secrets would undoubtedly have massive repercussions only for no one to give a shit about it and simply write Luka out for a few episodes and have him come back with no consequence in the finale. And this is a pattern for this show.

All this to say that no, we're probably not going to address this. It hasn't happened before, and I doubt it will happen this time. I've tried to give this show chance after chance, but it never delivered, and I don't trust it to do so anymore. I'll take all this back gladly if it does deal with this conflict well, but as of right now, I feel very confident in putting this post up.

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Gabriel Agreste #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Recreation #ML Season 5 #Meta #My meta #S5 Finale

[ichorai]

sunlight ; jesse pinkman.

track thirteen of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; jesse pinkman x gn!reader

synopsis ; yellow was not a color he often saw in alaska. that was, until you came into his life.

words ; 4.2k

themes ; fluff, angst, slice of life, writer au

warnings / includes ; breaking bad & el camino spoilers, mentions of death/walter/drugs/the nazi group that imprisoned him, jesse is just Traumatized, reader is a sweetheart, jesse befriends a Cat <3

main masterlist.

The color yellow often resurfaced bad memories of his past. Yellow were the hazmat suits he wore with Walt when they cooked meth. Yellow were Jane’s bed sheets when she overdosed right next to him. Yellow were the broiling sands of New Mexico—a place he once called home.

Now that he was in Alaska, yellow was a color he scarcely ever saw. And for that he was glad. Mostly, it was white. With snow—with clouds. Maybe a dash of brown and grey here and there, alongside the occasional green once in a while. 

It was quiet. Peaceful.

After everything, a bit of peace was all that Jesse needed.

That is, until you came along.

The first time he met you, you were decked out in an array of soft canary-hued clothes, certainly a sight that he wasn’t expecting at all. You were smiling brightly, so wide that it was a wonder your face hadn’t split into two. There was a basket in your hands, which held nothing other than around a dozen ripe lemons. 

“Urm, hello?” Jesse hesitantly greeted, opening the door wider. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I live around five minutes away, and there’s barely anybody that lives near me other than grouchy old Bob, so when I found out someone had moved into this shabby little cabin, I just couldn’t help but stop by! Here, I got you a little house-warming gift. I hope you like lemons!” You held the basket out to him, still beaming ever so kindly.

Awkward, Jesse took the lemons from you, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, thanks. I’m Jared. Jared Driscoll.”

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Jared. Hope it’s not weird for me to say that it’s great to see a young face around,” you told him, rocking back on your heels. “Most people living around here are over sixty.”

Memories of Walter, Saul, and Mike flashed in the back of his mind, and he could nearly feel the physical pressure weighing down on his chest. He squared his jaw and pushed the thoughts away.

“Yeah,” replied Jesse, nodding. “Thanks again, for, uhm, these.”

He was just about to shut the door again, mentally smacking himself for being so tongue-tied, before you gently asked, “If you’re not doing anything tonight, I’d love to have you over for dinner. No pressure, though, I’d totally understand if you’d want to settle in first.”

No, was right on the tip of his tongue. No thanks, I’m a little busy with unpacking my stuff. I mean, I don’t have any stuff, but you don’t need to know that.

But the words caught in his throat. You looked so hopeful, your hands clasped behind you and your eyes wide with excitement. You were still smiling—how were you still smiling? His eyes darted down to your yellow cardigan rustling with the frigid Alaskan wind. 

“Uhm, alright,” he replied, shooting you a tight smile that came off more like an uncomfortable grimace than anything, but at least he was trying. 

Somehow, you seemed to brighten even more at his response. 

“Cool, is seven okay with you? I still need to clean up a bit before dinner.”

Jesse nodded wordlessly, a strange, giddy warmth pooling into his abdomen—a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. It was excitement. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely been excited for something.

“Alright, to get to my place, you just walk up the main road for a while, until you see a fork in the road—take a right, and walk for a bit, then you’ll see my house. In case you wanna make sure it’s my place, the mailbox has a pink handprint on it, but I doubt you’ll get confused—it’s not a very crowded neighborhood, huh?” 

Jesse thanked you again as you left, smiling at you—genuinely, this time. 

Two packs of crushed crackers were gripped within one of his hands. It was all he had in his pantry, and he didn’t know what the etiquette was like around here, so he brought them just to be safe.

There was a lot of yellow to your house. He caught sight of the lemon tree in the corner of your living room, situated right against a window for optimum sunlight. You had a pale yellow carpet beneath the dining table, and sheer curtains hanging over the window of the same shade. You even had a little white cat, who had wound around Jesse’s legs with a mewl, staring up at him with large amber eyes. 

You apologized profusely, bending down to pick her up. “Sorry, she’s not usually this friendly around strangers. This is Yuki—means snow in Japanese.”

A smile itched at the corner of his lips. “No worries. I’m cool with cats. I, uh, I like her name.”

Seemingly relieved, you put Yuki back down, and ushered him to the table. In the center was a clear vase, holding a variety of ochre and purple wildflowers. 

“Hope you’re alright with spaghetti—I’m not that great of a cook, but I make a mean spaghetti,” you said, grinning as you disappeared into the kitchen to brandish a large bowl of pasta. His stomach growled at the smell of marinara sauce—he couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent bowl of warm, homemade food.

“No, yeah, that’s great,” he reassured. Silence stretched between the two of you as you began to ladle heapfuls of the noodles onto his plate, making sure to add a generous helping of meatballs with it. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you, so… thanks.”

You grinned at him kindly, before sitting right across from him. “It’s no problem, I promise. To be honest, it gets really lonely here sometimes. I’m glad you moved in.”

Jesse could only give you a small smile in return, before digging into his food. It was better than anything he’d had in months, though it wasn’t much of a competition. The past few weeks had been nothing but stale sandwiches and tough jerky that wore out his jaw.

“This is really good,” he said around a mouthful of pasta, forgetting his tableside manners for a moment. You didn’t seem to mind, only beaming all the brighter.

“I’m glad! Wish I could grow my own fresh tomatoes to make the sauce with but—it’s almost always freezing cold here,” you chuckled lightly. You twirled some pasta over your fork. “Which is why I grow lemon trees—they can withstand the cold pretty well.”

“How long have you been living here?” asked Jesse, finding himself genuinely curious about you.

You hummed in thought. “Four years ago, I think. I just needed some peace and quiet—and where better than Alaska, you know? I’m a writer, see, and I used to think that I had to live in a bustling city to make connections and meet more people in the industry to be successful but… I don’t know, I think a part of me always felt trapped in a corner. I feel free here.”

“Yeah,” replied Jesse, distant. “I get that. So, uh, you’re a writer, huh? What do you write?”

“Short stories, mostly. Sometimes I dabble in longer novels, and sometimes I’ll dip my toe into nonfiction. Depends on what my publishers want from me and also what I personally want to write,” you said, before taking a sip of water. Blanching, you quickly added, “Oh, I’m so sorry, you’re my guest and I haven’t even asked a single thing about you. What about you? What’re you doing up in the middle of nowhere, Alaska, Jared?”

The new name felt so foreign—so strange coming from you. He wondered how it’d sound if you said his real name. Jesse.

At your question, a myriad of memories flashed into the front of his thoughts once more. Mike, Walt, Jane, Badger, Skinny Pete, the meth, the drugs, his parents…

He pursed his lips. 

Sensing he was a bit uncomfortable, he was surprised when you only nodded in gentle understanding, quietly saying, “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me. We all have our reasons.”

The reassuring smile that quirked the corner of your lips upward made his heart just a little heavier. You were just so… nice. It was a bit baffling. An extremely stark comparison to his time kept prisoner by the group of Nazis. 

“You got space for dessert?” you queried, tilting your head in the most adorable of ways, snapping him out of his reverie just when the atmosphere began returning back to its original light-hearted state. “I made lemon pie!”

It took him a little under a month to fully settle in. His house was still sparse and relatively empty, but he’d bought a nice new couch to lay back on and a frumpy little lamp he had gotten for free at an antique store. The old lady that worked there had pinched his cheeks and given it to him for free, despite the crumpled bills he was just about to hand over.

She told him that she reminded her of her grandson, and insisted on giving it to him for no charge. Acquiescing, Jesse took it home with him. Who was he to turn down something free, anyway?

He’d gotten himself a job as a carpenter, building together new little cabins not far from where he lived for adventuring tourists or more old couples that would inevitably migrate here in search of some peace and quiet. Most of his free time was spent dillying in his house, reading random books he’d borrow from the musty little library in the small town (he was pleasantly surprised to find a collection of your works on one shelf)—or he’d find himself at your house, playing Scrabble with you, or listening to you ramble about your day, or babysitting your cat when you had to go off to meet with your publisher. 

It was safe to say that he’d grown rather fond of you.

And that scared him. Rightfully so—the last two times he’d genuinely cared about someone… he’d lost both of them.

But that was in the past now. Jesse was trying to move forward. With you by his side, hopefully.

One of the benefits of being a carpenter was that he had a nearly infinite supply of spare wood on his hands. He’d been meaning to make you a little thank you gift for how nice you’d been to him his first few weeks in Alaska. He certainly hadn’t been expecting any sort of hospitality whatsoever before he’d arrived. 

And so Jesse built you a little birdhouse. It was relatively small and admittedly not his most skillful craft, but he thought it wasn’t too shabby. He’d even stopped by a hardware store to grab some paint, and added a thin coat of light yellow to the outside of the birdhouse. The roof was colored a sweet shade of pink—he’d meant to color it red, but the crimson had accidentally mixed into the white on his brush, and he decided that the pink would look better, anyways. 

The day after, he was on your doorstep, ringing the bell with an excited flutter to his stomach, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

You swung the door open, smiling upon seeing him. He interestingly noted that you were wearing large yellow overalls, hair tied away from your face. You looked so darned cute—it made him clam up for a second and forget what he’d come here for. 

“Hey!” you greeted, stepping to the side so he could amble in. “It’s nice to see you, I was literally just about to call you to ask if you wanted to watch a movie tonight, or something—ooh, whatcha got there?” Your eyes widened as you looked at the little wooden house cradled in his palms. 

“It’s for you,” said Jesse, holding it out. “It’s a, uhm, a birdhouse.” 

Your expression melted into one of pure affection, and you grinned impossibly wider, before surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a quick hug. Before he could even begin to think about reciprocating the embrace, you were already pulling away, holding the birdhouse up to eye-level to observe it closer. “Oh, my God, Jared, this is gorgeous—I can’t thank you enough. Did you make it yourself?”

Chuckling nervously, Jesse nodded an affirmative, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner. “It was nothing, really. Just had some scrap wood.”

“I love it,” you told him. The words made warmth coil about the bones of his ribs, spreading down to the tips of his fingers and crawling up the skin of his neck. “Nobody’s ever made me something like that before! You’re really too sweet, Jared. I’ll hang it outside in a bit.”

Carefully, you placed the little house on your table. A quiet meow roped both of your attentions lower, where Yuki was winding between both of your legs, tail curled around Jesse’s shins. He bent down to gently scratch beneath her chin, earning him a contented purr. 

The three of you made your way to the couches, and you ushered Jesse to sit down, after you rushed to go pour him a steaming cup of coffee. 

“It’s freezing out,” you told him, curling up beside the man and handing him the mug, before taking a sip from your own. Yuki made herself comfortable between the two of you, tucking her nose behind her tail and shutting her eyes for a nap. “Hopefully you can stay and defrost for a bit before heading back out?”

He hummed, appreciative of the idea. Being with you was… comforting, to say the least. It was peaceful, and quiet, and made his heart ache like nothing else. Dare he say—domestic. It reminded him of his short-cut time with Jane. 

At the thought of her, thorns pierced through his lungs and he forced his gaze away from you. He caught sight of a small pile of papers on your coffee table, and he leaned forward to pick one up. You fiddled with the mug in your hands, nervous.

“Oh, wow, is this what you’ve been writing?” His eyes swept along the first few lines, finding himself utterly impressed. “Yo, this is, like, really damn good.”

“Really?” you asked, sitting up straighter, a hopeful look to your expression. “I’ve been in a weird word-vomit mood lately—ever since I met you, I just haven’t been able to stop.”

Jesse risked a glance to you, muffling a smile. “I may not know much about writing but this is… next level, dude. It’s like I can see it all in my head. Like a movie but with… words?” 

“Gosh, Jared, you really know how to compliment someone,” you lightly scoffed, hiding your beam behind your mug. “You can keep that copy if you want. Here—” Shifting to brandish a pen from your pocket, you signed his name right under your printed one. 

Jesse peered over to look, the smile cracking through his exterior.

For Jared Driscoll.

“You know what’s funny,” you murmured, eyes glued to his fake name on the paper. “You’ve never really pegged me as a Jared Driscoll.”

For a long moment, Jesse could’ve sworn his heart stopped in his chest. “Oh, yeah? Why, uh… why’s that?”

You shot him a glance, before smiling sweetly, handing him the papers back for him to keep. “I don’t really know—it just doesn’t suit you, I guess. Jared Driscoll sounds so—rough’n’tough, you know? You don’t strike me as the rough’n’tough kind of guy. You’re too sweet for that.” You shrugged, sinking further into the couch and running the tips of your fingers along Yuki’s back. 

Jesse stared at you for a moment longer. Your words brought a certain kind of comfort to him that he never knew he needed. The affirmation that he was still a good person in your eyes—it meant more to him than he thought it would.

“Thanks,” he said, hesitant, though he gently quirked the corner of his lips into a mild grin. He sipped his warm coffee before adding on, “I think you’re sweet, too.”

“You never told me when your birthday was,” you told him, an accusing lilt to your words. Jesse’s brows rose. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, having just woken up no less than three minutes ago to the door ringing. 

Wordlessly, he swung his door open wider so you had space to shuffle in, still glaring at him.

“It’s been a year since you moved in,” you carried on. There was a slight pouty pucker to your lips, face creased into a frown. Jesse thought you were too damned cute to take your annoyance too seriously. “And we haven’t celebrated your birthday once!” 

“Bah, it’s not a big deal,” he finally said, yawning behind a fist and waving your words away.

Your little frown deepened. “Well, I’m sorry I missed it,” you softly said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But I got you something anyway.”

From out of seemingly nowhere, you brandished a large brown paper bag, dangling it in front of him on the tips of your fingers. When he narrowed his blue eyes and suspiciously darted his gaze between you and the bag, you huffed out a small laugh, jerking your chin towards the gift. “Go on—open it!”

The bag crinkled loudly beneath his grip as he took it from you. With one last questioning look to you, he turned it over, and out fell a large yellow hoodie, cloud-soft in his palms. It looked like it was the exact right size for him, and he sent you an incredulous glance. 

“This is sick, Y/N, thanks,” he said, a genuine beam itching at his mouth. “Perfect size—and it’s yellow, too!”

For a moment, you looked a bit unsure. “If you don’t like the color, I can always switch it out—it’s just, you’re always wearing neutrals, I thought it’d be nice to give you something colored.��

Jesse looked to the hoodie, then back at you. 

Sure, yellow brought back bad memories. Far too many, and not nearly distant enough in his past. 

But yellow was your color—and he rather liked how it looked on you.

“Nah,” he said, patting your shoulder once, then twice, “I like it, really. I like it a lot.”

Two years in Alaska meant nearly two years with you.

You’d become the one constant in his life—one that he wouldn’t mind being around for the rest of it, as well. 

The two of you were sitting side by side on a frosty hill, watching the sun set. A breathtaking mirage of clementines and peaches bled through the sky just when the sun dipped slowly beneath the horizon. A faint, cold wind tousled your hair, rustling the blades of grass around you. It was meant to be a celebratory picnic of sorts, but the two of you decided it was too cold to eat out, and opted to just sit and relax for a bit before heading back inside and having dinner. Wordlessly, you handed him a pack of chips from the little basket you’d brought for the failed picnic, and he wrestled it open, popping one into his mouth. Simultaneously, you bit down on a crisp apple, wiping the spurting juices away with the back of your hand. 

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” said Jesse, mindlessly tracing shapes into the cold grass. “Time flies, huh?”

You hummed in agreement. “It does.”

Jesse turned to look at you, watching the side of your face relax along with the disappearance of the sun. The last few moments of golden sunlight bathed you in a gentle glow and drew the most beautiful of shadows across your features. You brushed some stray hairs out of your face, the sleeve of your oversized flaxen sweater swallowing your arm. He really couldn’t deny himself anymore—he was completely and utterly in love with you.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said. He wanted to tell you the truth. Obviously not all of it—not all at once—but he wanted you to know. Jesse trusted you more than anyone else in his entire life. Maybe that made him an idiot, but… he was willing to risk the chance with you.

Curious, you tilted your head questioningly, laying your hands and face against your raised knees. The very edge of your shoulder brushed against his arm. You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

“You were right,” he finally said. 

“Right about what?” You were starting to look mildly concerned. 

Jesse inhaled deeply. “Jared Driscoll doesn’t suit me at all because… it’s not my real name.”

Surprise flooded your expression, but not too much of it—as if you’d always had an inkling all along.

“So what’s your real name?” you asked, all gentle, slightly afraid. Afraid that you’d lose him after so long—after getting attached.

“Jesse Pinkman,” he responded, tearing his gaze away from you, not sure if he wanted to see your reaction. “My middle name is Bruce.”

To his complete surprise, you let out a sudden laugh, before clamping your hands to your mouth. He snapped his head back to look at you, a contagious, incredulous grin touching the corner of his lips. 

“Bruce like Batman?” you asked, slightly muffled behind your palms. He nodded, and you let out another chortling laugh. Relief wove through the very fibers of his muscles at your relaxed disposition. You smiled at him, all soft and glowing. It made Jesse’s stomach knot together uncomfortably. “I think it suits you. Much more than Jared Driscoll.”

You tested his name out, enunciating different syllables in various ways, your grin growing nearly double its size. 

“Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman. Jesse Pinkman—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jesse snorted, grabbing the apple in your hand and gently pushing it back into your mouth. With a halfhearted glare, you bit down into it anyway.

Around a mouthful of apple, you told him, “You have a pretty name.” You swallowed down the apple and quietly asked him, “Why are you using a fake one?”

Jesse hesitated, directing his gaze to the ground. His smile melted away. “Maybe that’s a story for another time.”

Bobbing your head in understanding, you smiled at him, still so very genuine it made his heart ache.

“Since we’re sharing secrets… well, mine isn’t exactly a secret, but I didn’t move to Alaska for the peace and quiet. I mean, I did, but that wasn’t really the reason why I left the city.” You cleared your throat, eyes getting slightly misty. “I lost my best friend in a car crash while she was on call with me seven years ago. A part of me will always think that it’s my fault that she died. So I moved to Alaska to get away from everything. From the city, and all those cars… and all the people. It was really hard being here at first. It was cold, and lonely, and sometimes just plain old boring. But honestly?” You tentatively reached over to place your palm over his. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

The sun was long gone by now, and Jesse found himself missing how you looked in its soft yellow glow. 

“Best decision both of us made,” he murmured, nodding. Jesse quite liked the feeling of your hand on top of his. “I came to Alaska because I, uh… I lost everyone. Everything.”

You smiled—all soft and devastating. He could feel a part of his heart crumbling into a heap of sand within his chest. Nimbly, he turned his palm over to intertwine your fingers with his cold ones.

“Well, you haven’t lost me, Jesse,” you told him, so quiet that it was nearly lost to the breeze.

Jesse wanted to cry at those words. He blinked away the stinging feeling at the top of his nose, and could only muster a grateful, teary nod. 

“I, uhm, I’ve only been in love twice before in my life,” he whispered to you, swallowing the lump in his throat. “And both times, they died while I was right there—helpless. I’ve healed and I’m moving on, but, uh… I’m terrified of losing you the way I lost them, Y/N.”

Shifting, you turned so you could fully face him, now clasping both hands onto his right one. Firmly, you repeated yourself, “You haven’t lost me, Jesse. You won’t. Whatever hurt you back in New Mexico is long gone now. The past is far behind you. You have a fresh start. And I’ll be there with you—every step of the way.” 

The color yellow often resurfaced bad memories of his past. Yellow were the hazmat suits he wore with Walt when they cooked meth. Yellow were Jane’s bed sheets when she overdosed right next to him. Yellow were the broiling sands of New Mexico—a place he once called home.

There wasn’t much yellow in Alaska, and for that he’d been grateful. 

But maybe… maybe yellow wasn’t so bad. 

After all, yellow was your color—and it looked beautiful on you.

#jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman fanfiction #jesse pinkman fluff #jesse pinkman angst #jesse pinkman imagines #jesse pinkman fanfic #jesse pinkman drabbles #jesse pinkman x you #breaking bad fanfiction #jesse pinkman oneshot #jesse pinkman imagine

[delopsia]

Hello and welcome to "Del wants to ramble about the Outer Range season 2 trailer." I hope you're ready for a whole lot of nothing...

The CGI continues to remind us that it is, in fact, CGI. What the hell is this?

Flash scene of Wayne burning his damn house down. I'd know that bald spot anywhere.

Y'all already heard me ramble about this, but there's something wrong with this dinner scene. Aside from us knowing that the family is not together, there's one major oddity in the background.

Rhett's truck is an entirely different color.

That's his lightbar with the iconic four lights. Still a single-cab GMC Sierra. But Rhett's truck is blue. Not tan.

Wilder, we see Rhett's truck a few scenes later! You can even see how the hood is bent from hitting the billboard.

We finally confirm that Amy is 8. Even though the writer said she was 9...😑Brian Watkins, I had faith in you being correct. If you squint, you'll notice that Rhett's right hand is wounded. I doubt this stems from the rodeo because he always uses his left hand to hang on to the bull. The only injury we saw was to his left shoulder.

I'm taking the guess that up until now, Rhett likely didn't know that Amy went missing during the rodeo. Which may cause him to realize that Cecelia never abandoned him; she was just looking for Amy.

In the official Season 2 press notes, the following is mentioned: "After Amy's disappearance, Rhett is torn between his dreams of starting over somewhere new with Maria and being a dutiful son to Royal and Cecelia." So, I can assume that this might be what sets that into motion?

Offhanded, but this is SUCH a good look on her

MY TOUCH THEORY IS DOING THINGS. Look at Autumn's hand. Royal's touching the back of it, and as soon as he pulls away, the cute cosmic lights stop.

I'm so happy to see this random side character make a return. I was so nervous that she was one of those characters that appear for two minutes and that's it.

...this is a wild way for Joy to get in touch with her roots. But unfortunately for her, talking about it will more than likely get her a one-way trip to a psychiatrist.

Clyde is alive and well; bless him.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again. How the hell did Billy survive being shot through the neck??

and also

WAYNE? All it took was Billy feeding him a little bit of time powder and he's back to his old menacing ways. Meanwhile Luke looks like he lost part of his soul when that herd of buffalo ran him over.

Luke, what does this gesture mean. Strangle? Punch? My jaw hurts? And I assume this is Autumn we're seeing on the corner? Patricia maybe? I dunno.

PERRY YOU DAMN IDIOT. HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING FROM YOUR LAST BAR FIGHT?? I don't know who this other dude is but I hope he gets Perry square in the mouth <3 please I need to see Perry get his ass handed to him

This gives me so many thoughts. Rhett's shorter hair. He's a hand holder, your honor! Sentence him to a lifetime of snuggles and interlaced fingers!

So we know that for sure, Joy will somehow return to the present timeline. I don't know who could be driving this vehicle, but it looks a lot like the one that was sitting in the Tillerson's driveway in S1. We know Billy drives the older red vehicle, so this can either belong to Luke or Trevor.

Hear me out, hear me out. We can assume that the blonde woman is Autumn, considering the whole...cult thing. We've seen a handful of scenes of her with Luke in this trailer, so what if that's him holding her hand? That hat silhouette looks an awful lot like the one we saw in S1.

Alternatively, It can also be Rebecca and Perry, but I have no evidence to back this other than the blonde hair.

*in my best patrick star voice* WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?

I cannot be convinced that this is a real scene. It's gotta be some kind of dream that Royal is having, especially when you take note of the little white things floating around. It gives a sort of dreamy effect.

THIS IS SHERRIF JOY! Not only is the outfit the same in the following scene (not the one of her running lmao, that's just to show you what the gun looks like), but you can see the gun on her hip.

The hand on Rhett's throat is smaller than his is. Look how thick his fingers are compared to the mystery ones. I'm betting my left foot that this is a female character doing this to him. Autumn and Rebecca are on my list of suspects.

But also, what the hell is he looking at? Never once is he looking at the person doing this to him; he's looking at something behind the camera. Baby, what did they do to you this season?? 😭

I hit my picture limit, but Wayne (I think) diving into the hole made me giggle. He picked such an iconic pose.

Someone says quote "Time reveals all." But I don't think we've heard this voice before?? Who the hell is speaking?

This final shot is insane. Don't know who is coming out, presumably Perry or Wayne, but you could ABSOLUTELY spin Outer Range as a horror if you really wanted to. The elements are all there; they just need a little reworking!

#outer range #outer range spoilers #del's tin hat thoughts

[j0kers-light]

Hiyaa,

Could you write a little something in which the joker thinks he has lost his light? She's not actually dead but maybe kidnapped during a robbery or something. He thinks he saw her dying but idk how he finds out she is still alive. He goes after her and retrieves her. Of course she is both mentally and physically scarred but with time she ends up healing those scars.

I know it's not very detailed, I'm sorry🥺

His Lighthouse: Just One Check (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Just One Check- Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

@darthjokerisyourfather hey hi love! Thank you so much for lighting the spark that cured my writer's block! This is just what I needed to get back to writing although I couldn't find a cool title for this one. Might change that later lol.

I hope I did this one justice, if not message me and I can try again! 😭

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack @spaghettificationandpretzels @reneisance @alittlesmartcookie @ninacutebee16 @carydorse

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! 🖤✨ 

There was no telling what could happen at a bank in Gotham City. The average citizen risked the chance of being involved in a robbery or the greatest displeasure of being stuck in line for hours only for the teller to run out of cash halfway through. Both were a drag.

Today happened to be the former.

"It's just one check Joker. I'll be back before you now I'm gone." You already had your shoes on and were shrugging on a jacket when Joker intercepted you in the foyer.

He wanted you to stay with him today, not going out doing errands that could wait until whenever.

Joker watched your every move as you continued to get ready to leave him. Nothing he said persuaded you to stay so he resorted to straight up whining.

"Why can't ya wait til tomorrow? Come back and lay with meeeee..." His handsome pout was adorable and convincing... but it wouldn't work on you today.

"It can't wait. The banks will be closed tomorrow. National holiday, remember? Don't worry, I'll be back in an hour." You bounced back over to kiss Joker but he swatted you away, only to grab your face and smother you with kisses. Always loving you on his terms or not at all.

He hummed and tried to wrap his arm around your waist but you were hip to his schemes. You dodged his affections and made your way to the door. "Don't give me that look. I'll be back!"

"Yeah, yeah. One hour, Bunny. Your time starts errrrr now." He grumbled as you blew him a kiss and walked out the door.

He was serious about timing you but he added a few extra minutes for traffic. With that squared away, he returned to the couch to wait for your return.

It was just a check for a few hundred bucks, but you wanted to deposit it before it expired and/or you forgot about it.

You couldn't remember the last time you physically went to a bank. Normally Cindy's office handled your funds since you hated going in person. Perhaps your aversion generated from Joker confirming that criminals loved to rob banks based on certain statistics such as the bank's popularity and daily usage.

J went out his way to not hit the institutions you banked with so you could feel at ease whenever you did visit. He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

Thankfully, your personal bank wasn't well known and was just a quick fifteen minute train ride away. You arrived and walked into Darth HL. Bank, already sighing at the long line for assistance. You just wanted to deposit your check and leave but this might take a while.

You stood behind an elderly man and pulled out your phone to scroll through social media while you waited. The line hardly budged but patience was a virtue.

You were waiting for almost forty five minutes when four men burst through the front door and started yelling at everyone. You crouched down behind a decorative planter. A shame you had experience with armed robberies. It was simple Blüdaven instincts to duck and avoid being seen. You eyed the distance it would take you to run to the door and decided to stay put for now. It was too risky.

"EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW! CELLS! PAGERS! ANYTHING THAT CALLS OUT, WE WANT EM! STAY QUIET AND WE'LL ALL LEAVE HAPPY!"

One of them passed around a box where they demanded people to drop their cellular devices into. They were organized and efficient. It was clear they weren't amateurs. They worked around the room in a fraction of a minute and secured it as their own.

No one had spotted your hiding spot near the financial advisor's desks and you wanted to keep it that way. The first time visiting a bank in months and it just so happens to be robbed. What were the odds? Joker was gonna be pissed. You froze.

You promised him that you'd be back in an hour!

"ARE YOU DEAF OLD MAN? PHONE NOW!" One of the robbers walked up to the same old guy you were originally standing behind and shoved him with the end of a semi- automatic.

You weren't the only one who was concerned that they would start using unnecessary force. Case in point, the old man was not backing down.

He stood straighter and stared the robber right in the eye. "We won't be intimidated by you... thugs." He croaked out.

You hit your head softly against the planter box. Now was not the time for heroics old man..

"Oh yeah? Well guess what old timer? You should be. We didn't come here to play games." The robber raised his gun to shoot but someone in the crowd, another wannabe hero, stole their attention.

"Have you no respect for your elders!?" They cried out.

The entire room went silent after that. The robber eyed the new guy up and down through his ski mask.

"You wanna get popped too? Be my guest." He pulled the trigger and you and the crowd gasped in horror as the poor guy was gunned down along with the old man.

There was no hesitation; it happened so fast. It wasn't about the money. These men were bloodthirsty and obviously deranged.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" The leader shouted. Two men disappeared into the back while the other two patrolled the crowd and forced them to keep quiet.

All in all, only five minutes had passed since they entered the bank. It was the longest five minutes of your entire life.

Another guy in the crowd took a gamble and sent a text from their phone. His thumb hit the send button right as he heard footsteps stop behind him.

"I thought we said no phones. What's so important that you risked your life for?" He yanked the phone away and read the text.

Then a staring contest began. "Which one is she?" The masked criminal asked.

You strained to hear the reply from across the room but it sounded like, "I ain't telling you s__t!"

From your hiding spot you watched the remaining two thieves emerge from the back with large duffel bags leaking with banknotes. They gathered around their leader who was still arguing with the civilian caught having a phone.

"What's with him?" A thug asked.

"I recognized him from my old gang. Caught him sending out a text requesting backup with the code word Nightfall. Spread out and find her. This.. 'bank robbery' just got interesting."

Nightfall. You swallowed and tried not to draw any attention to your position. You knew what that meant.

Should your life ever be in danger, Joker created Nightfall and Daybreak procedures to protect his Light. Only insiders within his gang should have the knowledge to know what it entailed and who it protected.

You could handle a typical robbery– stay down and be quiet until the authorities showed up (what was taking the cops so long anyways?) but it wasn't safe here with your codename compromised. You had to leavenow.

They were beating up Joker's goon to try and extract more intel from him. You hated to use his suffering to your gain but while they were distracted, you pulled out your own cell to call Joker.

You prayed that he would answer since he rarely did. You sighed in relief when he picked up the phone on the second ring.

And for once he cut right to the chase. "What's going on?"

"They're robbing the bank. I need–" Anything else you were fixing to say was cut short when someone took your phone. Joker called out your name in panic.

Joker saw the distress message your security detail sent to the group chat and he was already throwing on his purple coat to rush to your location. He was taking the stairs down to your lobby but he froze when he heard a gunshot and you scream in pain.

All the air left his lungs hearing absolute silence before the call was disconnected.

Joker had to sit down for a second to process what he heard. His mind went over every possible scenario. He knew the odds but deep down he prayed to every higher power that you were still alive. You had to be or he would go even more insane.

By the time Joker and men arrived at Darth HL. Bank it was swarmed with GCPD pigs and other emergency personnel. They all whispered the same verdict. A robbery gone horribly wrong.

No survivors and almost two million dollars was missing.

Coroners were still wheeling out body bags and Joker's life screeched to a halt watching each one being loaded into white vans. None would leave the premises until he was triple sure none of them held your body.

"Check. Every. Last. One." He ordered.

Frost wanted to rest his hand on Joker's shoulder but thought against it. J was slowly losing his grip on reality and his body tremors became more pronounced as more bodies were wheeled out the bank.

Thirty two bags in total. Thirty two times his heart would race until grief slowly kicked in.

It couldn't be true. He refused to believe his Light was gone. You kissed him goodbye over an hour ago. You promised you'd be back! Joker refused to imagine a life without you in it, so he simply chose not to. Deny. Deny. Deny. Deny until he knew for sure.

This did not happen at a tiny bank with only two locations in the entire city. You assumed smaller banks were protected from robberies and you weren't wrong. Larger corporations like The Bank of Gotham or Gotham Merchant's Bank were the usual targets amongst thieves. Bigger banks meant more money.

Joker had never heard of Darth or whatever HL. stood for until today, although his mind visualized the bank's logo that he saw on a letter one or twice. Some kind of bird carrying a tree branch in its beak.

It was a useless detail in the clog of his dark depressing thoughts. He couldn't think straight.

Why did you leave when he practically begged you to stay? So what if the banks were closed tomorrow? If you needed the money, Joker had plenty of it! It didn't make sense why you insisted on doing such a mundane task when cuddling with Joker was a far better alternative. Now his Light was gone and the world seemed so dark without you in it. Joker honestly felt like throwing up.

Over the throng of investigators roaming about and the sound of cameras snapping evidence, Joker heard an officer talking to the Commissioner.

"Sir, we might have a hostage situation here. We went over the security tapes and the suspects were seen carrying a young female along with the money out the back."

"Was she?..." Commissioner Gordon trickled off. The officer assumed he was asking about her status and weighed in.

"Alive, but it appears she's injured. I'm sorry, the footage is really outdated to be sure. This bank doesn't have modern security measures. Heck, their panic button isn't up to code. Could've saved their lives and alerted us sooner if it were. We won't know any more information until we get Analysis to clean up the footage back at HQ."

"Alright, good work Rodriguez. Let's work with what we got to create a description for the missing persons."

Their conversation was the spark that gave Joker hope. A possible female hostage. It would explain why he couldn't come to terms with you being gone. He felt it in his bones that you were still alive. He was a fool to not trust his gut.

Frost and the others regrouped after a while and gave Joker even more hope. "She's not in any of the bags. We.. we can't find her Boss." Mac sighed.

"That's because she's alive." Joker said.

The trio glanced at each other with mixed emotions. Denial was the first stage of grief and it was hitting Joker hard. Frost was the closest to J personally so he decided to be the bearer of bad news to his old friend.

"J, I know you... cared for B deeply.. but she's gone."

If looks could kill, Frost would be dead ten times over.

Joker's eyes were frozen pine staring at his right hand man. "My Light is not dead. One female hostage. I want her found." He growled.

There was no point in trying to convince Joker. Until he had tangible proof that proved otherwise, he would staunchly believe that you're alive. They all nodded and spread out to get leads yet there was still uncertainty in the air.

What if this was all for naught and if so? Who would remove the wool from Joker's eyes so he could see the truth?

It took Joker and his men two days to find out who was responsible for taking you and another day just to track them down. You were alive after all. Getting you back however proved to be quite the challenge.

Gotham City was a huge landmass consisting of three connecting islands but Joker would leave no stone unturned in his search to find you. If he had to personally search every alleyway, then so be it.

He would not stop until his Light was safe in his arms, right where you belonged.

Deep in Chinatown and ironically not too far from where you and Joker first met, you were lying on an old, dirty mattress. You had a nasty cough and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a minute due to fatigue.

The four men that kidnapped you were standing around arguing amongst themselves and paid you little mind.

"This has gone on long enough! He's looking for her like a bloodhound. It's not a matter of if, but when he tracks her down, we're dead meat! We should cut our losses while we're still alive."

"I agree with Scotty. We should split the money and dip. We can't be on the run forever. He's got too much rep and power to try and escape as a group." The first two thugs nodded their heads right as another tossed in his two cents.

"Woah woah, wait a min. We can't just bail." He gestured to you lying on the floor. "She's seen all of our faces! That b__ch will rat us out! We should off her now."

Scotty took offense to that and bared his teeth. "You think she's in any position to snitch?"

You coughed again and they all glanced at you before returning to their meeting. It was going on day three and they were running out of safehouses to take refuge in. Right when they would settle in, Joker and his men would find the hideout, forcing them back on the run. This was the tenth move so far and each one put a strain on your already deteriorating health.

"Yall a bunch of pussies! Go ahead and run but the money stays with me. I'm the only one that deserves it!" Their leader said.

His comment quickly received backlash amongst the other three.

"Are you smokin dick? What's a dead man gonna do with all that money? He's gonna find her, kill you, and then us for helping your stupid a**. D__n it! I knew I should've said no when you hit me up. It's never a simple job with you!"

You felt like your chest was on fire and you jackknifed into a semi sitting position to cough. The sudden movement pulled at your wound. You were pretty sure it was infected and your fever was a result of the lack of medical attention administered to it. Between your blood loss and dehydration, they were unknowingly killing you.

"Can I please have some water?" You asked anyone in general. You tried opening your eyes but the light in the room was enough to have you cringing away like a newborn.

One of the guys was soft on you and bent down to help you drink from a plastic bottle. It was obvious that you needed help.

He guided the bottle to your lips. "Don't drink it too fast, there ya go. How's your head?"

Your voice cracked, "Still h-hurts." Scotty helped you lay back on the mattress before checking on your wound.

Upon first sight, it was still reddish brown from both dried and fresh blood. He peeled back the crudely made bandage– tossing out a half-hearted apology when you groaned, only to grimace at the infected entry wound.

"Judging by your ugly mug it ain't looking too good." Another guy bent down to take a look but Scotty batted their hand away. He didn't want anyone else touching you.

"She has a fever..." Scotty said. His leader scoffed and stood up, "Listen man! She needs medical attention!" He begged. Was he the only one around here with a heart?

"F__k that, we need a plan. The Joker is closing in on us and if I go down..." Their so-called leader laughed sharply to himself. "Y'all are going down with me."

Tires screeched outside and the remaining two thugs rushed over to the window to check it out.

They watched as some average, low level looking guys stepped out and walked into the apartment building across the street. For now, the coast was still clear.

"I've had it man! It's like I'm paranoid or something. Every little thing is making me jump and it's all because you," He pointed at Rico, "Got too greedy! You three can stick around and spend the money, whatever; I'm out." He grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair and left.

The remaining thugs stared at each other in silence. If Joey walked out on a job then it was serious.

"Look, Rico. I respect you man but Scotty got a point. This job has gone on long enough. Look at her. She's sick because you shot her like some deranged idiot and now you dug a hole you can't get out of. I'm not going down for your mistakes! Whatever you need the money for, is it really worth your life? We're talking about The Joker here. You gotta be ten toes down confident there's a way out before you get us all killed."

It was quiet for a moment until Joey burst through the door in a panic. He locked it back shut and started to frantically load his gun.

"Woah, what's got you all spooked?" Mike asked with a laugh.

"The clown. He's here! I told you he'd find her! Ohhhhh man, we're so f__ked!"

Everyone talked at once trying to make sure Joey wasn't pulling their leg.

"Whaddya mean 'the clown is here?" Mike asked outright. Then Scotty chimed in, "Did you see him for yourself?"

Joey shut them all up with a wave of his arms. "No! No! But I saw his trio! They were coming up the stairs when I spotted them! There was no other way out so I came back!" He turned to look Rico in the eye. "What do we do?"

"It was just those three?"

Joey nodded, "Yeah." He frowned when Rico laughed before responding. Their leader just brushed off his concern like it was nothing.

"No need to get bent outta shape, their lightweights! Especially the blond. He's just a frat boy playing henchmen, trust me." They all shared a laugh but Joey didn't join in.

He saw the look on their faces. Joker's men meant business.

There was nothing to laugh at in his opinion and he spoke up again to try and talk some sense into everyone else. "W-What about the other two? I heard the rumors. Frost is supposedly ex-military and the other guy is like some mercenary for hire."

You snorted in the background, "I'd start praying if I were you. Like it'll do you any good."

Your taunts triggered another coughing fit right as Rico heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He spun around to snap at Scotty. "Shut her up!" He hissed.

"I'm sorry." Scotty said to you before he covered your mouth and pinned your hands down.

It was a temporary fix to silence you as the roar of footsteps went past the apartment door. Everyone held their breath as they passed over and kept going. Rico watched them through the peephole with his hand hovering over his gun.

They all breathed a sigh of relief until Scotty yelped when you bit his palm.

You couldn't breathe. You sucked in some air so you could cough, much louder this time, and that ended with a concerning wheeze. The walls of the rundown apartment they held you in were paper thin and not the best for hiding. You easily gave away their position.

Rico turned to order Scotty to move you into the only bedroom right as the front door was kicked in.

Joey was the first to go. His body dropped dead and the other three scrambled for cover right as a shootout began. Only six shots rang out before Joker's voice silenced all motion.

"Mac! If you accidentally shoot my Light I'll rip your f__king head off!"

Joker sounded frayed and pissed. This wouldn't end well.

Mike and Rico dragged Joey's dead body out of the way before they took cover behind the couch that separated the small living room from the kitchen. Then they listened to their unexpected guests arguing.

"What do you suggest we do then, J?!" Mac yelled back. Joker scratched his head with the barrel of his gun. "Uh. Knock before you enter?"

"Unbelievable." Mac whispered to himself.

A gloved hand emerged from the hallway to playfully rasp against the door. "Knock knock, uhh anyone home?"

You cried out when Scotty tried picking you up. Joker heard you and poked his head in to locate you. "Bunny?!"

Frost dragged J back into the hallway right as a shot missed his head. They both looked at the bullet hole in the wall with intrigue. These common thugs were packing some heat.

"Uh thanks for the save." J said. Frost just shook his head.

He gestured for Mac to do this thing. The former frat boy grinned and raised his voice to carry into the apartment.

"Well that was a little too close to comfort! Let's negotiate boys before the landlord starts charging damaging fees! Hand over the girl nice and easy and we'll leave the way we came. No fuss, no muss."

"Yeah right. As if you'll let us live! WE AIN'T STUPID!" Rico yelled right back. He stole a glance at you being corralled into the bedroom. You were sweating bullets and you looked absolutely miserable.

He still had the upper hand here. If he was gonna die here, he might as well get his revenge before heading out.

Rico yelled at his former boss across the way.

"Does she mean the world to you, Joker?" It was a rhetorical question yet he paused for dramatic effect, before answering it himself.

"Of course she does. You wasted thousands of dollars on her security. We risked our lives for some b___h we never met!"

"And? Your point?" Joker dragged out. Was this guy's problem? Risking your life was a part of the job description.

Mac and Neo both shared a 'is this guy for real?' look.

"That nasty cough you heard? That's nothing compared to the gunshot wound to her stomach. My gift to you for all the s__t you put me through!." Rico yelled.

The bedroom door slammed shut with you inside and that was Mike and Rico's cue to start fighting back.

It was two against four but the odds were in their favor with the apartment layout. They could pick off Joker and his goons the second they walked through the door. Revenge was within his grasp.

Too bad Rico didn't take into account Joker's desperation to get you back. J had only a brief glimpse of the room when he poked his head in earlier but he got a vague layout of the place in that timeframe.

With you tucked away in the bedroom, all Joker had to do was aim at the old leather couch the two thugs were hiding behind.

Joker nodded at Neo who was scoping the angles with his gun. The mercenary gave the thumbs up. He had a clear shot. J knew Neo would take it with no hesitation.

Mac saw the confirmation and sighed dramatically. As a farce, he tried to make one final deal.

"You sure you don't wanna settle? One million each, with immunity, we won't hunt you down blah blah jazz? We just want the girl back. There's no need for bloodshed."

"F__k you and—"

Neo didn't let them finish their sentence. It only took four rounds to pick off his targets.

It ricocheted off the ceiling light and the walls before sinking into the target. Frost and Joker rushed in and found the door to the bedroom before their bodies had time to hit the floor. Joker could hear the final thug inside freaking out along with you trying to calm him down, in between gasps of air.

"Scotty l-listen to me.. I can protect you. You've been so kind to me.. You have to... drop your weapon though. Please. Stand behind me. Let me s-save you."

"You can't help me! He's gonna kill me! I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry."

Frost glared at J when they both heard you start to panic. Joker didn't care about the outcome; he just kicked the door in, saw Scotty holding a gun to your head and reacted.

"S-Stay back! I'll.. I'll do it!"

Joker threw a knife and it sunk into your captor's neck, killing him instantly. You fell with Scotty's dead weight and groaned when you landed on your wound.

Hands quickly pulled you away and you briefly noticed Mac, Frost, and Neo securing the room before your focus landed on Joker.

His eyes were frantically scanning you all over and they widened when he saw your infected gunshot wound. These idiots shot you in the stomach and failed to give you medical aid. Joker's worries shot to the roof seeing the wound oozing blood and pus.

You were burning up and losing unconsciousness.

"Bunny? Bunny, look at me?! No no noooo, stay with me, Y/n. C'mon doll." He cupped your cheek and gently patted it to keep you alert. He hated seeing your eyes struggling to stay open.

The adrenaline rush of Joker coming to save you had up and left. The only thing that remained was a splitting headache and a numb feeling that was spreading all over.

It had been three days since you kissed Joker goodbye and at times, you thought you'd never see him again. Now he was here, holding you close, pleading for you to keep your eyes open— but you were so tired.

He yelled at Frost to page Sarai when he saw your eyelids flutter close again. The doc would know what to do in this situation. Joker could only hold you close and keep you conscious until she arrived. There was no way he would risk trying to move you in such a fragile state.

"I'm sorry Joker." Your timid voice immediately gained Joker's attention.

"Nothing to be uh, sorry for mypretty girl."

"I.. it took longer t-than an hour." You reached up to cup Joker's cheek. He kept your hand there with his own.

"I am never going to a bank. Never again." You weakly jerked your head over at Mac. "Get him to do my finances from now on." You whined.

Joker cracked a smile watching you go back and forth with his book keeper. If you had the energy to make jokes then you'd be perfectly fine. Sure you'd have a nasty scar and a brutal recovery process, but nothing you couldn't handle with Joker by your side.

Joker looked up at Frost with a smug grin. "See? Told ya my Light ain't dead."

#thanks for the ask! #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #joker x y/n #heath ledger #reader insert #black!fem!reader #ledger!joker #clingy!joker #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #heath joker #dark knight joker #joker x reader #ledger!joker x reader #his lighthouse

[five-rivers]

Moving On

AO3

For @ave-aria

.

“Have you ever thought about… moving on?”

.

Skulker scoffed.  “Moving on?  That’s a myth.”  He turned back to the weapon he was sharpening.  “A fairytale the Dead tell themselves.  The only thing that’s after life is this, and only if they’re lucky.”  He held the blade up to the light, examining its edge.  “They pretend there’s something after death.  Well.  Is there something after that, too?  The whole thing is ridiculous.  At least on Earth there’s evidence of ghosts.  There’s nothing to support this nonsense.”

.

Spectra smiled, her too-red lips curving perfectly.  Too perfectly, as always.  Her false skin betrayed her.  “Why do you ask?  Contemplating your own post-mortality?”  A white sliver appeared between her lips.  Her real teeth.  “I don’t think you need to worry about that, sweetheart.  After all, to move on, you need to have your affairs put in order.  You need peace.  Satisfaction!  And you, well…  Look at you.  You’re a mess.  No, I can’t see you ever getting satisfaction.  You can’t even get a good night’s sleep.  Can you?  Be honest.”

.

“Moving on?” repeated Poindexter, fidgeting nervously.  “That’s a bit grim, don’t you think?  I’d never–”  He looked away.  “I used to think I wanted that.  To go somewhere else.  And then I did.  And then I wanted to go somewhere else again, and I…  Someone told me, once, that wherever you go, you bring yourself.”  He adjusted his glasses.  “I don’t know what they were trying to say.  For a long time, I thought that meant I was the problem.  But.  That wasn’t true, not really.”  He squared his shoulders.  “I stopped looking into that kind of stuff.  You should, too.”

.

“Why would we leave the Far Frozen?” asked Frostbite.  “We’ve always been here.  It’s our ancestral– Ah.  I see.  Moving on, not from here, but from the Ghost Zone as a whole?  From, for lack of a better word, this plane of existence?  Well, there’s never been a documented case of something like that spontaneously happening, but I suppose ghosts that have Ended have moved on, in a sense, although that’s rarely peaceful in any sense of the word.  Why do you ask?”

.

“That would be somewhere under number one thirty-two,” said Ghost Writer, not looking up from his computer.  “Possibly one eleven or one twenty-nine.”  He continued typing, only looking up after a minute.  “The Dewey Decimal system.  You have heard of it?”  He looked away again.  “That should tell you all you need to know on the subject.  Now, go away.  I’m writing.”

.

Johnny started laughing.  “Oh, that’s a good one.  Moving on.  Yeesh.”  He wiped a tear from his eye.  “Oh, wait.  You’re serious.  Yikes.  Okay, so.  I dunno.  Like, I’ve got everything I want here.  My girl, my best bud,” Shadow shrieked encouragingly at this, “my bike, nothin’ but open roads in front of me.  This’s paradise.  What’s moving on got on that?  Nothin’, that’s what.”

.

“I’ve already moved on!  I’ve got the move on, I’ve got the groove on!  I’m whatcha wanna put the tube on!  And!  My latest invention!  Will let me, Technus, master of technology and everything that uses LEDs!  Harsh the vibes of anyone who tries to stop me!  From! Taking over the world! Ahahahahaha ha!  Also, you’re way too young to think about that kind of thing.”  Technus’s current body rearranged itself into a massive gun.  “Now, perish!”

.

“Moving on,” said Kitty, thoughtfully.  “Johnny said you’d asked him about it.”  She leaned against the brick wall, seemingly not caring about the grunge her bright red jacket would pick up.  “I’ve thought about it.  Every time Johnny and I break up, which I guess makes it all the time.  But not, like, seriously.  Death, afterlife, whatever… it might not be everything I wanted, right?  But it’s got Johnny, and that’s all I really need.”

.

“MOVING ON?  IS THAT A MOVING COMPANY?  THE BOX GHOST GREATLY ENJOYS MOVING COMPANIES!  THEIR VEHICLES ARE ALWAYS STOCKED WITH WONDERFUL RECTANGULAR BOXES!  Oh, uh.  I MEAN, FEAR ME!  I AM THE BOX GHOST!”

.

“Eh?  Whazzat?”

“Kid wants ta know ‘bout movin’ on, Ernie.”

“Ha!” the third vulture said.  “Movin’ on.  Movin’ on.  That’s more of a fool’s game than this.”  He threw down his cards.  “Fold.”

“Four?”

“Fold.”

“Ya don’t havta shout.  Movin’ on, huh.  No one’s asked us that inna while, eh?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Two thousand and ten years old, at this point we’ve seen it all.  Loadsa movin’ on.”

“Mostly ‘cause we pecked ’em ta death, mind.”

“But, yeah, people move on.  Sometimes they even move to Florida, am I right?”  The vulture waved one of his wings and cards slipped out from between his feathers.  

“You cheating b–”

.

“It’s something I’ve considered,” said Desiree, raising her head from where it had been resting on her coiled tail.  “It’s even something I’ve helped others consider.  Why, are you here to make a wish?  No?  More’s the pity.”  She sighed heavily, resting her chin on her manicured and hennaed fingers.  “Of course, my curse keeps me here, or I would have already left.”  She sighed, heavily.  “It’s lovely, the other world.  Exactly as the old mullahs said.  Do let me know if you change your mind, won’t you?”

.

“I have not,” said Pandora, in her path to adjust one of the hedges of her maze.  “The subject does not hold much interest for me, I’m afraid.  Oh, certainly, I have seen those who claim to know the secrets of moving on, who have certain predictions about what comes next.  But I always wonder… If they are so wise, if they have so much knowledge, why do they not go themselves?”  She shook her head.  “The next world as unknowable to us as this one was when we yet lived.  If it exists at all.”

.

“There are better alternatives if you tire of this world.”  Nocturne’s robes flowed behind them, a hole in the universe leading to the void.  “More reliable alternatives.  After all, who knows what lies beyond?  Why risk that when you can have everything you dream about?”  He smiled sharply, leaning close.  “Why waste time on that fantasy when you can have… mine?”

.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Plasmius.  “Moving on?  From what?  I don’t have anything to move on from.  There’s nothing I have to move on from.  I’m not holding on to anything.  I’m not obsessed.  I swear, if this is another cat thing, I’m not responsible for what I’m about to do to you.”

.

“Well, I’ve heard some ghosts talk about it,” said Dani, swinging her legs back and forth where she was perched on the tree branch.  “But it’s a bit different for me, isn’t it?  There wasn’t anything before for me.  There’s just… me.  Now.  I guess I have some baggage.  Everyone does, and, you know, I’m a clone, so there’s some extra baggage right there.  But what am I supposed to do?  Drop it all and go into the light?  Come on.  I’ve got stuff to do.  Places to see.  Things to eat.”  She leaned back and looked up at the sky.  “Maybe once I’ve done all the stuff I haven’t got the chance to, I’ll look into it more, but for now?  Nah.  Not for me.”

.

“Well, sure,” said Danny.  “Some day, probably.  I’m not…”  He looked away, pressing his lips together.  “I don’t do well when I’m on my own.  So… If that ever happens, I think I’d look into ways to do that… safely.  If it doesn’t happen naturally.  You don’t have to worry about me doing that, though.  I mean.  It’d be after, um.”  He crossed his arms.  “Nothing lasts forever.  I get that.  I wouldn’t–  It wouldn’t be like before.  Why are we talking about this, anyway?  Anything like moving on is ages off for all of us.  Right?  There’s not something you’re not telling me, is there?”

.

The regular ticking of the clocks provided a stark counterpoint to the irregular flicker of the candle flames Clockwork floated in front of.  Wax dripped heavily to the floor.  He turned slightly, his profile in sharp contrast with the light behind it.  “Nothing lasts forever, as I know you’ve been told.  Even in the undying realm of ghosts, everything, and everyone, has its time.”

.Jazz chewed the end of her pencil, but put it to the paper to write: Ultimately, this line of inquiry led to more questions than answers…

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2023

[nuevialnst]

Bliss! You're an amazing writer that needs an Idea?

Since it's Easter! What about a Fluff fic of RE4R Leon and Reader doing an Easter Egg hunt, proposing to Reader with a Golden egg as the ring is inside! It sounds so cute😭

Idea is so vivid making me picture this and make fake scenarios before I go to sleep, but yes I love this idea!

This is so cute Leon egg hunting with the reader <;33

— Egg Hunting Proposal

Pairings: Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon takes you easter egg hunting in town square, he planned a secret proposal and you had challenged leon in finding the golden egg bc you get this amazing prize, and when he found it he called you over to him getting down on one knee….

Cw. Straight up just fluff, egg hunting w Leon who is dressed in a suit with bunny ears on, the reader admiring the cute children running around them and hunting for eggs, kissing, hand holding, and leon proposing to the reader in front of almost everyone all eyes on both of you. NOT PROOF READ!

Character Count: 10.7k

Waking up on a late sunday morning was never quite as pleasant and relaxing as it had been in the summer. Even if one didn’t have a very strict work schedule at the moment. The sky outside their large bay window, though still heavily overcast with dark grey clouds, was already beginning to lighten into soft pinks and oranges.

There were two things that could make waking up so much more tolerable than this. One would be a fresh cup of coffee and the other would probably be the smell of freshly brewed pancakes and bacon frying. As you turned around and stretched your arms above your head you noticed something missing from the bed besides the empty space. You sat up and looked around. It took you a moment or two, but eventually your eyes landed on a sticky note that was on the table reading.

`I went to get groceries, but I might be back and now cooking breakfast for you, love. <3 ` After you read the note you headed. out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen, which your boyfriend smiled at you, looking up from his spot in front of the stove. “Morning. Hope you slept well, my love.” You kissed him softly and nodded. “Mmm...it was good.” You replied. “Did you have any trouble?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head and smiled warmly at him. He was an excellent cook who loved to learn new recipes, especially ones that seemed to appeal to his creative side. But, most importantly, he was always extremely kind and considerate even when cooking, just like everything else about him was. You loved that about him. “It was perfect actually.” you said. “Thank you, honey.” He added and gave you another quick kiss, then continued making breakfast. Your job was simply to keep him company while he cooked. Then he checked his phone and got a reminder that today was easter, which he had knew and also forgotten.

He cursed under his breath and looked up at you apologetically. You just chuckled at his silly expression. His face broke into a grin as soon as he saw the look on your face. “What is it?” You asked. “No, nothing…” he said with a smile. “Well then….what is it?” you asked again. This time he let out a sigh before answering. “I forgot that today is the day that we celebrate…” ‘’What do you mean by celebrate?” You asked. “Easter….you know….the holiday that everyone celebrates?” he responded with a hint of amusement in his voice and a small shrug. You couldn’t help laughing.

This wasn’t the first time someone forgot that Easter celebrated this day too, but it certainly hadn’t happened often before.

“Oh….yeah..I kinda forgot about it. What did you plan on doing?” He shrugged again. “I don’t know...maybe we could go to town square? Just to take a break and relax before the next long week of work.” He finished with a smirk on his lips, which you returned with a fond shake of your head and a sigh.

“Sounds great…” you said and leaned in to kiss him again. “Now eat up, baby, or it will be crowded by the time we get there.” You told him with a wink. That made him chuckle. He nodded and began cutting up his food.

After both of you had eaten and cleaned up the dishes from breakfast, they got ready to leave for town square, where people were already gathering. As the two of you walked hand in hand towards town center, they talked about what they planned to do during the week and whether or not they would do anything special with each other.

You found yourself thinking about how much you loved the feeling of your hand being held by his, intwined by a bond that cannot be broken. The two of you walking in the park, waiting for the egg hunt to start you were watching the children play and enjoying themselves immensely.

There were many different games and activities going on everywhere: there were games and games, and people running through the park chasing each other around, trying to catch them as they ran away from you.

At one point, one girl tried to throw one of her eggs into the air and catch it with the net attached to the end of a stick. She succeeded, but only after she fell down and scraped her knee. Her mother rushed over to her and helped her up. You laughed at the sight of the little girl’s mother fussing over her daughter, who was clearly embarrassed. You thought to yourself that it would be a blesssing to have a child of your own someday. Your partner must have sensed you thinking these thoughts because he squeezed your hand gently, letting you know he was listening.

A smile grew on your face at the thought of having a kid one day. When the egg hunt started a group of kids came sprinting past you on their way to their next target: a basket full of eggs. It reminded you of when you were little, yet you could still make memories similar.

The speakers propped around town went off `Egg hunt will begin in two minutes`, followed by a countdown of three.

All of the children ran back to where their family was standing and started playing. You and Leon joined meeting up at the plaza to begin, not having pay attention to the fact that Leon had been talking to the mayor.

After saying hi and taking pictures, you were on your way to the eggs when a little girl had gotten lost from her group and ended up behind you and beside Leon, who happened to be standing right in front of you. The little girl was holding a large stuffed rabbit, with its ears drooping sadly and its big sad eyes peering up at you. You felt like you needed to say something to comfort the child. “Oh...poor thing.” You said softly as you crouched down to her level and picked her up in your arms. The girl looked up at you with huge doe eyes and sniffled, “Thank you.” you smiled at her and put her back on the ground.

“Do you need anything else while you wait, sweetheart?” She grabbed both Leon’s and your hand leading you to the golden egg in the middle of the square. “Here, take this!” She offered Leon the egg. He took it in surprise and looked at it for some time. “Um…is this what you want?” you asked, looking back at the girl, nodding vigorously. “Okay…” Leon replied with a smile, tucking the egg inside his basket, as he went to do something.

You reached out to the child, but stopped short when you heard another voice behind you. You turned around quickly, expecting another little kid to collect her. It wasn’t, but Instead it was Leon taking the golden egg out of his basket lowering himself down on one knee as he faced the you. Opening the golden egg to a beautiful silver ring, looking into your eyes, “My heart, my soul, and all of my treasures towards the one girl I love. Would you marry me, Y/N?” He asked softly. You looked up at him, tears filling up the corners of your eyes.

“Yes!” you cried. You dropped to your knees in front of him and took his hands in yours, smiling up at him brightly. “Yes, of course I will, my love. Of course I will.” You answered. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with happiness. You wrapped both of your arms around his neck and stood up. As soon as you did he pulled you close and placed his soft lips on yours. Kissing him deeply and passionately.

You could hear the crowd cheering around the square, but all you could concentrate on was Leon.

You didn't care about anything else, you could have been kissing anyone, but you knew that it was him and only him that mattered.

He pulled you closer and you rested your forehead against his, smiling into his skin. Your hands moved up to his face and stroked his cheeks lightly. Your thumbs brushing across his slightly chubby cheeks before resting against the corners of his lips. He opened his mouth to speak when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Both of you separated abruptly, turning around, surprised that someone was there. The little girl from earlier had taken the basket of eggs from his arms and was looking at them with wide eyes as well as a shy and confused smile on her lips. You knelt down and smiled at her. “Hello, dear….do you need anything?” you asked. “Uh….no….” She mumbled, but still looking up at you with big round eyes and said, “Could you braid my hair?” You grinned widely and looked back at Leon who had a loving look on his face.

“Of course, why didn't you ask sooner!?” You exclaimed excitedly,Leon took the basket from you and you kneeled down in front of the girl. You carefully brushed her messy blonde hair, which reached her shoulders, to either side of her face. The little girl giggled at your actions and you couldn’t help but smile as well as you braided her hair.

Once done you let her sit on your lap as you tied the last knot with a blue ribbon you had brought with you earlier in case your hair was in your face. You stood up with the girl in your arms. “You have such pretty hair, missy.” You commented as you admired her braid. She nodded and then looked up at you with a grin.

As the three of you continued to walk down the street together, the little girl began talking, telling you about how fun it was to be here, and also explaining to you how much fun Easter was to everyone. You and Leon had listened carefully to every word she said, even though it was a bit hard for you to understand because most of the words seemed to come out of left field sometimes.

Yet, it somehow didn't matter because you didn't need to understand everything she was saying, just enough to listen to what she had to say until you saw her mom walking towards the two of you. “Thank you for watching my daughter, I was worried sick where she could have went!” the woman said as she gave you a hug. You patted her on the back and replied, “It’s no trouble, really, any parent would have been scared if their child disappeared.” She smiled at you and kissed her daughter on the cheek, causing you and Leon to smile too.

“So…where should we go now?” Leon said, grabbing your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, and giving it a small squeeze. You shrugged “We should be heading home and spending the rest of the day together.”

“Sounds nice.” Leon agreed and began making his way slowly backwards toward your house. Before you got too far ahead of him, Leon turned towards you and asked with a mischievous look on his face “How about we have a little getaway party?” You chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him “A little getaway party? That sounds like a lot of work…”

“Come on, you know you want to~” Leon smirked at you seductively. You stared at him for a moment longer before rolling your eyes playfully and walking faster so you could pull away from him. Leon laughed aloud and ran after you, trying to keep up with your speed, which you knew you could easily overtake. By the time you had caught up to him again, you both doubled over with laughter, and then you began walking back home.

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