(shows up on Marinette's balcony post-angsty-reveal)
What are you doing?
Waiting for my girlfriend. Maybe you've seen her - pretty girl, leaps tall buildings in a single bound, carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet still manages to laugh at some of my puns.
Relating to the kids not recognizing each other and somewhat inspired by the analysis of Howl’s Moving Castle that I saw about Sophie’s magic… We’ve mentioned before that the Miraculous probably have the power to hide your identity, even from someone who is actively trying to figure it out, like Alya or Chat (because otherwise these kids are the most oblivious teens in existence) and I think that’s how it works as well…
Dream A Little Dream Of Me - Film Noir AU in which The Punisher is more like a detective, and Karen Page is the beautiful jazz singer Frank damn near falls in love with at first sight.
It was just supposed to be another case, just another run-of-the-mill stakeout, getting information on the bad guys. He was just supposed to go to the bar- what kind of mob boss meets in a jazz club at eight o’clock on a Thursday night?- and get confirmation that they were pedaling hard drugs before he started shooting at anybody. So he had gone into the smoky club, got himself a dark booth two tables down from the guys and their mistresses, and had waited, sipping on some whisky.
But then she had walked onto the stage.
He hadn’t really been paying attention to the night’s entertainment, too focused on listening to the conversations being held only a few feet away, but he couldn’t help but notice when the tall and beautiful blonde had walked onto the small stage, taking her place at the microphone among the jazz musicians. She gave the small crowd a smile, her red lips parting to dazzle him with her teeth, and then the band had picked up a tune. Frank would be lying if he said he hadn’t held his breath waiting for her to start singing.
And then she opened her mouth and the sweetest sound Frank had ever heard poured from her lips.
“Stars shining bright above you,” she sang, and Frank recognized the song from the radio. “Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you.’”
Frank had lost focus on the mob bosses, which he knew he would regret later, but he couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to what he believed to be an angel on the stage in front of him. Her eyes roamed aroundthe room as she sang, all previous insecurity gone, and suddenly her eyes found his.
“But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me,” she sang in her smooth voice as she held his gaze, and Frank almost missed the cocking of a pistol two tables away.
But he hadn’t, and as he stood from his booth and drew his own gun, he didn’t miss the understanding look on the singer’s face as she realized who he was.
He fired a few shots at the escaping gangsters and someone yelled, “Everyone, get down! It’s The Punisher!” He smiled grimly at his title as he ran out of the club, not giving the blonde woman another glance as he chased the gangsters out into the dark streets of New York.