most girls jump out of cakes

Bon Amiversaire!

(my tags were out of order on the post so I thought I would just write a drabble)

Based off this post!!

Ladybug was early to patrol.

SItting on the rooftop with the night’s breeze ruffling her pigtails, her only thought was if Alya could see me now, actually early for something.

It wasn’t often that Chat Noir was late to patrol. He, like herself, relished the time they spent bantering and racing on the Parisian rooftops with bright smiles and happiness blooming like a hearth in their chests.

“Ah- hey there- my- Lady,” Chat’s voice rang out, words choked past panting.

Ladybug turned to greet him but instead of meeting glowing green eyes, she turned to a face full of white frosted dotted with sprinkles. “Wh-what’s this for?”

“It’s a cake!” he bounced on his toes.

The… ‘cake’ he held was lopsided. The grin that lit up his face was lopsided to match.

Ladybug got to her feet, taking the cake gently from his eager hands. “Err, yeah, what’s the occasion?”

Chat’s eyes lit up with playfulness as his cheeks flushed a color that sent a feeling she couldn’t name down her spine. “Oh, my Lady, how could you forget?”

“Hmmm,” she tapped her lip. “Is it my birthday? I think I would remember my birthday… is it your birthday? Is it someone’s birthday?”

He stepped forward, quietly chuckling as he took the cake from her and set it down. His fingertips were light on her cheeks as he said, “Buginette, I’m offended! How could you forget our… amiversaire.”

Ladybug couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled into her throat even if she tried. “I don’t- know if I want- to kick your off this roof- or hug you,” she choked out between her giggles.

Pressing his forehead to hers, he laughed in the space between their lips. “I’ll take either. It would be my honor to get kicked off a roof by you.”

“You’re a dork.” she shoved him gently. “I’m assuming you made the cake yourself?”

“It’s the most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen, isn’t it?” there was laughter in his voice. “Took a few pointers from a friend.”

“Hmm, I’d say the cakes at ‘Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie and Patisserie’ are just a little prettier. Besides, the girl who decorates them is pretty cute.” Ladybug grinned.

Chat’s smile was lit with pride. “Marinette.”

“Wh-What?” Ladybug nearly jumped out of her suit.

“Marinette decorates them. She is very talented. She was the one who gave me tips.” Chat grinned.

Wait wait wait. I’m Marinette. And Marinette gave Chat tips on how to bake a cake? But I didn’t do that. The only person I talked to about baking was… “Adrien?” the last part of her thoughts apparently couldn’t be kept from slipping past her lips.

Chat looked startled. Very much like a frightened cat. “How did you… how did you figure it out?”

“Figure what out?”

Chat pursed his lips. “HA, nothing! You didn’t figure anything out- I mean, it’s not that you aren’t smart it’s that you didn’t figure out the thing that I thought you figured out!” his nervous laugh gave him away.

As realization struck her, Ladybug reacted the only way she could possibly think to react.

She screamed.

“Ladybug! My lady, are you okay?! Are you hurt, what’s happening!” his voice gave away his worry as he took his wrists into his hands.

“You’re Adrien Agreste!” she managed to hiss.

“A-Adrien Agreste? Wh-who’s Adrien I don’t know an Adrien do you know an Adrien?” his eyes were wide.

“You asked Marinette for baking tips except you didn’t ask as Chat Noir! You asked as Adrien! And I only know that because I’m Mari-” she slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Chat- no, Adrien’s eyes were tender, but shocked. “M-Marinette?”


Getting Ladybug- no, Marinette- to calm down was a task that shouldn’t have been as hard as it was. Chat couldn’t understand why it freaked her out that much. He was ecstatic. One of his first friends was his lady! How much more perfect could it get?

They were currently seated on a roof, eating cake with their fingertips because Chat was an idiot who forgot plates and spoons in his excitement.

Really, it was downright unfair that Ladybug could make licking frosting from her fingertips so… enjoyable. “Chat?”

“Err, yes, my Lady?” he could feel his face heating up.

“I’m sorry I forgot… our amiversaire.” she giggled at the word. “I was kinda getting ready for a different amiversaire. One that’s… tomorrow actually.” her blue eyes went wide. “NOT THAT I DIDN’T MAKE YOU A GIFT I HONESTLY HAD IT IN MIND I JUST FORGOT BECAUSE- because myamiversaire with Adrien is tomorrow.” his lady’s voice was quiet. The shade of red on her cheeks very quickly became his favorite color.

Chat grinned. “Does this mean I get two presents?”

“Does this mean I get two cakes?” she shot back.

“Absolutely. But I don’t know if you’d want this mess of a cake again.” he blushed.

Ladybug’s lips against his cheek sent his heart stampeding around in his chest. “I’ll help you make another one. I do live above a bakery, after all.”

“Falling in love with you was the best thing that ever happened to me, my Lady. All those delicious macarons I’ll get now…” he let out a dreamy sigh, stomach rumbling at the thought.

She giggled. “You’re a dork. I can’t believe I ever thought Adrien Agreste was cool.”

“Glad you realized that before it was too late.”


Marinette was late again.

But she had a reason! She had to make sure Adrien’s two gifts were absolutely perfect!

“Your teacher won’t understand that, Marinette,” Tikki giggled from Marinette’s bag.

“It’s not the first ti-” her words stopped abruptly as she crashed into a mass of soft fabric over hard muscle.

“Better watch where you’re going, Bugaboo,” Adrien’s happy laughter brought red to her cheeks.

“Adrien!” she gasped, stepping away from his steadying hands. Marinette shoved the two boxes into his hands. “B-Bon amiversaire.”

His green eyes danced with happiness that she had only seen on the rooftops of Paris. “Bon amiversaire, my Lady.” he pressed the small cake they had made together in her parents’ bakery into her hands.

As his arms came around her, her heart jumped to her throat. “Bon amiversaire, mon chaton.”

“Since when do people get two presents for friendship anniversaries? I only got one.” Alya humphed.

Marinette pulled her face from the depths of Adrien’s shirt to stick her tongue out at Alya.

“Wow, have fun with your new best friend, then, Mari.” Alya rolled her eyes playfully.

“You know I love you, Alya.”



Mr.J asking you to be his one and only.

getting all dolled up was your favorite part of every Saturday night. You absolutely loved layering on the makeup to look nice on date night with your very own murderous clown, but for some reason you decided to keep it natural.

a little bit of mascara here, a little hint of eyeliner and some clear gloss did the trick for Mr.J, it always did. He didn’t understand why you caked your face full of dark eyeshadows and lipsticks. He knew you weren’t okay with your flaws, so most of the time he just brushed it off.

- beep beep beep -

You jumped at the sound of a brand new text message. Having a deep feeling you knew it Mr.J, you quickly grabbed it and read the message.

New message received at 10:43 - im coming baby girl. be ready.

“aha! Right again!” You softly giggled to yourself as you picked up your handbag, and rushed out of the door.

this night seemed very off. Your so called Puddin’ was on edge the whole time, stuttering, shaking slightly, and making small talk. You have never seen him like this before, so you decided to ask what was going on.

“Pumpkin? your acting very strange. May I ask whats up?” You whispered, taking a small sip of your red wine, not because you were thirsty but because you were nervous. You always seem to be drinking something when your anxiety acted up.

“huh?” He jumped after starring into space for awhile. Raising his hand, he slid his fingers through his slicked back hair as he attempted to fake a smile. Then, suddenly, he growled. His smile vanished, and he glared at you in a very sinister way. Now this was the Joker you were use to.

“Listen, (Y/N)..” He dragged your name as he let a smirk tug at his red lips. “My queen, my angel,” He began to raise his voice. “Walk the streets of Gotham with me.. forever. Be my princess of crime? We can make this city our playground.” He made a circle with his finger.

“Of course hun! I thought I already was thou-”

“No!” He interrupted, making you jump, which made him laugh. He took out a box and opened it up to reveal a big purple diamond.

“Be… My…,” he looked up at you, on his knee, and began to drag out his words, again. “Wiiiiiifffeeeee….?”

You know what? The Final Problem was too good for a spoof and too bad for a normal, serious episode.  I honestly think the creators/actors/crew thought it would be obvious the episode is a spoof of horror films. I don’t think they realized until now just how serious everyone would take it.  As well the viewers should – after all, this episode was TOO GOOD for a spoof.  Ben, Martin, Andrew, Sian, and Mark are excellent actors.  It didn’t matter that Andrew danced to Queen while exiting his helicopter on Alcatraz.  It didn’t matter that Mark had an umbrella that was also a sword, that was also a gun.  It didn’t matter that Martin couldn’t recognize bones even though his character is a doctor.  It didn’t matter that Sian hid behind nothing and Ben thought there was actual glass in her cell. These actors are so good we didn’t realize the spoof.  This is like Cabin in the Woods, guys, but with classically-trained actors.  I honestly, honestly think these people believed they were making an audacious spoof of their own show by ignoring detective work and deductions for Hannibal Lector, It, The Ring, and The Shining, only they pulled off “The Producers” and made an episode people took seriously, and some even liked. Now the backlash is awful – again, as it should be.  If you’re going to make a spoof as a joke, fine, do it, but make sure it’s obvious enough to viewers.  If you’re going to make a serious episode like usual, please do it, we know you know how to do that. 

You don’t have to agree that we’re getting another episode, but come on…. don’t you see the intended spoof?

Mycroft’s movie is hacked by home footage, Mycroft is a fat kid eating cake, the paintings bleed, clowns jump out, there’s an umbrella-sword-gun, there’s a man dressed as a little girl lurking in the shadows, Sherlock calls Mycroft “Bro”, a drone grenade obliterates 221b, Sherlock and John explode out the windows unharmed, they commandeer a fishing boat, Mycroft steals a fisherman outfit/nose/teeth/beard, Sherlock can’t recognize glass windows, Sherlock has no memory of a sister or best friend, Sherlock ignores John’s “Vatican Cameos”, Eurus acts out Saw, The Three Garridebs moment (the most important moment in ACD canon, arguably) is glossed over, Mycroft vomits seeing death, Sherlock gets tranquilized by a dart shot from the wall and transported to room made of cardboard suddenly outside their childhood home, Sherlock threatens to kill himself and John doesn’t care, John gets chained in a well and Sherlock doesn’t care, John’s chains disappear suddenly when a rope gets thrown to him, Dead Mary keeps sending DVDs, Sherlock learns how to love because of a psychopathic killer sister he just found out about, and they end the show saying “Who you are doesn’t matter” which is the most out-of-character idea this show has ever produced. 

The only reason The Final Problem was enjoyable was because of the acting. These guys are GOOD. And that’s the issue.  The fandom is divided on its legitimacy. They did not think this was going to happen at all. 

OTP 30 Day Challenge

Day Nine: Hanging Out With Friends

This one has a special meaning to me. Back when I was in band, this was my favorite thing to do.

After the football game was over and everyone had been dismissed, we would usually split up into our groups of friends, jump into the nearest car, and head for either Waffle House or IHOP. It was close to 11 o'clock most nights when we invaded. Band members were in t-shirts and shorts, hair sticking up every which way. Guard girls were in half a costume, caked on makeup starting to melt. Everyone was a mess. No one judged you if you still had glitter on your face or mascara on your cheek. No one cared that you were sweaty and trying to mask the stench in perfume or cologne. For someone who constantly worries about where I am, what I’m wearing, how I’m moving, if I look dumb/stupid/embarrassing, the comfort I felt on these nights was incredibly refreshing.

Yeah, we’d get strange looks from a few patrons, but that was the best part; those looks were for everyone. The people that mattered shrugged it off without a problem. And after a while, so could I. 

I miss those nights where we talked about everything and nothing all at once. Those were the best nights of my life.

i would love to read an outsiders fan fiction where...

-the girl doesn’t love sunsets
-the girl doesn’t like to read books
-the girl is not a hopeless romantic
-the girl has good, decent parents
-she’s neither a soc or a greaser but middle class (or have we forgotten that exists?)
-she doesn’t have a freakin’ switchblade
-she doesn’t need saving from the gang
-cake is not the only food
-cars, cake, Evie and Sodapop are not all that matters to Steve
-Mickey Mouse, booze, and his switchblade aren’t the only things Two-Bit likes
-Johnny doesn’t live in the lot
-girls and cars aren’t the most important thing in life to Sodapop
-Darry is not featured as an uptight jerk whose only purpose in life is to scare Ponyboy and make him do his homework
-Johnny is not a baby; he doesn’t have to stutter out every friggin’ word
-not all Dallas does is steal, drink, jump, and hump then dump
-Darry doesn’t just let anybody inside their house
-everybody doesn’t say ‘tuff’ because that’s not the only word greasers know
-mustangs and corvettes aren’t the only form of vehicles; what about a vw buggy or something?
-cherry isn’t the enemy
-everybody doesn’t smoke
-greasers don’t always make poor decisions and blame it on being a greaser

And most of all, I’d be intrigued to read a fanfic where the characterization of the main character isn’t based upon who the fan fiction is about - who says Pony’s girl has to always love sunsets and read the book before watching the movie?

What would it be like for a Pony fan fiction to have the girl not like the same things he likes?

What if the girl would rather go to a fancy restaurant than a picnic while the sun sets and would rather watch the movie than read the book?

remember the phrase ‘opposites attract’ or is that not even a thing anymore