#did i write??? fan fiction??????

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

What animorphs fics would you recommend by yourself or others, for people who haven't read any of them yet?

Anything by Poetry/@featherquillpen! I've read a bunch of their crossovers and enjoyed every one. They're masterful at capturing the goofy-yet-horrifying tone of Animorphs, and with unexpected crossovers. Though I haven't gotten around to reading Daemorphing, I've head good things and can recommend by proxy. That's my single biggest author rec. Fic recs:

Elfangor's Folly by Kim Hoppy is an excellent longfic series retelling. The premise is exactly what the name suggests — Elfangor survives the first book and stays on Earth. My favorite part of this one is the author's ability to capture the subtly-unreliable narration of Animorphs with Elfangor's voice.

Take Me Out by neinlives is a delightful piece about the Animorphs grown up and going to college, half crack half sweetness.

The Wheel by L. Emmist is the reason my date once asked me "Why do you have a picture of a yeerk in a condom on your window?" and that's all you need to know about it.

Animorphs: Facebook News Feed Edition by Ember Nickel is exactly what the title suggests; never have I laughed so hard about Tom's death.

Speaking of which, The Tocsin by tptigger is a brilliant speculative story about Tom becoming reluctant host to a member of the Yeerk Peace Movement, and thus an even more reluctant Auxiliary Animorph.

I know I'm forgetting a bunch — I'm terrible at remembering to bookmark — so other people please weigh in with recs!

[lesbiansruledawurld]

thinking about gymratgf!abby and how you two are on opposite sides of the gym you both visit frequently together, you being too intimidated to go in the weight lifting section so you decline every time she challenges you to a bench press. she finds out of course but its whatever because she promises you that you wont need to lift a finger...

by spotting her!

on a mini tour of this unfamiliar section you watch as she show's you the different types of weights and weight machines and what they're used for. she puts the weights on the bar as you read the label '50' on all four of them. how she is able to flip and throw you around like it's nothing makes sense now.

"okay, all you gotta do is hold your hands over the bar and make sure it doesn't kill me..alright"

you shake your head in understanding as you hold your hands over the bar and keep focus on wherever abby's go. you literally are not that focused though due to the determined yet casual look on her face. the sweat beads from previous workouts coming back as abby pumped the bar up and down. huffs and groans came from her mouth as she pushed through the lifts. her face now going into complete focus. you can't help that your girlfriend is literally built by aphrodite herself and don't even start on her body, muscles she's been working on since sophomore year as she constantly to brag to you from time to time.

"hello?!"

you didn't realize how long you were spacing out until abby started to complain. you help her lift the bar over her head and onto the rest.

"im sorry i wasn't paying attention i-"

"was looking at me."

cutting you off abby chuckled and sat up, you walked around now waiting for her to follow suit. taking big gulps from her water bottle the excess dripping down her chin to her neck. she wipes her mouth and again catches you in a haze.

"two times in a row, geez you want my number or something"

you playfully push her and roll your eyes walking away she gets a chance to get a good stare in too, watching you walk away from her in the new workout shorts you decided to wear this go round. whistling to herself she catches up to you wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning into your ear to whisper:

"i think i got a way better workout at home that'll get you sweating bullets gorgeous"

ogie bye :p

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

[rewrittenwrongs]

It’s the first of October in my timezone, which means it’s time to post my first Whumptober fill! I chose the prompt Panic Attack.

Heavily inspired by the lovely @brucewaynehater101’s Wingless Wing AU

Read on Ao3 (registered users only) | Whumptober masterpost | part 1 | part 2 coming soon

TW: past wing removal, mentions of anti-hybrid sentiments, mentions of trafficking/selling body parts, panic attack, accidental self harm (biting lip until it bleeds to ground himself), and a very very non detailed instance of vomiting

Dragons were the rarest hybrids out there.

They were some of the most well known, too. Everyone’s heard of dragon hybrids. They’re like the role models of the hybrid world, the knights and princesses children look up to, or the monsters under your bed if you’re not a hybrid. Usually, they’re treated much the same as true dragons: fictional. Mythical. Imaginary.

Now, if you were especially interested in them, or studied genetics or hybrid physiology, you’d know they were real. You’d know they often had huge wingspans comparable to the largest of seabird hybrids, and airborne agility almost on par with hummingbirds. You’d know they were rumoured to command the wind itself when they flew. You’d know their scales were tough and beautiful and practically immune to fire. You’d know lead was one of the only things capable of burning them while they lived. You’d know full blooded dragon hybrids could have long, magnificent tails and dramatic horns, claws instead of fingers or toes, slitted pupils that could see in the dark and scales tougher than wood.

You’d also know that, while they did exist once, they were hunted for their wings and scales and horns. They haven’t been officially pronounced extinct but neither has any other long-gone hybrid species. Anyone with passing knowledge of them knew they weren’t around anymore, outside the odd museum exhibit or old photo. Any rumour of still living dragon hybrids today was just that: a rumour. Though, the general populace—just the hybrids, really—loved to spread stories of them going into hiding. Using magic to cloak themselves until the day they could walk safely among humans.

Jason knows a lot about dragon hybrids. Much more than your average hybrid, and probably more than even a hybrid physiologist. He had a hyperfixation on them for a time, even before that pair of dragon wings started being passed around Gotham’s underworld.

He knows all the myths and folklore about dragon hybrids being born with an affinity for magic, about them using their skills to hide themselves from poachers and traffickers, building enchanted necklaces or broaches that disguised them as regular humans. He’s heard the legends of them being born of fire itself, being immune to temperatures that would render metal liquid, even being able to summon or control it. About burning their dead ones to return them to the ashes and embers they were once created from, as heat only blackened their scales after death. He’s heard the tales of dragons being kidnapped as children for their wings, because of a very special property of theirs: even after their wings were cut off they stayed magically connected to the hybrid, and grew along with them. It was much easier to kidnap and mutilate children than it was adults, and then they could use the hybrids as slaves, since they had to stay alive anyway for the wings to grow.

A lot of the myths—folklore, children’s tales, nursery rhymes—were about a dragon losing their wings and getting them back. A common theme among legends was the tie between wings and hybrid: a tie that, if the wings weren’t skinned or carved away for trophies, allowed the hybrid to reconnect them.

Jason tried not to get his hopes up, but he had to admit, once he finally tracked down those wings the other crime lords kept playing hot potato with… it would be nice if he could track down their owner and return them. Even if all there was to be done was bury or burn the things and give the hybrid a proper funeral.

Now, with the childhood hyperfixation and the elusive pair of trafficked wings that have been evading him for as long as he’s been Red Hood, he has a lot of respect for dragon hybrids. Combine that with all the hybrid trafficking rings he’s taken down, both as Red Hood and as Robin, you can see why he’s pissed about Tim’s new gliders.

Ever since Damian became Robin, since Tim swapped suits and changed title, he’d altered his glider to look like dragon wings. Dragon. Wings.

Now, it’s been almost five months since Tim came back and handed over all the info about Bruce’s whereabouts and proved he was alive, about four since they actually got Bruce back. There’s still some tension between everyone, but things have settled down a lot. But. Quite a bit of the tension could be blamed on those damn. Gliders.

Jason was actually glad when he saw them get set on fire a few nights ago; huge holes burning into the material and making Tim abandon it before the engine caught fire too. He tried a little to convince Tim to swap back to a design more feather-like but he was adamant. Jason could understand wanting to imitate the others, it must be tough being one of the only non-hybrids in the family, but WHY did he have to imitate dragon hybrids of all things? Because they’re cool? It’s insensitive and in bad taste!

That said, Jason had been biting his tongue about the issue. But tonight, when he swung by the cave, he came across Tim in the workshop, tinkering around and probably trying to improve his newest glider model. It’s the first time Jason’s seen the prototype. He can’t keep quiet anymore.

“You’re seriously sticking with dragon wings?”

Tim didn’t look up, didn’t turn to face him. “Yes. I’ve told you, I’m not changing my mind.”

Right. Jason’s definition of ‘biting his tongue’ was a little different than most’s. “You do know they’re real hybrids, right?”

“Yes, you’ve infodumped to me about them before.” He kept serenely fitting the scale-patterned material in place, connecting panels and hiding wire mesh and metal supports. “It’s no more cultural appropriation than my previous gliders were.”

Jason bristled. Tim has had some form of glider since he first debuted as Robin, and they were all styled after bird wings, designed to look like feathers. Like the Robins before him. Not the most feared, segregated, hunted, and literally extinct hybrid species in existence!

Jason had to take several deep breaths to stop himself from shooting the things then and there. Tim had already put together most of the emergency engine, the jetpack or ‘batpack’ as it was jokingly called: shooting it would just cause a huge explosion and an even huger mess. Not to mention Tim was in the way, he didn’t want to resort to physical injury just yet. “Clearly you weren’t listening when I told you about how often they were trafficked and poached for their wings.”

Tim huffed, still refusing to even turn his head. “I heard you. I just don’t see a problem with this.”

“So you don’t have a problem with the severed pair of dragon wing currently being traded through Gotham’s underworld?”

Tim froze.

There’s the reaction he’s been looking for. A bit of Jason’s vindictive glee seeped into his voice. “You didn’t know? There have been rumours about them since I was putting heads in duffel bags. Even the Joker knows about them. The hybrid is almost certainly dead by now. And still, their wings are being toted from warehouse to warehouse, crate to crate, one hand to someone else’s. It’s only a matter of time before someone keeps them for good and turns them into a pair of cloaks and an interesting taxidermy.”

“What do they look like?”

Jason blinked. Then his rage swelled so fiercely he could barely see or breathe. He wanted to know what they looked like!? WHY!? So he could take notes? Make his glider more realistic? WHAT THE FUCK.

Jason very nearly exploded about it, but then he caught sight of something that made him pause for a split second: Tim’s hands, curled into fists against his work, shaking slightly. Then as he paused he caught sight of something else: the slope of his shoulders, hunched, defensive, quivering. He was leaning forward like his knees would collapse any second.

Jason hesitated. Well, maybe... maybe if he answered he would learn why Tim reacted like that, or at least learn enough to infer. If it was so he could make his glider more realistic he could just shoot him.

He’s only seen them once, for a few seconds, but they were beautiful—and heartbreaking—enough he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget them. “They’re red. Crimson. Big, but built like they’re kind of small. Curved, streamline, built for speed and agility. They’re almost iridescent, the right lighting makes them shine gold.”

Tim shuddered, violently, then collapsed, vomiting onto the stone floor.

“Woah—Tim—“ Jason darted forward, dropping into a kneel beside Tim with a flair of his wings. He reached for his shoulders automatically but Tim jerked away like he’d stabbed him, letting out a choked exclamation. Jason pulled back and let his wings settle over him instead, shielding but not touching. “Tim?”

He hesitated as Tim scrambled to his feet, shoulders hunched and arms jerky like his back was on fire. His breathing was loud and uneven and there was a tear on his cheek. His eyes were red and wild, darting around like he was searching desperately for an escape, like he didn’t know where he was. Jason got back up on his knees in preparation for following. He kept a wing hovering over Tim’s back. “Tim? What—“

Tim stumbled into an uneven run, arms more jerking than swinging, footfalls uneven like he was accounting for weight that wasn’t there. Jason hoped he was putting things together wrong.

Jason followed a few steps behind as Tim ran for the exit, and caught him when he stumbled and collapsed in the doorway. He was muttering over and over, “Please don’t please stop please stop stop stop,” between horrible, gut deep sobs. He fought against Jason for a moment but stopped quickly, leaning as far away as he could get, but not putting up a physical fight. He was hyperventilating.

Jason kept his hold secure, thinking back to the last—and until now, only—time he’d seen Tim having a panic attack: the sight of his hands in his hair and on his shoulders and blood running through his fingers and down his chin. Right now his arms were mostly pinned at his sides, hands struggling to curl around Jason’s arms, still protected by his jacket and armour. Jason kept his grip away from his shoulders and upper back in case his hunch was right. He curled one wing around Tim’s front, gently, just enough to brush against his face and legs. “Hey, hey hey, it’s okay, no one’s hurting you.”

Tim whined and tossed his head, fingers scrabbling against Jason’s forearms. Tears dripped from his chin. Blood was beading on his lip.

Jason bit off a swear. He’d forgotten he was still wearing his mask, the voice modulator always bothered Tim when he was already on edge. He adjusted his grip so he had one arm around Tim’s waist, still pinning an arm, and one wing caving him in, and used his spare hand to remove his metal mask.

Tim’s struggle renewed when he sensed apparent weakness, shoving and kicking, but he was off balance and uncoordinated and all he achieved was making Jason’s wing curl tighter around him. The sensation seemed to throw him off. Confusion bled into the features that weren’t twisted with pain and fear.

“Tim, can you try to breathe for me?” Jason said. He placed his mask on the ground and used his other wing to slide it away quietly.

Tim sobbed, chest heaving, shoulders quivering. “Stop. It hurts.”

Jason’s heart ached. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Tim’s entire frame jerked with the force of his next sob. Tears splashed to the ground like little shards of shattering glass. They were joined by a droplet of blood.

Jason made a cooing noise low in his throat, humming in a way that never came quite as naturally as it did before his death. He tried to imitate Dick’s comforting calls. Tim pressed his face into the feathers of Jason’s wing, hands like iron bands around his arm.

Jason repeated the noise, tentatively reaching out and stroking a hand through his hair. It got longer while he was searching for Bruce, and he hasn’t cut it yet.

Tim stayed tense as a taut wire, but didn’t curl into or away from the feeling. Jason couldn’t tell if his breathing was getting faster or slower. “It hurts,” he sobbed, “it hurts it hurts it hurts make it stop, please make it stop.”

Jason scrambled for what to do. He kept stroking through Tim’s hair. Maybe—his mother used to…

Jason cleared his throat and quietly began to sing.

His voice has never been quite as smooth and full as it was before his death. It’s not rough or unpleasant, necessarily, but he became unnervingly aware of the difference as he began singing the same song Catherine sang when he was too scared to sleep. There was a faint shakiness, a fragility that caused pain if he tried to yell, not to mention he couldn’t hit half the notes. He kept it quiet, low, a poor rendition of a dead woman’s lullaby.

Tim kept muttering, kept begging and sobbing, but the faintest hints of awareness were gradually starting to fill his eyes.

His arms squeezed Jason’s forearm around his middle.

His feet shifted against the ground like he was searching for purchase.

He pressed his head, lightly, into Jason’s feathers with a whine.

A shudder wracked through him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” His voice was slurred and uneven.

Finally, he stopped speaking to a threat that wasn’t there.

With another violent shiver, he began looking around a little. Staring at the wrist of Jason’s wing. At the arm pinning him in place, then at the body he was half slumped onto.

Tim whined loudly, longingly, so eerily similar to calls for safety-protection-flock that it made Jason’s hindbrain go crazy. Tim began shifting against his brother’s hold, in a different way than before. Jason kept an arm and wing around him but let him move, a little wary. Tim twisted around until he and Jason were front to front, at which point he collapsed onto him with a low mournful sound, head beneath his chin and arms curling loosely around him.

Jason wrapped both arms tighter around him, keeping them on his lower back, and shifted them both until Jason was lying on his back with Tim half on top of him, tented beneath his wings. He kept singing the entire time, now on his third rendition of the lullaby. Tim had stopped mumbling. He hadn’t stopped shaking or crying. His breaths were better but still shaky and erratic.

Jason continued carding through his hair. He seemed to like that. And the singing, Jason kept that up too, even though his throat was beginning to tickle.

After a few minutes he noticed the tears had stopped and his breath had evened out. Tim was asleep. Jason didn’t blame him, panic attacks were exhausting. He carried him through the elevator and up the stairs to his room, set Tim in his bed and himself in a beanbag, despite all his instincts screaming about flock and physical contact and protection and perceived abandonment. He distracted himself with Tim’s copy of The Little Prince. In the original French, nice.

Tim awoke seventy minutes later. Not that Jason was counting. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, sporting an impressive bedhead. He licked his lips. His eyes landed on Jason and shifted rapidly from confusion to understanding to fear. He curled the blanket into his fist.

“You have some explaining to do.”

Tim huffed as if he thought this really was all blown out of proportion. As if. “Not here. My Nest.”

Ah, the Nest, Tim’s seperate base of operations and regular hang-out spot for Young Justice, not to be confused with the nest, an elevated platform of ropes and mattresses and blankets inside the Batcave. Not confusing at all.

Jason actually felt proud for a split second upon realising he was welcome in Tim’s safe space, an honour none of the other bats held, before remembering no, actually, this wasn’t trust this was fear. Fear caused by him, however accidental.

“Let’s go, then.”

[manchesterau]

nord - a fan fiction by dan howell

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Sorry if this seems confrontational, but for the life of me I can’t get into your “Chloe has no growth” point when the show itself retracts growth from everyone and is inconsistent with everyone. You saying “The show just lays down basic character traits in Chloe” doesn’t make sense when her basic character traits are supposed to be her being selfish and spoiled.

S2 built off of that and despite what you say, had Chloe doing things that in S1 she wouldn’t have done. She apologized multiple times to the people she wronged, she willingly put herself in harm’s way to help the people she cares about and she was openly vulnerable to Ladybug in “Malidiktaor”. Something S1 Chloe wouldn’t have done. If there’s a distinct difference between a Chloe back in S1 and a Chloe in S2, then growth HAS taken place. But it doesn’t stay because of the formula (and the writers just don’t want her to keep that growth)

So what I’m asking is…what do you mean “Chloe doesn’t have growth”?

I can understand the “No arc” argument because an unfinished arc feels like there’s no arc at all (even though they are fundamentally not the same)

I wouldn't say that the show retracts growth from everyone. It's more that no one is ever supposed to grow. Every episode resets the cast. That's just how pure formula shows work and Miraculous is being sold as a pure formula show. The characters are meant to be static (one of the writers literally compared Miraculous to Dora the Explorer).

That static nature is why pure formula shows normally avoid giving their good-guy characters major flaws. It's the wrong medium for that type of thing specifically because the characters cannot change in meaningful ways throughout the show. They can learn little lessons that don't really change them and maybe have big change between seasons via a special or movie, but that's about it. Thus things like the season four conflict working so poorly. It's just a terrible choice for a formula show! The conflict is literally not allowed to develop properly because of the chosen format.

But sure, let's talk about Chloe and why I will die on the hill that she never demonstrated meaningful improvement even with the issue of the inconstant writing. In fact, seasons-one-to-three Chloe is one of the most consistent characters in the show. For this discussion to work, we need to start off by discussing character development and the two main forms it can take: character establishment and character growth.

Character Establishment

When the audience meets a character, they know nothing about said character. It's up to the writer to guide the introduction process. To choose when to reveal already existing elements of the character's personality, skills, and backstory. This is called character establishment. It is the writing telling you who the character is on a baseline level. Those reveals don't need to happen at the start of the story, though. They can be - and often are - held back for when the time is right.

When these reveals are delayed, it's important to remember that these elements were always part of the character. The reveal isn't changing who the character actually is. It's just changing how the audience views the character.

For example, we spend a good chunk of season one uncertain why Gabriel is doing what he does. Then, in Origins, we learn that it's all for Emilie. This is new information that adds depth to Gabriel's character, but it doesn't change him in any way. This is who he always was. We just know him better now and can recontextualize past events with our new understanding of his motivation.

Character Growth

Character growth is when writers take a character's personality or world view or even just their skills from point A to point B, allowing the audience to watch the character change and become a new better - or lesser - version of themself. This is usually part of a larger character arc where all the moments of growth add up, but it can take the form of small moments of growth that don't fit into a bigger picture, too. I'd probably still call that an arc, but we'll use the word "growth" a lot in this post, so let's just call it growth to be consistent.

Miraculous doesn't really have either arcs or growth because - once again - formula shows don't allow characters to meaningfully change, so I'm going to have to make up an example here. I'll use one that illustrates how character establishment and character growth can and do intertwine as that's an important thing to acknowledge to help guide this discussion.

Let's say that we have a character who lost their family at a young age. We'll call this character Mary. Mary's loss guides her character throughout the entire story, but the other characters and the audience are never told that this is what's going on. We just know that Mary acts in seemingly illogical ways at times and that she trusts no one.

Throughout the story, Mary learns to trust her costars, leading to a big, dramatic scene where she finally tells them - and the audience - about her past. This big dramatic scene is both the culmination of a character arc and a piece of baseline character establishment that allows us to understand Mary's character better no matter what part of the story we're reading.

Because these combo growth and establishment moments are so common in stories, it can feel like character growth when we learn new things about a character in a dramatic moment, but that's not always what's happening. Sometimes dramatic moments are just there to reveal what was always there by forcing a character to act differently than they usually do through the power of extenuating circumstances. These extenuating-circumstances moments are not character growth because, once the moment is over, the character resets to their normal self. The moment wasn't there to let them grow. It was there for the sake of the plot.

This is actually a really important thing that writers need to know how to do. Figuring out what circumstances will make a character say or do a thing they generally wouldn't say or do is part of how stories work. I have started stories with characters acting wildly "out of character" because I put them in the a situation where the behavior suddenly was in character!

Oh, you don't want to talk to this total stranger because you're an introvert with social anxiety who has yet to learn how to love yourself and open up to others? That's nice. Your leg is broken now and you're stuck in the middle of nowhere. What you gonna do sucker? Lie there in the dirt or talk to the nice lady who wants to help you? Your choice! (Spoiler: he talked to the nice lady. He even let her physically support him when he'd usually never let a stranger touch him!)

As soon as that scene was over, the character reverted because it wasn't growth. He didn't become a more open person. He just did something he normally wouldn't do because the situation demanded it. It was extenuating circumstances so that the freaking plot could start.

This is what happened with Chloe in season two. Everything that people call growth is really just extenuating circumstances that reset by the end of the episode or even by the end of the scene.

Let's Talk About Chloe

Chloe does not have a character arc, aborted or otherwise. She is never taken on a journey where we watch her change. All we get is delayed character establishment via extenuating circumstances, but it's given in ways that make some people feel like she was being given an arc. Let's talk about why that is.

Season one Chloe is a one dimensional mean girl. She has almost no depth. She's just here to be petty and cause akumas. She is not a fully realized character.

Season two takes those traits and keeps them, but also gives Chloe a lot more depth to round her out and make her feel like a real character. She's just as petty and mean as she always was, but we're finally allowed to see her in some moments that make her feel like a well of potential to become something more, which the writers basically had to do if they wanted to let her be a hero. The audience needed to feel like Chloe could be good in the right situation.

The feelings evoked by her newly discovered depth are why people go "oh, she had a character arc! My feelings about her changed in a big way!" But she didn't have an arc. You just got to know her better by seeing her in moments where she was forced to be vulnerable. That's not growth. Growth is meaningful, lasting change, not situational change. Everyone changes based on the situation! It's why the "True Selves" stuff is such nonsense. It implies that there's one set way that we're supposed to act in order to be authentic and anything else is some kind of lie which just isn't how the world works.

Let's look at some examples to drive home what I mean.

Season one established that Chloe idolized Ladybug. It's why we get things like this moment from Evil Illustrator:

Ladybug: Fine! You stay! Later! Cat Noir: What do you mean later? Ladybug: I mean, you're the one who wants to protect her, so you don't need me. So, later! (swings away) Chloé:(looks over balcony) Ahhh! Ladybug! Text me! OK!

And this confession from Antibug:

Ladybug: [Chloe] pretended she was me?! How often does that happen? Armand: She idolizes you.

So Chloe adores Ladybug and wants to impress her/be her best friend. Cool. Got it. That never goes anywhere in season one because season one doesn't see Chloe and Ladybug interact much. The most we get is Ladybug saving Chloe from akumas, which doesn't allow for deep conversations. I don't think that they're ever alone in a moment where they can actually talk.

That changes in season two. In season two, they get to interact a lot and it's often in moments where there's a big threat and no one else is around, letting us see a new side to Chloe. But that's not Chloe changing. It's just the writers revealing that Chloe has more to her than the mean girl stuff because of course she does! Pure mean girls don't exist. Everyone has depth. We simply never saw that depth before because Chloe was never put in a situation where she needed to be open. We can't say that season one Chloe wouldn't confess things to Ladybug or chose to sacrifice herself to let Ladybug win because she never had the chance to do those things!

In fact, I'd go so far as to argue that season one Chloe probably would have done the same things as season two Chloe because season two Chloe doesn't really contradict season one Chloe. Antibug showed us that Chloe was pretty desperate to be loved and welcomed the way that Ladybug is loved and welcomed:

Chloé: Jagged Stone! Jagged: (thinking she's the actual Ladybug) Ladybug! What are you doing here? Chloé: Um… when I find out you were here, I knew you'd wanna see me! I had to come say hello. (Sabrina waves at Jagged)

and Chloe has always been a stubborn girl who stands up for what she wants even if what she wants is something bad. Antibug also showed us that Chloe can be genuinely nice to the people she cares about. Her and Sabrina's relationship is shown to be complex with them often having a lot of fun together.

Similarly, Origins sees Chloe showing her father genuine affection after she's saved from Stoneheart:

[Image description: Chloe and Andre hugging and looking very happy to be together]

Origins is the baseline episode that tells us who the characters are on day one, so I never once doubted that Chloe loved Andre, but Andre didn't get akumatized because of Chloe's actions in season one. He didn't even get akumatized for something that Chloe had nothing to do with! His first akumatization is in season two, so it's not shocking that we don't get a Malidiktaor type scene until Malidiktaor.

Chloe was vulnerable with her personal hero when her beloved parent was in danger, but not before? Shocking! Who would have guessed?

Me. I would have guessed. I didn't even realize that people were reading it as some sort of character growth because it clearly wasn't. Malidiktaor didn't feel like something new for Chloe's character. It just felt like the writers were leaning into things that we'd always known about Chloe and using them to better establish her character as someone who genuinely cares about select people. She just doesn't show most of the time.

The same thing goes for Chloe's sacrifice and apology in Zombizou. Chloe only sacrifices herself when there's no one left but her and Ladybug. When the choice is to let the terrorist win or take the hit and let you personal hero save the day. Brave? Sure, but also not growth. Chloe is team Ladybug for all of seasons one, two, and three! She wants Ladybug to like her! Plus even a petty brat can have moments of goodness where they pick a hero over a literal terrorist.

This honestly would have been a damming moment if Chloe didn't sacrifice herself. She functionally had no other choice here. The entire episode builds itself to the self-sacrifice moment so that Chloe is forced to make that choice even though she's been her petty bratty self throughout the whole attack. It's genuinely solid writing.

Then, in the heightened emotions directly after the Zombizou win, we get this:

Miss Bustier: But I hurt a lot of people... Chloé: No... I did... I forgot your birthday, once again. And when I saw everyone had prepared a gift for you, I totally lost it. Because I, too, would've liked to offer you something. I'm sorry, Miss Bustier. Miss Bustier: Thank you, Chloé. Those words are the best possible gift you could ever give me. (hugs Chloé) (Chloé hugs her back, forgetting herself for a moment.) Chloé: Huh?... Uh, yeah. Okay then, we're all good.

A brief moment of vulnerability that quickly ends and does not stick around because Chloe's change was situational, not true growth. The next scene of that episode starts with Chloe being her usual self:

Chloé: Me? You want me to apologize to the entire class? Ridiculous! They should be thanking me for saving everybody.

And ends with the reveal of Chloe's gift to Miss Bustier, which was given in private via a note.

Once again, nothing new for Chloe's character. She acts as she always has, being mean to everyone while having moments of vulnerability when things get tense. Remember that hug between her and her father that we talked about earlier? Same concept. She had just almost died from an akuma attack and so she needed some emotional support, leading her to act more openly loving than she usually does when he's around. Once the moment is over, she reverts to the petty mean girl default.

Giving gifts to placate people is also something that we've seen before. A pretty similar thing happens at the end of Evil Illustrator, it's just played less sympathetic towards Chloe because the writers weren't giving her depth back then:

Sabrina: Too late. Chloé and I are doing the project together. Marinette: You mean, you're doing the project? Sabrina: Well, of course! After all she's been through... Marinette: Ughhh.... Nice new beret, by the way. Sabrina: I know, right! Chloé lent it to me. She really is my BFF! Chloé! Your geography homework's ready!

For any of this to be character growth, we need to see Chloe act differently over time. For her to be put in similar situations and get different outcomes, but we don't see that in part because Chloe didn't change and in part because season one didn't do much to develop Chloe's deeper side. We rarely see her alone or in moments of extreme vulnerability, but you need those moments to show her depth. That's why Despair Bear had Chloe crying alone after Adrien threatened to end her friendship and not before. Chloe is very reluctant to openly show depth. You have to force it out of her, which perfectly fits the character we met in season one.

Even her standing up to Hawkmoth and rejecting the akuma isn't character growth in my opinion. Chloe has always stood up to authority and demanded whatever she wants. She has wanted to be Ladybug's friend and be seen as a hero since season one, so it's not shocking that her extremely strong will would allow her to defy a terrorist. If there is anyone in this show who can stand up to a terrorist on shear "no!" power alone, it's little miss I-always-get-what-I-want. I could see a variation of this happening at any point in the show, just change Chloe's reason for defying Gabriel to match the situation. Rework these lines to be about a party that she wanted to go to and I'd still totally buy it:

Chloé: No, Hawk Moth! I am a superheroine! I am Queen Bee! Ladybug will come and get me when she needs me! I WILL NEVER JOIN YOU! (throws her photo onto the ground as the akuma exits it... and pants)

Chloe acted like a hero here because she wants all the perks of being a hero and can't believe that Ladybug would actually bench her. That's impossible! Ladybug wouldn't do that!

As soon as Chloe accepts that she won't be a hero again, Chloe stops acting heroic because acting heroic wasn't growth. It was her playing a part the same way she played a part in Despair Bear. She was doing what she needed to do to be Queen Bee again and not because it's the right thing to do. This would only be real growth if she rejected the akuma after accepting that she wouldn't be Queen Bee again, but that's not what happens. As soon as she accepts that she's out, she no longer has any reason to play nice. She never grew into a character who did what's right for the sake of doing the right thing. It's always been about getting what she wants or being seen how she wants to be seen. Until that changes, she hasn't changed.

So no, Chloe didn't have an aborted arc. They didn't start to redeem her and then change their minds. All they did was make Chloe one of the most complex characters in the show only to then not do anything with the character they wasted our time establishing, ignoring the complexity they gave her while also cranking her mean dial up to the point of absurdity where she's not even fun in her original role anymore.

I get why it feels like she had an aborted arc. The fact that the character establishment was delayed makes it feel like something shiny and new about Chloe. There's also the fact that the character establishment we get in season two is the kind of character establishment that you'd do if you were setting up for a redemption arc, but that doesn't change the fact that it was all establishment work. None of it was a true arc where we watched Chloe grow. We just saw her put in situations that revealed hidden depths.

Her showing depth is not her growing because when in the world does she show off this supposed growth? She only acts differently in the type of scenes that we've never seen her in before or around characters that we've never seen her truly interact with before. When she's around the established teen characters or in her usual scenes, then she acts the same way that she always has. We never see her be genuinely nice to Marinette or something like that. She's only nice to Ladybug and she's still rude to Chat Noir. That's not character growth! That's character establishment that can then be used to guide character growth!

Same thing goes for the stuff in Despair Bear. We learn that Adrien can push Chloe to be better, but he never does it again and she reverts as soon as he lets her off the hook, so it wasn't character growth! It was just Chloe establishing that she can play nice when she needs to. This means that she could grow if the story chose to take her down that path because we've established that she knows what being nice looks like. Fake it til you make it plot go, go, go! But the plot never went, went, went so meh?

Add in the fact that season one was a bit of a test season with lots of elements that got dropped and the fact that characterization in this show has always been wildly inconsistent from episode to episode and I'm really not seeing a strong argument for Chloe having an intentional arc that somehow got aborted. People just saw the potential for her to have one and argue that potential is the same as an aborted arc when it really, really isn't.

To give an analogy, Chloe's story is like walking into the kitchen and seeing grandma laying out the ingredients for her famous chocolate chip cookies. We get excited because, hey, cookies! Then we come back an hour later and there are no cookies. Nor is there some other sweet that uses the same ingredients. There's just ingredients, sitting unused in their original packaging, making us wonder what the heck grandma was up to. At the same time, she never really started making cookies. She just set out ingredients. They're still there, totally unused, waiting to be made into something, so we can't call them a failed cookie attempt. That implies a level of commitment that was never there. She didn't even say that she was making cookies! We just assumed she was because we, understandably, wanted cookies and wanted to believe that grandma had a purpose to her actions.

[fijiwater33]

Damianya week 2024

Day 6: War

CLACK CLACK the sound Anya’s pistol made as she ducked for cover and taking out the second to last opposing forces member with a paint round.

‘Crap it’s just me and her remaining!’ Anya heard from the thoughts of her masked opponent.

It was a joint exercise between WISE and Ostanian spec ops in an effort to keep up profiency against partisan insurgents in urban warfare. What had started as 5 vs 5 now dwindled to Anya and her opponents squad captain.

‘Even with reading his mind this last guy is annoying.’ Anya thought.

Now Anya was prideful as an agent of WISE, so even if this was an exercise she will not fail. Taking the stilleto blade from her side pocket she throws it with bullet like speed slightly to the side from where the opponent was.

THUNK!

Taking the bait he looks in shock over where the blade was now stuck in; giving Anya the opportunity to close in on his position. Now less than 10 feet away Anya rushes him, but the masked man was able to regain their composure quickly.

Now with a pistol facing each other they could say they were at a stalemate.

‘No way it can’t be! Anya?!’

Now that she was up close this man had the prettiest eyelashes she had seen in her life.

“Wait a second!” Anya suddenly said out loud as she swiftly ripped his mask off.

“Syon-Boy! What are you doing here?” She interrogated still pointing the pistol at him.

“Really you’re gonna call me that in front of everyone! And I could ask you the same question!” He spat back at her while lowering his gun.

“Hey what are you two doing?” An older woman yelled out, as she walked into the training room.

“Hey aren’t you Anya’s grandmother?” Damian asked innocently.

Anya could now feel daggers being glared right at her from Sylvia as she approached the two.

Swapping her sudden dread to continue questioning her ex boyfriend.

“Hey you need to answer me what are you doing on a spec ops team? I thought you going to college for history?”

“Ahem” Sylvia tried to interrupt.

“I did!…. At the military academy.” He answered without distraction.

Anya just looked at him with a cocked eyebrow

“Hey I’m not rich anymore.” He defended. “Now what about you? I thought you were studying to be a psychiatrist in Westalis?”

“Ahem” Sylvia said louder now and visibly annoyed.

“I still am. WISE is just paying for it while I help them out. And it’s paying off since I PSYCHED you out earlier. She said showing off her signature smug smile.

“You got lucky and it still ended in a draw!”

“Captain Watkins is not going to hear the end of this. Sylvia sighed in defeat as the two rivals bickered like children.

[charmingcherrypops]

stomach all in knots

a story about phoenix wright and his dreams.

inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo

a/n: my first fan fiction, how exciting! hope you enjoy..!! spoilers for the trilogy!!

as for warnings, there’s nothing TOO graphic or scary, but there are descriptions of panic attacks like symptoms, which could be distressing to some. there are also descriptions of phoenix eating the necklace. hurt/no comfort .over all it’s pretty sad and agnsty and maybe considered heavy. No happy end. Sorry folks

as always put yourself first and keep yourself healthy.

story below ⬇️!

phoenix wright was never a stranger to strange dreams. (they were almost prophetic in a way, foreshadowing how he himself would bring upon his own undoing. whether that be out of loyalty of others or in spite of himself, it was a fact that his self righteousness destroy him.)

most of his dreams were with miles. by the blood that flowed through his veins and the nerve pathways that cascaded throughout his body, by god, he would save miles edgeworth in these dreams. he never remembers how he does actually save him in these dreams, (maybe that’s on purpose) but he does. he always does. they end the same, with a reunion of the two parties, with a feeling that could only be described as pure light. when they come together, in these dreams, it was as if the sun and moon, with all the stars and star dust in the sky — everything made of light — gathered together. phoenix felt that all was right with miles by his side, even his dream self muttering one night ,

“this is everything i ever wanted.”

and then phoenix would wake up. he would wake up cold, and alone, stomach void of the light that was once there just 15 minutes prior. and then phoenix had to go about his day, like nothing ever happened. walks to the courthouse filled his head with a fog that never really left. he’s getting restless, biting his nails, thinking about what he could have done differently to save miles. really save him.

tonight was different.

tonight he dreamt of dollie.

and she’s beautiful as ever.

she’s got the world in her eyes, roses on her cheeks, and a familiar heart on her chest. her voice is sickly sweet like honey, and with open arms embraces phoenix. just like old times. and a part of him wishes he could stay like this forever. so naive to the world. so trusting in others. so trusting in that inherent goodness in people.

especially in those he cares about.

she gives him a little peck on the cheek, and runs off, in a rush like she’s late to class. or late to other important affairs she’s got to deal with.

he doesn’t know. he can’t tell — or rather, he never was ABLE to tell.

so she’s gone, parting with her kiss of betrayal. in the exact opposite manner of the dreams with edgeworth, he begins the dream in a pair and ends up alone. and that light he once felt is now stomach pain. it feels like a growing nightmare he can’t escape , and his jaw , his jaw aches from chewing. and his throat feels like it’s closing in on itself

and then phoenix wakes up. he wakes up cold, and alone, with a stomach ache. shivering. he’s about to get sick.

phoenix wright calls out of work for the day.

but unfortunately he spends the day thinking about what he could have done differently to maybe save dollie. really save her.

before he goes to bed that night, he prays for the first time in a while, that something like this, or someone like dollie, never enters his life again,

closes his eyes,

and then he dreams of miles.

[mpsansy]

A View In The Garden

Idk what the heck to title this, I haven't written a fanfic in such a long long time :P

Also this has been sitting in my drafts for too long and I needed to share it already. So enjoy the bond Casper will have with his uncle Stinkie!

___

There wasn't a breeze out on this late morning. And by the off chance there was, the young spirit wouldn't have felt it anyway. Couldn't really feel most things if he was being honest with himself. Especially the three uncles that were currently resting within the manor.

But that wasn't really important to him right now. What was important, however, was the new greenery that was sprouting up. With a little convincing and pleading, both Casper and Kat were able to create a colorful landscape in the garden. Initially looking otherwise devoid of life before they started.

It was perhaps the one thing that caught one of Casper's uncle's eyes before darting off, as if to play off his interest at the display.

___

Casper, alone for the meantime, was in pure amazement. Previously when looking for flower seeds so many months ago with Kat, Casper with much enthusiasm, picked out the best flowers for the garden. All with no assistance needed from her.

For a moment, it was fascinating for Kat to see his understanding of most of these plants he picked out. They must've really meant something to the boy to have been picked out with no hesitation.

Unfortunately, she wasn't here to enjoy the garden with Casper. Something with applying for some big school, but either way, he was happy for her. She's doing all kinds of different things now. Things he was very happy with listening to from time to time.

___

The child didn't realize how far time had passed until one of his uncle's came from within the manor. He didn't seem to be in such a bad mood himself, because his call for his nephew was at a normal volume. Unlike his other two uncles who could practically rattle bones with their voices.

Casper looked up to face the uncle who called him. A smile plastered on his face.

"Oh! Hey, uncle Stinkie." He called back. Smile still present.

"What's the deal, shortsheet?" Stinkie asked, floating a bit closer to his nephew. "Have you really been out here all this time lookin' at JUST flowers?"

Casper shook his head.

"Not just flowers. There's more things I've been looking at!"

"More?"

"Mhm!"

Color the other ghost curious, cause once he got to where Casper was resting at, he saw it. Bugs. For most that would probably be uninteresting, however for these two? It was something mesmerizing.

"I don't think I've seen these little critters here in a long time." Stinkie commented to Casper. A few bees passing by, landing and collecting pollen from the newly bloomed flowers.

The boy nodded.

"I think because of all the gardening me and Kat have been doing. It got their attention."

All around the two, life was booming. And Casper tried to show his uncle all the different bugs that were appearing left and right. Besides the bees, there were others. Ants, beetles, caterpillars, you name it. It was all there.

Matter of fact, Stinkie had a response to all this. He was talking about all the different types of bugs Casper had listed off. It's benefits to keeping nature going strong. Especially for a garden such as this.

And for some reason, it felt like Casper had already heard this kind of talk from his uncle before. But this is the first time they've really had a normal conversation. So it was strange.

"Uncle Stinkie, how do you know all this stuff?"

"Hm, what do ya mean?"

Casper continued, now feeling a bit embarrassed to have temporary interrupted his uncle's lecture on bugs.

"Well, I've never seen you interested in stuff like this. I mean, it's really nice to hear it! Honestly."

Stinkie couldn't answer that question initially. With turning his head to Casper briefly and then to the ground. Bringing a finger to tap on his chin. Thinking.

Finally came a response.

"Casper, I'll be honest with ya. An' don't tell the others about this. But I think I'm startin' to remember things."

Casper looked confused.

"Remember?"

"Y'know, like, remember things before being a ghost."

"Oh..."

Give it a second.

"OH!!"

There it is.

"Really?!" His voice came out louder than it should've, quickly clamping his mouth shut.

"Really?" Casper asked again, quietly this time.

Stinkie couldn't help but snicker. Soon nodding to the boy. Looking back to the bugs who had not a single clue of the spirits viewing them.

"It's kinda weird. Didn't even know I had a feelin' of recallin' stuff like this before."

"Does Stretch and Fatso know?" Casper asked. "That you're remembering stuff now?"

A pause, followed with Stinkie's head tilting to his nephew.

"Mm, nah. Just happened recently. S'ides, I'm sure they'd be bored outta their minds hearing me ramble about this new discovery. Better to not make a fuss about it."

Guess he's right about that. They were usually just fixated on the TV than sitting down to hear a random fact about a topic Casper was interested in.

Still, he didn't think his own uncle was finding his memories. Something to ask him more about later.

"I like this though." Stinkie commented, breaking his nephew's train of thought. "Just somethin' about it feels sorta. Nice."

Casper couldn't agree more. And was so happy to hear such a thing coming out of his uncle. It felt so sincere. Something that didn't come often with any of them.

"Yeah."

___

"Say, Casper?"

"Yes, uncle Stinkie?"

"Would you be interested in plantin' more flowers here? I can help if you don-"

Stinkie didn't manage to finish his question. Because in that instance, the boy immediately answered.

"Of course you can! I don't mind at all! But... uhm..." There comes the nervous tone in the boy's voice.

"You think uncle Stretch and Fatso would get annoyed by us spending time outside? And me not inside doing chores?"

"Ah, fuck 'em." Oops. That came out by mistake. Nothing he could do other than cover his mouth.

"Uncle Stinkie, language!" Casper said with an exaggerated gasp, pretending to be shocked at the use of his uncle's profanity. Honestly he's heard so much throughout the years that he could put them in a book.

"... I think it'd be nice ta change things up though. But maybe keep it between us. The rememberin' part that is."

"Yeah, right!" Casper with such excitement couldn't help but wrap his arms around Stinkie. And instead of shoving the child off. He let it be. Smiling as he went to pat the top of his nephew's head.

"Let's get back inside though." Casper said, letting go of his uncle and beginning to float up. "I really don't want to hear Stretch screech his head off about how long we were outside."

"Good idea, bulbhead." That comment was all Stinkie said before following his nephew's lead back inside.

Hopefully they would get to have this time again soon.

[e-to-the-v]

Me: comes up with a fic for a different fandom

Also me: but what if I rewrote it to be boat boys?

[illiana-mystery]

Here's a little something for my mutual @fabuloussisterofsin. Happy Reading!

Cycle of Care

Plot: After another long day in the OBGYN unit of Chelsea General Hospital (he's a gynecologist in this fic), Harding arrives home expecting his usual greeting from his beloved girlfriend and the smell of dinner welcoming him in. However, tonight, he receives neither usual welcoming gestures. Confused, he goes upstairs to investigate to find his dear love sick and weak in their bathroom. So he takes it upon himself to take care of her and make her feel better after her own long day of battling the first bout of her period.

⚠️ This is an 18+ fic with mild NSFW content. Minors do not engage. 🔞 Thank you. 🙂

Taglist: @goodoldcharley , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @braindead94, @curbitkirby, @freddiefredfive, @writingkitten, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

---

“Honey, I'm home,” the older man called from the front corridor as he put his briefcase to the side and hung his coats on the rack nearby.

He waited for your normal response, but to his surprise, it was silent.

He scratched his head in confusion, realizing that you were nowhere in sight.

Swiftly after, he noted that the lights were off in the kitchen and the living room.

That was even more peculiar.

You were always in one of those two rooms when he got home. And you always greeted him after work, especially on long nights like this.

And it was a very, long night.

He made you aware of that, as well as his growing annoyance with all of his fellow OBGYN's at Chelsea General Hospital at the time.

It worried you.

But you did your best to calm him down via text.

You kept sending him videos of apex predators being strong and steadfast in the wild. That, in turn, gave him the confidence and energy he needed to get through the rest of his hellish shift.

So he expected you to welcome him with big, open arms and a nice dinner as soon as he made it back home.

But nothing.

Still, he made his way upstairs to see if you were there. It didn't seem like the house was disturbed in any way and your car was parked outside.

So you had to be upstairs, right?

His inquiry was soon answered as he took his last step up to the top floor. In an instant, he heard you loudly throwing up in your shared master bathroom before the toilet loudly flushed after.

Harding was puzzled. He wondered if you were sick or if it was your monthly gift.

It made more sense that you were just sick, since you never threw up during your cycles.

But then again, you had started a new birth control he prescribed for you, so maybe that was the culprit.

Calmly, he walked into your shared room and then pried the bathroom door open to find you curled over the toilet still hurling into the bowl.

You had been in that same position for longer than 5 minutes and although you felt like you threw up all the remnants of your stomach lining, you still felt the urge to vomit more. So you didn't leave that spot.

However, your eyes did move over to your boyfriend. You felt horrible seeing how concerned he looked.

You could just tell his heart was aching from seeing you in such distress. It was clear as day in his dark eyes.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asked, before you threw up again.

“Hardy,” you started after you picked your head back up. “Babe, I'm fine. I promise. Just some menstrual sickness. I'll be okay.”

“You never have to vomit,” Harding swiftly replied. “This has to be a side effect of the new birth control I put you on.”

“Oh, right,” you responded. “Well, it'll pass. I trust your judgment. I like this birth control so far. If this is the only side effect, well that's fine with me.”

“Right,” he groaned. “How long have you been at the toilet like this?”

“About five minutes,” you admitted. “My period started this afternoon and you know how bad my cramps are. So I was resting, although this new birth control seems to make my cramps not as bad. Anyway, I guess I overslept and didn't have time to cook your dinner. I'm sorry, babe.”

“That's alright. I can warm some leftovers. That doesn't matter right now. What matters is you. Your dysmenorrhea is my main concern right now,” he clarified. “Is it just your normal cramps and this little side effect that's been bothering you today? Is that it?”

“Yes, I promise, Hardy. You don't need to worry about me. I'm okay.”

He wiped his brow in relief.

“Okay, good. I'm glad these new pills are helping your cramps a little, but I hope you won't be throwing up like this frequently. I guess we have to see throughout your cycle what happens,” he started. “But looks like you're done for now, so leftovers will have to wait. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

“We don't have to eat leftovers, Hardy,” you assured him. “That Thai street food place is still open til midnight. Just call it in. I'll get my usual.”

“Okay, but after we shower,” he specified.

“Aye, aye captain,” you teased.

He chuckled, before walking over to you and giving you his hand. You took it and he helped you back on your feet.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he said back, giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek. You blushed, before he bent down lower and gave you another kiss on your neck.

“Hardy,” you cooed. “What are you doing?”

“Just because I can't kiss your lips right now, doesn't mean I don't want to kiss you at all,” he explained, as his hands moved to your clothes.

Gingerly, he took your tank top off before swiping your shorts and panties off too.

And when he glanced at your bare body, he couldn't help but lick his lips.

Sure, he had seen you naked plenty of times, but your natural curves and soft skin always made him go mad.

You were just so beautiful to him. It made him go crazy every time.

“Damn. You take my breath away every time I see your bare skin.”

You giggled, before blushing.

“Oh, you,” you chirped. “Now it's my turn.”

He snickered, before you moved forward and removed his bowtie. Once discarded, you began to unbutton his crisp work shirt and quickly threw it to the side to expose his peak form you loved so much.

Oh his titties and little paunch looked so nice under the bathroom lighting. And his little tufts of chest hair really were a nice garnish to his natural look.

But you had to see him bare like you were.

It wasn't enough to just see his glorious chest.

You wanted to bask in him, even if you couldn't have sex like you wanted to right now.

“Still admiring me?” he asked, thick eyebrow cocked up.

“When am I not? You're so damn handsome.”

He blushed before asking in a cocky tone,

“Are you gonna take off my trousers and boxers? Or will I have to while you watch?”

“I'm capable of taking off the rest of your clothes and admiring you at the same time,” you huffed as you began to take his pants off.

He just laughed, but loved the look on your face when you saw his unclothed, resting cock.

Well, it was half mast, but still a sight to behold to you.

It still amazed you how nice his cock was and how much his girth made up for his average length.

He had a nice, thick penis and he knew how to use it. And you were ever so grateful, especially on nights like these where he wanted to fuck his stress away.

You were so tempted to at least touch it, just to give him some sexual satisfaction. But to your surprise, he smacked your hand away.

“Oww, what was that for?”

“I don't need you to do that for me. I'm fine. Now let's get in the shower. Tonight, I'm taking care of you. Sex can wait until your cycle is over…that means any and all sexual activity.”

“Yes, Hardy,” you groaned before you followed him into the shower after he started the water.

After manureving to stand in front of your big and tall boyfriend, you sighed in relief as the gentle caress of warm water coated your aching body.

Harding always knew the right setting to put the shower spray on and tonight was no different. It felt like the soft pour of rain deep within the Amazon, and it was heaven to you.

He took notice of your euphoria, smiling at the sight of your content.

Your smile and the way your face would turn red at the slightest compliment or touch always warmed his heart.

He never liked to see you down or hurt or sick, so seeing this change in demeanor really helped him calm his worry for the moment.

“Relaxed?” he softly asked.

You nodded, running your hand through your now damp hair.

He lightly chuckled, before suddenly asking,

“Are your breasts tender?”

“A little,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I forgot to earlier,” he clarified. “Allow me to help with that.”

You giggled, before the blush on your face exposed how excited you were for him to touch and massage your breasts.

Because you knew he wasn’t JUST gonna massage your breasts.

And you were proven right, yet again when you felt his soft belly against your back.

You mewed, before he bent down and began to track his lips down your jaw and into your neck. His gentle kisses made you feel all warm inside, before he finally moved his hands over to your bosom.

Gingerly, he rubbed the tips of his index and ring fingers on both hands against your nipples, moving them in a circular motion.

You bit your lip, trying not to scream at how good it felt. Harding was more than aware of how sensitive your nipples were, being your gynecologist first and all.

The memory of you moaning audibly when he gave you your breast exam during your first appointment with him still made both of you giggle.

“Still so sensitive,” he whispered against your shoulder he was now kissing. “Just like the first time I touched you there.”

“Yeah,” you hummed. “Your fingers and hands just feel so good.”

He chuckled.

“That's what made me fall in love with you,” he admitted.

“Really? You never told me that.”

“I guess I never wanted to admit it. But we've been together for a year now so might as well be honest. I never thought I would fall in love so quickly after my wife died. But then you came into my office, you beautiful ray of sunshine. My angel, sent to me from above. Your smile, your laugh, your timid voice, it all just sent my soul ablaze. I'm just glad you gave an old man like me a chance.”

“Oh, Hardy. I love you,” you hummed. “And I don't care that you're older than me. You know I like older men. You've been a heaven sent to me too. You're the best gynecologist and boyfriend a girl could ever hope to have. And between you and me, I've never had orgasms as good as you give me.”

He snickered before blushing himself.

“Thank you kindly, angel. I love you too,” he assured you with a quick kiss to your cheek.

His hands moved up to your soft flesh after, and gently he knead your boobs between his strong and sturdy hands.

You moaned loudly as he did so, leaning more into his belly as his massage became a little firmer.

“Still feels good, angel?”

“Yes, yes, Hardy. Please don't stop.”

“I’ll keep going for a little longer. But I have to address your cramps soon too,” he explained. “Looks like you don't have any lumps though. That's good.”

You laughed.

“It's not a breast exam, Hardy. You're always on, I swear.”

“Nothing wrong with checking on your breast health while I’m making you feel good,” he remarked.

“I guess you got me there,” you relented, before he slowly removed his hands from your breasts. “Thank you, Hardy. That felt so good.”

“You're welcome, angel,” he quickly replied before he took the handheld shower head off of its stand and angled it at your stomach and midsection.

“What are you doing?” you asked, annoyed that the water wasn't falling down on you anymore.

“Handling your cramps,” he swiftly said, before his thumb pushed the nob down and made the water spray out a little heavier and a bit faster against that skin.

“Ooh, okay. That feels really good,” you moaned, making Harding give you another cheek kiss.

“I know, love. I'm just gonna run this over your abdomen and midsection for a couple of minutes. Let me know if I need to change the speed or the temperature.”

“Okay,” you cooed.

He only snickered in response, keeping the shower head in his left hand while his right hand held your waist steady.

His hand holding your waist also moved in circles, gingerly tickling your skin there. It made you giggle and he gave you a sweet neck kiss after.

“Okay, you want me to run the water on your tummy a little longer? Or are you ready for me to wash your hair and body?”

“I'm ready for you to wash me,” you replied. “I miss more of your touch.”

He snickered in your ear.

“I'll wash your hair first,” he whispered, after he put the shower head back on its stand. “I want to take my time washing your beautiful body and praising it like I want to.”

“Okay…daddy…”

“What did you call me?” he asked, his voice oozing with intrigue.

“You heard me…daddy.”

He sinisterly snickered before pulling you closer to his paunch again.

“I'm gonna tear you up in 5 days,” he warned with a kiss to your ear and jaw. “But until then, I'm gonna make you squirm and beg for Wednesday night to come.”

“Oh, daddy,” you whimpered, as his teeth grazed your sensitive spot on your neck. He nibbled down, making you jolt a bit before you moaned in ecstasy.

“Sexy temptress,” he moaned, before he moved his head and hands from you.

You whined, but turned your head to see him gathering your shampoo in one hand as his other hand pushed down the pump.

“I'm coming,” he said when he saw you looking his way. “Be patient, little grasshopper.”

You giggled.

“Okay,” you playfully moaned before you felt his shampoo slathered palms moving around your scalp and hair.

His firm, big hands always felt so nice moving the shampoo around.

It was the most pleasant head massage.

“Rinse,” he instructed you before you ran your head right under the shower again and let the shampoo run down your skin and down the drain.

As you were doing that, Harding gathered some conditioner the same way as the shampoo.

You both met halfway again after and soon he was working the conditioner into your hair.

He was even more thorough, knowing that your conditioner of choice made your hair even more smooth and silky than it naturally was.

Because he loved touching and admiring your hair. It was one of his favorite ways to show affection to you other than the neck kisses and bites he always gave you.

“Okay. I'll let that sit while I wash you off,” he told you. “Would you like me to bathe you with your lavender wash or cucumber melon wash?”

“Lavender, please,” you answered.

“Your wish is my command, angel,” he replied, before he put some of the liquid on your favorite purple loofah.

He started moving the loofah against your back, making sure to make his fingers slip from the material so it could graze your back.

You whined at the teasing touch, so he began to kiss every area his fingers and loofah traced.

And to your delight, he got on his knees to playfully smack your ass before he moved the loofah over and kissed right where he smacked you.

“Oh, daddy. You're so naughty,” you teased to get a reaction out of him.

“I'll definitely be Wednesday,” he promised as he got off his knees.

He turned you around after, fully intending to wash off your breasts first.

He was gentle though especially when he got to your pussy.

And his kisses felt even nicer as he went on while you were facing him.

“Okay, you can rinse again,” he told you after he got back up on his feet again.

“Yes, daddy,” you teased again, as you did as he said.

Once you were done rinsing your body and the conditioner out of your hair, you returned the favor by washing Harding off with his favorite Old Spice gel.

He was practically mewing at your soft touch too, since you let your fingers slip past the loofah like he had. And you gave him many many kisses upon his body as well.

You just had to show him how much you loved him and appreciated his care.

“That was quite a shower,” Harding said after he turned the water off.

“Yeah, it was. But I'm hungry now.”

“Ditto,” he replied. “But let's get dried off and dressed first. Then I'll order dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said back, following him out of the shower.

As expected, Harding insisted on drying your body and hair off before he dried himself off.

Then, of course, he also dressed you in your favorite pajamas once you put some new pads and panties on.

You threw your now dry hair into a bun after, while he got into his own pair of favorite pajamas.

You stared intently, but he didn't notice until he pulled his pajama pants up. Then he chuckled once he noticed.

“Like what you see?”

“Of course, handsome,” you said, reassuring him with a warm hug.

“Angel, you're too kind,” he said, his face turning completely red. “Now let's get you to bed. I'll order our food after.”

“Okay,” you hummed, rubbing your head against his arm.

He chuckled again, kissed your forehead, and then led you back into your room.

Without hesitation, you crawled to your side of the bed and let him tuck you in before he gave you another kiss upon your cheek.

“Take it easy, angel. I'm gonna go back downstairs, order the food, and wait for it while you rest up here.”

“Sounds good to me,” you chirped, before he left you, snickering all the way downstairs.

Luckily, you weren't by yourself in bed for too long. Between Harding ordering the food and him waiting for it, it was about 25 minutes of wait time.

And when he made his way back upstairs, you got really excited because you could hear his loud footsteps.

You smiled as he made his way back into the room. And you noticed that he had a tray with two bowls and two tea cups in his hands.

“Dinner is served,” he announced. “I got us Pad Thai to share, some roti bread, and green tea. I just wanted some tea, but I figured that you could have some too. It does help with cramps.”

“Aww, Hardy…thank you!,” you said as he came over to your side of the bed and placed the tray down by your feet.

Carefully, he gathered the teacup and put it on your nightstand before he handed you your bowl he topped with the roti bread.

You grabbed it and smiled at him, then watched as he moved the tray over to his side to get his bowl and teacup.

And once he got his self straightened out, he got closer to you in the bed.

“You can eat now, angel,” he said after he noticed you hesitating. “You don't have to wait for me.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” you clarified. “Thank you for making my first night of shark week better. You always have a way of picking me back up.”

“Funny, I could say the same,” he said with a hardy chuckle. “You're welcome, though. Guess this night wasn’t a complete bust on my end either.”

You giggled, before you leaned against his arm.

“I love you so much, Hardy. I'm so glad you're off tomorrow so you can take care of me more.”

He laughed.

“I love you more, angel. I'm glad to be off too. Because there's no patient I rather be with and care for than you,” he assured you...

...making you blush even more.

[mysticarts]

"....She Cares?" A small Gunntech au oc scene

(Note, Gunntech Au belongs to @elmushterri and them only.)

First off, I'm writing this as celebration as one of my idols not only likeing my art style, BUT ALSO THAT SHE ADORES KAILANI, WOOOOOOO

Context: if Kailani is in this show, I imagine there's a long side arc about Isabella finding about Kailani and hunting her down. So when Isabella finally catches Kailani and rants about how evergone abandoned her, she didn't expect Kailani to cry in reply.

SCENE

SEASON THREE, EPISODE ??? "Beneath the spikey corals"

"....Why are you crying?" Isabella asked, being a little put off by Kailani's tears.

"...they threw you aside, like you where nothing!" Kailani Exclaimed, her voice being shakey due to the tears flowing down her face. "That...you didn't deserve that! No one should have to go what you have been through!"

Isabella's expression turned into one of suprsie. She never met a girl so emotional or actually caring about her before. How did Gunntech allow such an emotional girl to be a worker? Isabella pushed the thought away, focusing on Kailani.

"Yeah, I'll agree with you on that. But that dosent explain why you're so emotional about this" Isabella commented, with Kailani becoming visibly more upset.

"OF COURSE IM EMOTIONAL!" Kailani shouted with a tone of sadness and anger, her hair visibly starting to look like tentacles the more she got upset.

"If you got turned into the way you are now, and just tossed to the side, who knows how many people have been through that pain? How many people had to suffer disappointment, how many people being shunned from society, all because Gunntech wanted someone perfect?" Kailani rambled, pacing across the underwater cove as Isabella watched her, feeling uncomfortable

"Well, that's just Gunntech. If you're not good, they throw you to the pits." Isabella replied, looking down at Kailani. Isabella wouldn't be lying if she felt the tiniest bit of pity for the girl. Kailani never even knew of Isabella's existence.

Kailani was quiet, so many things zooming through her mind. The place she dedicated almost her entire life too, was destroying innocent people's lives, and she was helping with that. Kailani didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of her. There was nothing Kailani could do with this new information. If anyone found out Kailani knows about Isabella, most likely she'd suffer a worst fate than death.

Kailani took off her uniform shades as she wiped her tears before looking up at Isabella, showing a kind smile. "....You won't mind if I hang out with you tomorrow?"

SCENE END

This was fun to right, lol-

Yall seem to love Kaliani, and I don't blame yall I love her. I MADE HER ADORABLE RAHHH.

Just wait until I release her digital and colored look oh yall aren't ready when I learn color theory-

Feel free to ask Kailani any questions!

[ghostoffuturespast]

Les Préludes - No. 1 Smalltown Boy

Before being slotted into the head of a certain merc. Before the Relic and Mikoshi. Arasaka Tower and Samurai. Before deserting with a trademark arm and going to war… There was just a smalltown boy from College Station, Texas.

Look, I know what Mike said.

But in the ineffable words of Gracie Maeve Linder: "There sure as shit ain't no God in this house.”

Read here on AO3.

Thank you to @luvwich for beta reading! 💙 I appreciate you helping me make this a lean, mean, fighting machine.

April 2004 It was an indisputable fact – that from a very young age – Robert John Linder had fucking hated his name. Robert. Rob. Bob. Bobby. Linder. Moron. Dumbass. Motherless son of a bitch. He’d been called just about every variation of the name "Robert" you could think of underneath the goddamn Texas sun. Problem was, over the course of almost sixteen years, and, being the troublemaker he was, he’d just gotten into the habit of always answering when someone said his name. And habits, especially the bad ones, well, sometimes they’re just plain hard to break. Like now for instance. Behind the football equipment shed of A&M Consolidated High School, where Robert was trying to enjoy the auditory company of The Plasmatics with the pack of smokes he’d stolen from his dead beat excuse of an old man.

[XOXO]

[yesmaddyposts]

Moth to a Flame

Fandom: The Fall Guy (2024) Word Count: 5.7k Relationships: Colt Seavers X Jody Moreno Tags: Drug Addiction, Injury Recovery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, During Canon Link

Description: Colt has a long road ahead of him in the journey to recovery after breaking his back. He falls into bad habits along the way, and ends up losing way more than he planned for.

[attapullman]

Apparently this week I have leaned into telling all my friends about my Tumblr journey and writing fan fiction.

If my friends thought I was a tad unhinged before, we are officially one step closer to them straight-jacketing me.

[notmichealangelo]

A Brother’s Heartache

AKA I saw this new clip of Mario fucking up a bunch of bricks, blacked out, and woke back up with an entire one shot written. I just really loved the emotion here and wanted to share my take on it before the movie is released!

Mario’s knuckles ached. His legs ached, his arms ached, his head ached, and now that he was alone, he noticed a new pressure beginning to build in his eyes. He had been at this godforsaken training course all night, and all he had to show for it were bruised hands, an even more bruised ego, and the fact that the edges of the world had begun to fade into purple with the coming of dawn. 

  He now sat on the balcony Princess Peach had used to observe his training earlier, except the princess in question had left to give the plumber some space. She was a kind woman with the best intentions, Mario could tell that much even after having just met her, but she wasn’t yet the best at... emotional pep-talks. She had soon noticed Mario’s growing frustration with her attempts at cheering him on and decided that leaving him to collect himself might be a safer option than anything she might try to say. Mario appreciated that. He made a mental note to apologize for snapping at her earlier after he fell from the disappearing platforms for the twenty-fifth time.  Mario sighed and removed his hat, watching as the twinkling stars disappeared one by one, and the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. He had made so little progress, and they had so little time. Never mind the rising threat of Bowser taking over the other kingdoms, that freak had his little brother. Mario’s grip on his hat tightened, and he lowered his head to view the capital ‘M’ that rested on the front of it, only to realize it looked more like a blurry mass of red and white. Mario wiped at his eyes to clear his vision but found that more moisture came to replace anything he would wipe off. 

Would he really be able to save his brother?

“Uh... Hey, is this a bad time, or-”

Mario jumped and screamed, turning to face the sudden voice, fists blindly raised in front of him. He froze when his eyes landed on Toad, who held two glasses of water and an embarrassed look on his face. Mario relaxed.  

“You scared the hell outta me, man,” said Mario after catching his breath. He sat back down on the white tile and wiped any further evidence of tears off his face. “We gotta get you a bell or something.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Said the little mushroom creature, “I jus’ didn’t wanna leave you out here by yourself for too long. Y’coulda gotten... lost or something.” Toad sat down beside Mario, offering him one of the glasses of water. Mario gladly took it, not realizing how thirsty he was.  

They sat in silence for a little while, watching the sky lighten. Toad was the first to speak up after a few minutes.

“So... what’s your brother like?”

“Huh?” Replied Mario, snapping out of his trance and turning his head to look at his little friend. Toad repeated himself.

“What’s your brother like? You haven’t talked about him much since we first met. Tell me about him. What’s his name again? Louis?”  

Mario stared into his glass of water, chuckling.

“His name is Luigi,” Mario began, “And, well... We’ve kinda done everything together since we were born. He’s younger than me, but the little jerk managed to be taller, and he’s never gonna let me live it down. He’s kinda shy, I usually have to encourage him to try new things, but funnily enough, he’s a lot more creative than me. We recently started a new plumbing business, and the commercial was his idea...”

Mario described his and Luigi’s adventures in Brooklyn, from elementary school and before to the present and their plans beyond that. The red clad plumber was halfway through telling Toad about how Luigi had tackled a kid in middle school for ripping up Mario’s favorite baseball cards when he realized he was getting choked up again. Mario frantically cleared his throat and began wiping his face, and Toad patted his arm.  

“You really miss him, don’t you?” asked Toad softly. Mario could only nod. “Yeah, I would too. I’m sure this is real tough for you, not having him here.” Mario nodded again, sniffling.  

“Hey,” Toad said suddenly, “What d’you think he’d say to you right now?”

“... What?” asked Mario, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“You heard me, what would Louis- Er, Luigi say to you right now? Right at this very second?” Toad was looking at him intently now. Mario began to think.  

“Probably something gushy like... It’s okay to be scared, and- and it’s okay to take breaks and ask for help. Then he’d give me a hug, then he’d hug me for too long and I’d have to force him to get off me, heh...”  

Mario could name at least five scenarios that played out exactly like that. They usually ended with someone’s elbow in someone else’s gut, but a room filled with laughter and lifted spirits, nonetheless. He smiled at the memories, but the smile quickly fell away.  

“God, Toad, he must be terrified,” said Mario as he ran a hand through his hair. “Who knows what they’re- what they’re doing to him, what if-”

Toad shoved a tiny hand in Mario’s face, wagging a finger.  

“Nuh-uh, no more thinking like that,” Said Toad, who was now standing, his other hand on his hip, “You’re allowed to worry, but your brother needs you to be strong for him. That’s why her highness was pushing you so hard, even if she... probably didn’t go about it the right way.

Listen, you might not be the best fighter in the six kingdoms yet, but Luigi needs you. He needs you to fight for him. And from what you told me, I know he’s got faith in you. Now you just need faith in yourself. You’re not alone in this either, Mario. We’re gonna kick that Koopa’s butt and we’re gonna rescue your brother together, okay?”  

Who knew little mushroom people could be so thoughtful?

Mario gave Toad a watery smile.  

“Thanks, man,” said the human quietly. Toad nodded and smiled.  

“Now get back out there! Show those inanimate objects who’s boss!” Toad shouted, pushing Mario towards the training course. Mario took a breath and put his hat back on.  

The sun was finally beginning to rise, painting the world in purples and oranges. Luigi preferred sunrises over sunsets, and Mario always made fun of his brother for growing so tired so early in the evening, with Luigi always replying with how much he enjoyed watching the sun rise. Mario wondered if his little brother could see the sunrise now, from wherever he was being kept. Mario clenched his fists.  

Hold on little bro, thought Mario, I’ll be there soon. The plumber charged forward, his fists raised and a new fire in his eyes.  

---  

When Peach returned to the balcony, the sun had risen much further into the sky, the last colors of dawn slipping away. She had come with snacks and a change of clothes for Mario as a peace offering, but her eyes widened at the sight before her. Toad stood dangerously on top of the railing to the balcony, whooping and cheering as Mario smashed through another solid brick wall. He jumped off fake bullet bills, dodged automated piranha plants, and let out a determined shout as he smashed through the wooden standup of Bowser.  

“Toad, what did you feed him?” asked Peach in bewilderment, watching Mario in awe.  

“Love and support!” Replied the little toadstool haughtily, placing his hands on his hips. “Turns out I’m just as talented at pep talks as I am at adventuring!”

Peach laughed incredulously and patted Toad on the head. Mario had reached the flagpole at the top of the course and was now jumping and whooping in excitement. Peach clapped enthusiastically. Maybe they really did have a shot at this.