#it’s because Chloe was ALWAYS like that

[artyandink]

where CLARK becomes obsessed with eating CINNAMON.ᐟGIRL’S pussy in a week.

DAY ONE.ᐟ

It wasn’t even a thought at first, with his track record with girls he wanted to take it slow so he knew it was a safe bet to fall head over heels for your pretty ass. Most he thought about was kissing your permanently balmed lips, kissing your cheeks, admiring your smile, playing with the folds of your clothing and how you always smelled like cinnamon.

An innocent thought.

And now, the end of the school day. When Clark could just come home, say hi to his mom and dad, then head up to the barn where he knew his girl would be waiting. And sure enough, as he jogged up the stairs to the top of the barn, there you were, readily waiting, dressed in your usual little baggy-looking top with the poofy sleeves that he didn’t know the name of — wait, it was a bustier top, as you’ve reminded him — with a little white skirt, a bow in your hair, bows on your gorgeous stockings with your lace-ups abandoned by the side of the bed.

Gorgeous.

But you were also working on the bio homework you’d got that day, so he raised an eyebrow, chucked his bag onto the bed and instantly got on to hug you to him and nuzzle your neck. “Clark!” You giggled, squealing and swatting his shoulder before your lips were caught up in his, hand resting gently on your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you started without me.” He pouted, pulling back to look at you with puppy eyes, but a peck from you earned his winning smile again. “C’mon, what are we lookin’ at?” He shifted you so you were on his lap, chest against his back, inhaling that natural scent of spice and sugar syrup from cinnamon buns.

You tapped the page with your pen, relaxing into it and beginning to explain the task, but something else caught his eye. It was a small thing, but he saw a flash of something, it was— it was white, and lacy, and he could see it from under your skirt—

Oh, God, your panties.

He had to drag his eyes away from the magnetic pull they had to that small glimpse of lace, casually sliding his hand up your outer thigh to push your skirt over that little sliver of white lace, that… tantalising view, there— God forbid your dignity be jeopardised if someone came up here.

Whew. Crisis averted.

DAY TWO.ᐟ

Crisis #2 was due soon — because obviously, no one could give him a damn break — when he was helping you tie up this pretty lil’ pair of heels you’d bought that were tied up by a ribbon. His fingers glided across your smooth skin as he wrapped the soft fabric around your ankle delicately, and it wasn’t until he gave you a gentle smile from below did he see up your skirt, and he nearly felt his heat vision activate from the sight.

Your choice of clothing was always so sexy, the pink lace that looked like a scrap on your skin, your supple thighs that he just wanted to— ay, woah, stop there. His thoughts screeched to a halt, and he sufficed that train of thought with a delicate press of his lips to your ankle when he’d made the bow to tie the last shoe and the whole ensemble together.

Why did his head feel kind of fuzzy?

There y’are.” He grinned, taking your hand and brushing his lips over your knuckle— your own Prince Charming, it gave you butterflies. Honestly? His head felt kinda heavy as he stood up and planted a gentle kiss to your lips— see, totally innocent. Totally, no alternate story or subconscious thought here.

DAY THREE.ᐟ

This felt wrong, but he couldn’t help it.

Something as simple as sitting and chatting with Lana and Chloe— you were sitting with your legs spread, skirt hiked up enough, your amiable look between him and the other three doing absolutely nothing to stop him feeling drunk on the position you were in.

Maybe if the others weren’t here, he could kiss up your legs, starting from your ankle. Why was he thinking all this— to combat it, he just gently tapped your foot with his, and you happily climbed onto his lap, legs around his waist and arms around his neck like you were a koala with a giggle.

He let put a sigh of relief, taking one for the team as he stroked your hair, inhaled your natural scent and took one for the team by taking the brunt force of all the good-natured ribbing from Lana and Chloe. All while his brain pumped oxygen back into it and made him stop feeling so goddamn light and airy just by seeing how you were seated, it felt so strange.

“Lovebirds.”

“I hear wedding bells!”

“Shut up, guys.” Clark’s jab wasn’t only to himself, it was to the rest of him which thought that being permanently brain dead around you was a good idea. God, this was not normal at all.

DAY FOUR.ᐟ

Clark found himself to be thirstier than usual. Literally, and figuratively.

He’d be hanging out with you, watching a movie, and when you did something like bite your lip or your skirt would hike up a little, he would mutter an excuse to go get water— not really an excuse, his mouth felt like it was two Saharas in one mouth. Glass after glass, and you’d seen him return after his fifth, which came with the mental reminder to lecture himself to not pop a boner. He had more control over his… anatomy!

Even with all the tall and endless glasses of water, something felt missing.

He went with you to the Talon to get lunch, and as he was sharing an apple pie with you, he couldn’t help but think his sweet taste buds weren’t satiated, and even as he looked up, his eyes got stuck on your pretty legs, where your skirt ended at your mid-thigh, and all you’d do was tilt his chin up and kiss him softly with a giggle, oblivious.

Oh, dear Lord, what was happening to him?

He was licking his lips more often, and his brain was more adept and conjuring thoughts of having you straddling something that was not his hips, or having you laid down on the couch and hearing pretty sounds come from you that he’d only heard when his mom and dad got too loud or when his mom and dad were watching an adult movie.

Guess Martha and Jonathan might be the common denominator.

Even so, he forced himself to avert his eyes when you bent over the table to give Lana and Chloe their coffees, your skirt lifting up just that bit— oh, mama, just drink the water, drink the water.

“Hi.” You giggled, perching yourself on his lap, and things would’ve been totally fine had his hand not autocorrected to find your ass— nope, he instantly moved it up to the small of your back and kissed your cunt cheek. He meant cheek, he wasn’t thinking about anything else, who ever— nobody— his brain was gonna shut up now.

His jaw clenched briefly, and he swallowed, deciding to give the farm boy smile like nothing was raging inside of his brain and peck your pouty, cinnamon-stained lips, fingers brushing across your soft cheek. “Hey, there. One’a those for me?” He’d been getting into cinnamon lattes now that you’d introduced him to them, so you were holding two piping hot cinnamon lattes that he looked down to.

And as he looked down, he could see your perfect thighs, and contrary to his drying mouth, he now had too much saliva in them.

He swallowed. Shit.

DAY FIVE.ᐟ

“Oh, my God, shit—” Clark couldn’t think straight, his nerve endings on fire, cause it felt so damn good, it felt so, so— he had no words. All he knew was that his eyes were rolling back, his mouth was open, his cock was most definitely leaking, and if his parents came up here they’d be very concerned.

He panted, the veins in his neck popping as his jaw clenched and a strangled grunt broke past his sealed lips, along with a needy whine. “O—Oh, sweetheart, that’s— don’t you stop, ok? Don’t you stop.”

He was getting images as his free hand clenched in the sheets, images he’d never had before until this week, of peeling your panties off your soaked pussy like they were the bow to your sweet present, of rubbing his nose against your clit as he gripped your spread thighs (or they’d be over his shoulders, he was not fussed at all) and lapping at you, licking you and letting his tongue delve and taste every bit of you until you could no longer comprehend that the outside world exists.

Judging by how much cinnamon you had, your cunt would probably be sweeter than your mouth. Just his luck that he’s got a tooth for that.

He tightly clamped his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle any sounds, but that didn’t work, it slipped out due to a shuddering gasp that shook his very lungs, your mouth— no, his hand, you weren’t here right now, his hand moving up and down his cock, which felt extra sensitive today.

Well, of course it felt extra sensitive, he’d practically been accidentally edged all day by your gorgeous ass when you sat back to his chest and way too high up his lap during the study session at the Talon, and so he’d shimmied you down to stop a moan from leaving his mouth.

Even as he moaned, he licked his lips and swallowed, like he was tasting something above him— oh, god, your pussy. It was so pretty, he knew that from the times he’d gotten his fingers there to soothe you after a bad day or when your brain wasn’t working on hard homework and just needed a reset. But he’d never tasted it or anything, he’d just wiped them on a tissue, and now it was the one thing — oh, God, just stop, this was objectifying, and Clark was a strong believer in a woman’s privacy.

“Sh—Shit—” He wanted to lick his fingers from now on, not waste a single drop of you, and that thought was the thing which sent him into a white hot fucking orgasm, head falling back against the pillows as he quickly caught the come that came from his cock with a tissue, panting and revelling in the ignorance and pure bliss that came before the reality that he just objectified his girlfriend.

He knew better, and you were so darling to him, he couldn’t. He should stop.

Your pussy—

DAY SIX.ᐟ

Was Clark on top of you, no shirt, forearm braced beside your head and lips attached to your neck a hot sight?

Yes.

It was a sight that made your thighs rub together despite yourself, and you couldn’t really ignore the growing ache growing inside you, along with the slight throb in your clit at the repeated, open-mouthed presses to your neck, jaw and behind your ear. His hands were on your waist, your hips, over your tits and thighs, then moved to the buttons of your cardigan, pulling back to look at you.

Eye contact was big with him.

“Can I?” He murmured, and when you nodded, he slipped the buttons off and gently took off your camisole, coming face to face with no bra. A small grin flickered across his lips as he looked up to you, head dipping down to kiss over your tits and briefly suck then into his mouth, pressing small, worshipping pecks which had you moaning softly, fingers threading through his hair.

The quiet whimpers that came from your mouth could only be frowned out by one thing— his mind repeating the word pussy and his body rewriting like it was the one thing he couldn’t live without. “Need to try somethin’, pretty, but you can tell me t’ stop, at any time.” He murmured, kissing your stomach gently.

You ran the possibilities in your upstairs brain, but your downstairs brain had the reins right now. “Yeah,” you mumbled in response, stomach flexing under his lips — ugh, so hot — as they slowly travelled downward, his fingers skimming down your sides to gently undo your sweats and hook his finger in your sweats and panties’ waistband, pulling them down and off your legs.

The wait to it was excruciating, he’d checked to see if you were wet as a sign that yes, you were enjoying this (which you were, you were soaking), and if the butterfly kisses were doing anything, they were making you impatient rather than easing you into it. “Clark, c’mon.”

“Okay, okay! I’ve got you,” He chuckled, then started with it. He began in slow, languid strokes, tongue flat and gathering all the taste of you on his tongue that instantly hit his taste buds— oh, my.

Oh, Lord.

The taste was heavenly, it was ambrosia, it was salvation, so much that he was already moaning at the taste and pulling you closer by how his strong arms were wrapped around your plush thighs, biceps flexing to the delight of your eyes from further up the bed, grinding against the mattress. Not to mention how he’d turned from hesitant to slow, burning, devouring in half a second, drawing the pretty moans from you that’d plagued his head the whole week.

The whole thing was new to you— you were a virgin, and you’d certainly never had anyone go down on you before, so Clark’s tongue between your legs had first been something that your body wanted to jump away from on reflex. But when said tongue slid into your pussy?

You could’ve died and gone to hell right there.

Jonathan and Martha (our famous common denominators) would’ve been traumatised by the obscene noises coming from you both, the groans and murmurs of encouragement from Clark to “keep it comin’”, about how you were “doin’ so well” and how you “tasted s’good”, all things that made you moan, gasp and whimper — now in that order — add a sprinkling of whines when his nose bumped your clit.

All he could think of was pussy, pussy, pussy, the pads of his fingers digging into your hips and thighs slightly, aiming to bury himself down there and suffocate if need be with your thighs pressed around his ears— it’d be a good way to go, now that he thought about it. A great way to go, abandoning all homework, your softness the only thing he could feel, your sweet taste… on his tongue…

Ok, his rational brain would be right back, after a long break.

“Cl—Clark!” You whimpered, hand tightening in his hair, the other making a fist beside your head, back arching, brow furrowing in bliss. It was such a gorgeous gasp of his name, the only thing he could give back to you was a needy whine. That’s right, needy.

He’d become an expert between three licks, his superhearing picking up on the small cues, the little tremble, the difference in this gasp and that gasp, until he felt you come on his tongue with a cry of his name and a loud whine, quickly sucking all of what you offered him up like his mom’s cooking. But sweeter.

As for him? If you weren’t too delirious from the new feeling, you would’ve seen a telltale stain of how he came in his pants— he couldn’t help it! You’d felt too good, his brain had fuzzed over, he’d ground against the mattress, there was no way he wasn’t getting off to you getting off.

”You did so well, pretty,” He grinned, lips and chin covered in you, the word pussy still ringing in his brain as he collected it all with his thumb and sucked it off, closing his eyes at the taste and moaning before leaning up to kiss you gently.

Only then did you taste yourself on his tongue— and you kind of saw the hype, what with how sweet it was, and even though it felt kind of weird to taste yourself, it was Clark. You trusted Clark.

He pulled away, grinning a saliva-lipped, winning smile and rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb, kissing your nose. “You ok, sweetheart? I didn’t hurt you?”

“No.” You shook your head, voice quiet, still in a bit of a daze— oh, his pretty baby. That earned you a kiss to your forehead, and before you knew it, he was creeping off and coming back with a warm, damp rag.

“Let’s just get you comfy— attagirl,” He mumbled as he gently got you more comfortable on the pillows with his farm boy strength (or so you thought), shushing the whine of sensitivity when your thighs rubbed together. “Shh, baby, I know, I know, we’ll get y’cleaned up.”

Still keeping you pacified with a stroke of your hair or a peck to your lips, he managed to clean up between your legs with the damp rag without any pain, thank God, and chucked it in the washing basket before anyone noticed.

He also covered it with a bunch of clothes. Like, in the middle of the pile in there, before his mom saw it.

“C’mere.” He said softly, gathering you into a cuddle, tucking both of you in a blanket, whispering how good you were, how well you took what you got, how pretty you sounded.

Y’know, all words that made your pretty, empty head fuzzy enough to be lulled to sleep.

DAY SEVEN, TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE.ᐟ

A normal night of doing your English homework, steady essay writing that Clark wasn’t exactly equipped to help with, it was an essay on personal opinions about a set text. And it was going great, you were halfway there, your back would’ve been aching but no, some Lord above blessed you with an untouched back. Overall, things were going— your bedroom window opened.

Just as you were about to use your English essay as a weapon, you saw the familiar shoe of Clark, and you relaxed further into the bed, knowing you were safe. “Hey, babe— oh!” You gasped when he suddenly climbed onto the bed on top of you, nuzzling right between your legs as he kicked off his shoes with a low moan. “C—Clark, what’re you, what—”

“Shh, just please, baby, I just, I— shit.” He only responded by yanking your pretty sleep shorts with a bow on the top down, licking over your panties to taste you before yanking those down too— oh, you couldn’t hold back how you moaned and melted back into the throw pillows, panting as you let him do his thing.

You’d only had a break from him going down on you for a day, and even then you’d been asked by Chloe and Lana why you were so dazed lately. Now you had Clark mouthing and licking over your panties, until those were practically ripped off and his mouth replaced them. That was the reason why.

“Oh my, oh, gosh—” It spilled from your mouth in waves. Sucking, licking, at a much faster pace than a day ago, add a plethora of different pitched moans and whines, even more so when your hand buried in his hair. His fingers came up to toy with your clit, because he’d learnt that you dripped more when he did, and he was proud to say that he’d learnt everything there was to know about you, inside and out.

“Oh, Clark!” You gasped, hips arching off the bed, but then he suddenly pulled away, lips and chin covered in you, yanking off his jacket then lying down on the bed. He pulled you up, so you were straddling his face and your cunt was all he knew, yanking you down and holding you by your ass while he made you forget all sense of reality. It’s like he was obsessed with eating you out.

He kinda was.

Your hips moved on their own, grinding on his tongue, English essay clattering off the bed, breathlessly calling out to your parents that everything was ok so they didn’t come in and see… this. And even as he was devouring you like you were the tall glass of water he’d been looking for, you couldn’t resist reaching up, pressing your hand to your chest, playing with your tits over your thin camisole.

“That’s good, pretty, play with yourself.” Clark panted amid moans and licks and moans some more, “I’ve got you.”

Pussy. It was the only word that he could understand right now.

[st4rsdoyoulikedem]

Part two of my drivers/junior drivers of a team having things in common series:

Red Bull/Racing bulls

Family picture!! Now, to be a red bull (junior) driver you must be one of two things; either you must have blonde hair or dark hair. (I know this just sounds really basic but trust me on this one)

Group 1: the blondes

From top to bottom, left to right: Max Verstappen, Tim Tramnitz (F3), Sebastian Vettel, the twins Oliver Goethe (F2) and Liam Lawson, Emely de Heus (F1academy 2024), Chloe Chambers (F1academy 2025), and Pierre Gasly.

Commonly paired with a dark-haired counterpart as their teammate, and always serving cunt these are the blonde red bull drivers. I cannot be the only one who noticed that Tim and Liam look like they could be family, right? Even matching backwards hat is giving brothers.

Two of these blondes are both Dutch icons (I might be a bit biased🧡🌊🇳🇱🦁🚲💪) always honest, slaying and staying unbothered . If you weren’t aware I’m of course talking about Max and Emely.

Idk if Chloe and Emely’s hair is naturally blonde or not but idc🤷‍♀️

Group 2: the dark-haired

From top to bottom, left to right: Pepe Martí and Isack Hadjar (F2 2024), Arvid Lindblad (F3 2024), Mark Webber, Sergio Perez, Daniel Ricciardo and Yuki Tsunoda, Nikola Tsolov (F3), Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, Hamda and Amna Al Quibaisi (F1academy 2024).

These dark-haired icons are lightly brushed by melancholy, have a big bomboclatt and are usually drawn to a cunty blonde by an unknown force. It’s so iconic that one pairing in the foto are literal family, and that an other driver on this fotogrid looks like he could be their sibling imo; I’m obviously talking about the Al Quibaisi sisters and Arvid.

These baddies have a rep of getting the short end of the stick, some say this is because they are not blonde and white, I’ll leave that up to you to decide for yourselves.

Down here I’ll just leave some family pictures for you guys to admire:

In the next part I will share the similarities between the junior academies of the other teams. For now: thank you for listening to my Ted talk and I hope you’ll look for my next post:)

[cardiac-agreste]

He didn't bring back Emily because he changed his mind last second.

Ooh, I'm loving that I get to talk about this!

So, in complete friendship, I do not agree with this interpretation, and here's why:

Remove Marinette from the episode. Does Gabriel still change his mind? No. This means Marinette changed his mind by showing him a cell phone video and then reasoning him through what the video meant.

He got together with his wife

I think the show implies there's no such thing as an afterlife (there are a bunch of gods in the show, and when we interact with dead people, it's always ghosts of their past and they lack present cognition (Joan of Arc).

So what we see of him being re-united with Emilie was probably non-diegetic imagery, like how Marinette's hair looks blue to us but it's referred to as black in canon, or how we see a super-long transformation sequence but it's almost assuredly instantaneous from the POV of any character present at the time (or else she'd get whalloped by an akuma at some point)

his ideology of keeping Adrien with as little possible still happening even after he died

I do agree that Gabriel's last act was extremely villainous: he gaslit a young girl into deceiving the entire world. But this was never his goal. If there's a wild west shootout, and one guy ends up dead, and the other has emotional scars, I wouldn't say the dead guy won unless his goal was to leave emotional scars.

Gabriel hurting Adrien is incidental to his goals, not a goal itself. It is, in fact, arguably orthogonal to his goals! The show is trying to tell us Emilie was a good person (though I strongly disagree with that[1]), which means Gabriel should expect that his wife would hate how he's treated Adrien, meaning it can't be his ultimate goal, because "get Emilie back" and "hurt Adrien" are incompatible.

[1] The reason I disagree is that it's canon that she (1) kept him locked away with no friends for about twelve years; and (2) she literally never gave him a birthday present ever; and (3) she was apparently such a bad sister that when Amelie and Felix were being abused by Colt, Amelie never once thought her sister would take her in and protect her even though Gabriel had two extremely powerful magical artifacts at his disposal. Also (4) she thought Chloe Bourgeois was a good influence on Adrien.

“We didn’t know a lot about Monarch either but he still got bested.”

“That’s not true!”

Did anybody else think about the double meaning of this. The fact that he didn’t get bested. Monarch won. He just realized it wasn’t worth it in the final hour.

[miraculousdeservesbetter2024]

Dear show:

S2’s Maledictator: “Oh, it's not just her— actually, I don't even care about her— it's because I have no reason to be here: nobody likes me; I have no friends. I'm… useless.”

S5’s Derision: “Forgive me? What do I care about her forgiveness? I couldn't care less about Dupain-Cheng's feelings! She and the likes of her only exist to suffer for my entertainment. Why bother having power if you can't use it against those who don't have any?”.

…

[aspen-charminghearts]

Another Day in Chloe’s and Red’s Dorm:

Chloe: [Chilling outside their dorm talking to her friend briefly discussing the homework that Chloe’s friend had a small question about]

Red from the inside: [Scream of bloody murder and terror]

Chloe rushing inside, sword drawn, moving in front of Red to protect her from the threat she has yet to spot: What’s going on?! Are you okay love? Where’s the-

Chloe looking around the room and seeing nothing:

Chloe:

Chloe: Red?

Red, her hand already wrapped around Chloe’s free arm: Yes Bluely?

Chloe: Why did you scream?

Red: Oh, I just wanted attention! [Let’s go of Chloe’s arm to hugs her from behind]

Chloe:

Chloe: . . .

Chloe putting her sword back in her belt: [Heavy sigh in my-girlfriend-is-going-to-take-20-years-off-my-life-from-stress]

[krillonthegrill]

me waking up every morning knowing that i can appreciate every life is strange game in different ways

[batshaped]

vista

[isimarie2]

Army AU or Secret Task Force AU

Chloe an Red are Rivals

They work for a Organisation (their fathers worked there)

When they first meet their still realy young they meet because of their parents they like each other till one fatefull day

Christopher Charming was a legend at his job the best of the best and Reds Dad was his best friend who offten got in trouble and Christopher needed to save him a lot but they were the bestes of friends they were like brothers to each other

When Chloe was born he became like an uncel to her and the same with Red and Christopher

One day when Chloes and Reds Dads are on a Mission something horible happens Christopher got hurt and Reds Dad saved him he distracted the Enemy and Christopher could flee with his Team he beged that Reds Dad comes with him but he refuses so he can save the Team

the last thing Christopher hears from Reds dad is that it is better if he sacrefice himself than letting the whole team die and that he please takes care of his little heart

Christopher could not leave him but one look fom Reds Dad at his comrades that told them what to do got them moving and then they dragged Christopher away from him (he could not do anything because he was to injured to fight his teammates)

Forward to Reds Dads death Christopher was devestatet but he promised he would take care of Red he visited Red and Bridget often and played with Red and kind of neclected Chloe with it

Chloe began to despise Red and 2 years later her Dad died in a Mission and it became hate because half of the time he was with Red and not with his own daughter so she was jelouse that she didnt had that much time with him because of Red (they both are at that moment 8 years old)

Chloe and Red join the same Organisation at 20 were their dads worked at

They see each other for the first time in 12 years the last time was at Christophers funeral

They absolutly hate each other the first sec they see each other again

Red because she thinks Chloe got in only because of her Dad

and Chloe because of her Father and the time she lost because of Red

They are always bickering and always glare at one another you can literly cut the tension betwenn them and you know the Moment their in the same room because of it

Chloe one day gets promotet to a Captain (Team leader) position because she always ends her Missions with perfection and precision and because shes the perfect Team leader

She gets an Team with 7 persons on it and one of them is Red she hates it

Red gets placed in an secret task force because shes ruthles and gets all her Mission done with precision and fast you could say shes the best soldier they have there the only thing that anoyes her to no end is that Chloe is there and of course she is the f Team leader of the croup

They cant stand each other but still they completet all theyre Missions perfectly and efficient

till one day all goes harwire and their Team gets ambushed and they need to flee back to base

Red in the progress got shoot and even stabed in the Abdomen she powered trough it because it was nothing close to the abuse she gone through when her Father died her only relief was when her uncle Charming came to visit till the day it stoped forever and after that she gone through hell because of her mother

When theyre back at base Chloe looks at Red and thinks she looks like shit shes about to say something but then Red colapses to the cround barely alive

Chloe panics because she can barely feel Reds pulse

they rush her to the hospital and she gets brought to the operating room immediately they Operate for hours on her because she had damaged Organs and lost to much blood

Chloe staied in the hospital for all this time

Red survived but was in a coma for three days three days Chloe staied at the hospital and watched Red, three days she cries herself to slep on a chair becide Red and three days she came to understand what she feels for Red

When Red wakes up from the coma Chloe cries and hugs her Red to stuned to react just waited till Chloe stoped huging her

When she stoped she leant back and stared at Red a moment "I thought you would die Red and that i could never tell you that...." Chloe stops abruptly because she almost told Red that she loves her

But Red even under heavy pain meds gaught it "What do you want to tell me princess?" she asks

Chloe to flusterd at the nickname awnser to quickly "Nothing" witch a high pitcht voice

"Chloe it cant be that bad and even then im bound to this bed its not like i could jump out and kill you" Red Jokes

Chloe slowly breaths in and then whispers "im in love with you"

Red to stuned just stares at her and asks in a high voice "you what?"

Chloe to flustered just repeats her self lightly yelling "im in love with you you idiot"

Red finaly coming out of the stunned state shes in finaly awnsers to Chloes confession "you are more like an idiot.... and im in love with you to princess"

"WTF RED IM TELLING YOU MY......wait did did you just say that you love me to?" Chloe to flusterd in her state only got the first part till the second registerd in her brain

Red looks at her amused and anwsers with "yes princess i indeed did say that"

Chloe then looks at Red and leans slightly in and stops mere millimeter away from Reds lips to look if Red is against it she sees nothing but love in Reds eyes and then closes the cap betwenn them and kisses her softly

She accidently presses on Reds Abdomen and Red vinces from the pain

Chloe apologizes directly panict and then she hears Red gigle and her worry slips away

After that they come offiziell together and erveryone is extremly schocked about it when they find out moths later

they live happylie ever after and even become a daughter named Violett Grace and a son named Christopher-Redan like their dads

(lets pretent Reds Dads Name was Redan i didnt saw anyone who gave Reds dad a Name maibe because no one knows who he is so yea and im sorry if Redan is weard as a name)

[vex-00]

I know Chloe is a fan unfavorite but I don't think she's all that bad. I definitely would have made changes to the way her character was written and how she was introduced, though. She deserved better than FOP season 10 (；ω；)

[thetimelordbatgirl]

The portraits of younger heroes and villains in totally-not-EAH-and-SFGAE-rip-off Merlin Academy, if anyone's curious. And like, before anyone goes at me for that nickname for Merlin Academy: the villains group portrait literally has 'V.K students' under it, implying they themselves are children of villains, which just opens up the idea that these kids basically became evil like their parents before them and the only ones to not be evil are the prior Descendants main characters, aka, similar to main characters in EAH and SFGAE. At this point, Disney is losing their right to complain if EAH does ever return because the only one copying right now in Disney.

[tootiredtocares-blog]

Hazel is way more nicer and likable than timmy that and timmy is awful person this shut up why are you pitting two bad bitches against each other they would have been friends

[cowinf]

Weird Girls Go To Camp, version 4

These characters are from an old comic idea I had in high school. They've changed a lot over time lol

[chloepleasestopdying]

Wait no I have another dumb half thought out AU that I feel is kinda cringe: Chloe isn’t actually William and Joyce’s daughter, she’s actually William niece who he adopted because his half sister left her in their care.

Who is William’s half sister? Harley Quinn! William managed to escape his poor and abusive childhood, even moving across the country to do so. His younger half sister wasn’t so lucky.

This only comes out when Chloe and Max go on something of a crime spree. There’s no storm so the Prescott’s are out for blood due to the death of Nathan and Jefferson. Max doesn’t want to involve her parents (rightly fearing for their safety) but they’d needed money to survive. Between that and the mess they leave trying to defend themselves they’re one step down from Bonnie and Clyde.

They end up in Gotham, where 99% of crime sprees end, hoping that they can hide out there while trying to figure out what to do. However Max’s ability to rob banks/ stores is now perfected which draws the eye of Batman, who eventually finds Chloe’s DNA and finds out who her father is.

Honestly this AU is just an excuse for me to think how AWFUL Chloe would feel in this kind of scenario. Not only is William and Joyce not her parents but her blood parents are completely insane criminals (I picture this as taking place after Harley left the Joker but still) It’s for the womp.

[langfield]

the key tip to avoiding lis ship wars is just understanding that maybe love is a complex thing that can’t be confined to a label or a relationship and that people can love multiple people at once in different ways that are either the same intensity or not, and maybe that’s okay, maybe the love that feels calmer is just as much of a gift as the love that feels burning hot. maybe chloe loved rachel the way max loved chloe but maybe chloe has always loved max first ( messily, sometimes badly ) and that’s all that matters. maybe max will always love chloe but can also love other people as much as her ( safi, maybe amanda and / or vinh ) and that doesn’t inherently devalue what chloe and max had, or what max has with other people now. maybe max loved kate, maybe chloe now loves victoria, maybe max feels a cocktail mix of loathing and love for nathan fucking prescott of all people or something and that’s all interesting and valid. maybe there’s no labels for anything max feels, or chloe feels, or what rachel felt ( someone who canonically had multiple relationships, and someone who was accused of cheating by the fandom or not loving anyone at all because of it ), and maybe that’s infinitely more profound and beautiful than soulmate talk or endgame ship bullshit. idk! i just feel like lis dynamics are so, so fun and beautiful and are such a hoot to explore if you stop being so heteronormative about everything and just embrace the inherent humanity and queerness of these dynamics. some of them are toxic and that’s ok baby!!! and some of them are complicated and that’s sexy. maybe some of them are poly and maybe some of them are committing psychosexual crimes on each other via telepathy but who cares!! lets have fun in this bitch!!

[kikuism]

one more thing and then i'll shut up but i think it's so true that if there's no joy for the writer then there's no joy for the reader. you can just Tell when the author had fun writing, there's a vitality behind the prose that speaks to a genuine enthusiasm for the craft. even if the subject matter is dark, you can still tell if the author enjoyed writing or if they just didn't care. and for lady macbeth i just can't help but feel the latter. and i can tell bc i have read all their previous works and felt the Energy behind the beautiful prose. this one felt....so dull. i never felt like i was being pulled into the story because it kept me at such a distance. it seems to me like it was written without much enthusiasm. various elements were so shoddily put together too—the relationship with her new handmaiden and the monster romance 🙄 it felt so random, they were there just for the sake of being there. i really don't feel like the proper care and attention was put into crafting this book that i've felt in their previous works. there was no passion here

[lohstandfound]

what's wrong with the existing ship names why do we need new ones