#keep sending me asks everyone!

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

ok i know about several of these fics already but post-second-skin and also (carl anderson voice from the movie version of jcs) damned for alllllll tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime

Thanks for the ask!

(for this WIP ask game)

Damned for all time is a Kira/Winn ficlet set during the scene in Strange Bedfellows (I think?) where Kai Winn goes to Kira for advice bc she's just learned she's been hearing from the Pah-Wraiths not the Prophets! It was inspired by a prompt (your prompt lol) for the Sapphic Summer event. But maybe they also fuck or at least kiss a little? I'm currently struggling with this one bc of the word limit for the event being only 100-250 words lol, and I keep going over that when I try to write it, so I need to really refine the idea down to like the Essentials. No snippet right now bc it's so in flux, sorry

Post-Second Skin first time is a Garashir getting together fic in which Garak has big, big exile angst. <3 Garak also maaaaaybe (definitely) has some unhealthy ideas about sex because he's never really been with anyone except as part of a mission. There's also a mismatch in their mindsets because Garak does not let on at first how very angsty he is and at first Julian only sees the flirty front he's putting up. So Julian's just internally like wheeeee we're finally fucking yaaaay ^_^ <3, and Garak is internally like oh no I am a horrible person, I am clearly somehow deceiving him into wanting to be with me and I can't do that to the man I love (oh no, oh fuck, I love him so much) T_T, and that angst all reaches a breaking point, after which Julian comforts Garak. <3

Post-Second Skin first time snippet below the cut:

He’d been invited over to make up for the late snack they’d had to postpone last week when he’d brought Julian the news of Major Kira’s kidnapping by the Obsidian Order. He’d been to Cardassia and back since then and he felt… Well, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. 

Cardassia was the same as it had always been. The air tasted the same, the heat pressed against his scales like always. It was a little bit devastating that it was the same; his absence hadn’t mattered to anyone but him. 

And yet, it was also completely different. He was different now, exile having changed him in ways he hadn’t realized until confronted with his home again, and now everything that should have been familiar suddenly looked so strange to him. The difference had manifested in more obvious ways too, in that he had been, for the moment, working against the Obsidian Order to rescue a Bajoran soldier for a Federation commander. 

But all of that could have been forgiven, perhaps: he had been coerced after all. What was much less forgivable was how disconnected he’d felt, like there wasn’t a place for him here anymore. Like he could never go back. 

This station wasn’t home either. He knew that he was only allowed to stay because he’d made it a priority to make himself useful to the station’s new owners. It had been his idea in the first place to prove his value by helping out in the Tahna Los business, so he couldn’t begrudge the commander for putting him to use. He’d invited it. He’d auditioned for the role. A favor or two a year was usually an easy price to pay. 

But it had rattled him, to nearly be evicted just because he didn’t want to risk his life by breaking the terms of his exile. There was nowhere else for him to go that was far enough away from his enemies yet close enough that he could stay involved in Cardassian affairs. If he had to leave the station, he would never be able to prove himself to Tain or whoever else might be convinced to rescind his exile. 

And so as he sat here in Julian’s quarters, he wanted Julian to curl his arm around his waist and claim him as his own. He wanted this kind of thing often—and he was nearly certain that Julian wanted something more than friendship with him too—but he hadn’t dared get involved with him. Now, the usual longing was laced with something else, a desire for stability, a way to keep some measure of control on his life. If he were in a relationship with a Federation member—a senior officer on the station, no less—then he couldn’t be forced to leave so readily.

Garak swallowed. He could start something so easily. Julian would take him to bed if he asked, he was sure of it. And Garak would figure out how to please his alien body as quickly as he always had with his targets. He’d fill him or surround him or slide against him, do whatever he wanted, until Julian needed him, desperately. He’d make himself completely available to him, to use at his discretion. He’d give him so much pleasure and so selflessly that soon Julian wouldn’t be able to live without him, and would feel drawn to help him. 

Maybe Julian could even some day fall in love with him.

[milk-lover]

Sobbing uncontrollably reading through a dissertation about the college experience of students with ADHD. It is like reading a report about my life that just says over and over "My experiences are real. My hardships are real. I am not lazy, I am not dumb. My struggles were not my fault, and they were not a moral failing. The failure was with the system, not with me."

Here's a line that got me in particular:

"Hotez et al.(2022) compared the health, academic, and non-academic capacities of a nationally representative sample of U.S. first-year college students with ADHD and without ADHD. Students with ADHD self-reported lower academic aspirations and more feelings of depression and overwhelm, ranking themselves lower in their general emotional health. The fact that students with ADHD scored in the highest 10th percentile for many non-academic traits, such as artistic ability, computer skills, creativity, public speaking, social confidence, self-understanding and understanding of others, compassion, and risk-tasking, suggests that this population has strengths that are frequently underappreciated in academia."

(the paper is a thesis called "Understanding the Collegiate Experience for Students With ADHD" by Gia Long, 2022)

[lil-lemon-snails]

decided to draw some of your guys' tags from my harlequin sun and moon post!!! These guys are so much fun and you're all so funny >w<

[gigizetz]

🫡

OMG THAT`S GENUINELY SO BEAUTIFUL

o7 for dead X eye guy he shall never be forgotten

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[uhohdad]

TGWCTM looks sooooo good and I love your writing! I fear that I am a wimp tho and can't handle unhappy endings 🤣 I can enjoy a lot of angst as long as they live happily ever after. This isn't me asking you to write a happy ending just to clarify! You should write whatever you want haha! I am just wondering if you wouldn't mind spoiling the ending for me (if König and Reader both survive and get to be together specifically) so I know if I can read it or not. Feel free to answer this ask privately and/or wait until after you've posted the final chapter! I know you might want to keep it a secret until it's published haha. Thank you!!

⌜ KÖNIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

Hi!! Thank you so much for taking the time to send this! A few very kind people have asked me about whether or not this story has a happy ending but the asks had some spoilers about the most recent chapter so I didn’t post them just in case eep 😅

SPOILERS FOR THE UPCOMING FINAL TGWCTM CHAPTER BELOW!!

Yes!! TGWCTM will have a happy ending!! 🫡💕💖

It’s funny this story absolutely ran from me, the “original ending” I had planned was going to be incredibly angsty - (The Victor was supposed to be the final chapter) - but apparently I am too soft for all that. I kept crying so much while writing it, the only way I could make myself feel better was by continuing the story and giving them a happy ending 😅

… I will say, though, those two will absolutely have to earn their happy ending

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[aka-indulgence]

hey i don’t know a thing about this soundwave fella but i’ve followed you to a new man once (the dealer) and i’ll do it again

FOLLOW ME TO MORE Guys™ FRIENDS!!!!!!!!

[whatwooshkai]

URM checks notes NUMBER NINETEEN

"Oh." Chase stops walking, doorwings springing to attention. "I didn't realize we'd gone this far."

Blades turns around as soon as he realizes Chase has stopped, and jogs back over to meet him. "Wassup?" he asks around the silica wafers he's crunching on.

Chase frowns and takes a step away so he doesn't get any crumbs on him. "Don't talk while you're eating," he reflexively chastises, before gazing back up at the building he'd stopped in front of. "I just... I used to live here."

"Here?" Blades swallows and narrows his optics incredulously at the industrial building. It's not much of a home, gray and imposing with very few windows, but then again, the buildings like this scattered through the city were all he knew up until recently.

It's as home as he'll ever get, he supposes. But home is a place you're supposed to be able to return to, right?

"Well, that makes two of us," Blades says nonchalantly. "We didn't have any windows, though."

Chase turns to face him very slowly. Blades is usually so tight-lipped about his past, they all know next to nothing about his life before the academy. But he's opening up... because Chase is?

Oh, yes, that makes sense. Heatwave likes to do this too, right? Trading secrets. Tell me about you, and I'll tell you about me.

Chase can play this game.

"This was the last one," he continues softly, doorwings dropping a little, reflexively measuring the air currents around them. "Where I failed my final exams. I grew up in several facilities just like this around Iacon."

"Oh." Blades has one hand hovering, like he wants to touch Chase but isn't sure if he should. "How'd you fail?"

Blades isn't playing the game correctly. He's pushing further before he's giving back. Chase looks up at the building again, and suddenly feels a deep and oppressive longing for his batch.

But they're not in this building. They've moved on to a precinct by now, and likely have their own apartment or apartments. They're living their lives now. They're not here.

"I did well on my written exams," Chase says, mostly to distract himself. "But I kept failing my practical exams."

"How?"

Blades isn't playing right. This isn't fair, Chase is giving far too much and Blades is giving too little.

Chase stares at the building a little more, and feels an odd emotion swirling in his tanks. He's... angry?

He's angry. At this stupid building, at Ultra Magnus, at the enforcers, at Blades for asking questions.

"They said I was too strict on the law," Chase murmurs. His wings snap out when Blades steps closer, and thankfully he gets the message and keeps his distance.

"Well, I mean, I guess that's a little fair," Blades says, and Chase's finials pin back. "You have to make the punishment fit the crime. If something's unusually harsh-"

"No one should get away with any crime," Chase growls. "I agree, there is nuance to situation, but you have to penalize mechs." His wings ruffle.

Being angry is uncomfortable. It simmers under his plating and demands all his attention. He squeezes his hands into fists. "Including those in the administration. They kept asking questions, about what if it affected our jobs, or the way society works, or if it endangered those in power would it even be worth it?" Chase squeezes his optics shut, letting out a harsh vent and hoping the crawling feeling of needing to do something leaves with the air. "I was upset with the curriculum, so I tried to uncover the source."

"Oh." Blades' tone has turned dark, his field curious, and also frustrated. But he's doing something odd with it, as if trying to communicate that the anger is not focused on Chase. It isn't quite clear, but he appreciates it regardless. "Is that why they failed you?"

"No." Chase looks back up at the building. "They gave me one more chance after finding me looking into... them. But I was never allowed to be alone after that. But, my final exam..."

Chase shutters his optics again. Backtalking is not an enforcer trait! the voice of one of his instructors screams in his audials. You're nothing but an insolent little brat who thinks you're better than the rest of us-

"Chase?"

Chase vents harshly and shoves the memories away. Talking about it is good, right? Besides, it's all over.

They can't touch him now.

"I'm okay." Chase turns back to Blades. "They simulated someone breaking into the building and attacking us without telling us what was happening." He vents harshly again. "I thought he was going to kill my batchmates. He had taken a few down, and a vibroknife to one's neck, and it was just me pointing my gun at him.

"They were shouting at me to kill him." Chase blindly reaches out and Blades grabs his hand, squeezing it tight. "I tried to shoot his knee, incapacitate him so he could face justice. But... the gun was empty. They gave me an empty gun. And they were not happy with me."

Cohort above all else! the voice screams in his helm. You should NEVER risk your cohort for justice. If they threaten a life, take theirs.

But-

But NOTHING. This was your last chance. When push comes to shove, you've proven you're WEAK.

The enforcers do not tolerate weakness.

"Oh." Blades says. "And now you're here."

"I don't understand," Chase growls. "What I did was perfectly acceptable, even in regards to the curriculum-"

"Oh, Chase," Blades says, soft and almost mournful. Chase falls silent. "I think they just wanted you to follow orders."

"Oh."

Why can't you just follow orders?

"I don't want to keep talking about this," Chase says suddenly, pulling away from Blades.

"Yeah, of course," Blades says softly. "Let's go back."

"Right."

They've just started walking when an achingly familiar voice reaches Chase's audials. "Chase! Chase, is that you?"

Blades' optics narrow. "Is he one of your-"

"No. Just a friend." Chase takes a deep vent, steels his field into a neutral state, and turns to face the approaching mech.

Smokescreen scoops Chase up into a hug that's just a little too tight. "How're you doing, buddy?" he asks, cupping Chase's face. "Oh man, it's been too long! I heard you got shifted to the Rescue Bots, but man, I didn't think they'd put you through the works like this. I mean, the optics are cool, but they aren't, well, you."

"It is nice to see you too, Smokescreen," Chase murmurs, fluttering his wings to return the greeting Smokescreen's are flapping. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing great!" Smokescreen's wings flutters excitedly, and he moves his hands from Chase's face to his shoulders. "Your batch is doing good too, they're great kids." His face pulls into a frown. "I know the policies and you can't talk to them. But I thought you might like to know."

"Yes, that is... nice to hear." Chase's frame might be overheating.

"Oh, but who's this?" Smokescreen asks, gesturing to Blades with a wing.

"Blades," Blades introduces himself. He doesn't offer a hand, and has begun crunching on his silica wafers again. "A friend."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Smokescreen lets go of Chase and starts tapping on his comm. "Prowl's a few blocks over, I gotta tell him you're here! He'd love to see you!"

Chase's tanks drop to his pedes. "That really isn't necessary-"

"He's on his way." Smokescreen tucks his comm away and turns back to Chase with another grin. "But you're making friends! I'm real proud of you, kiddo," he admonishes, petting between his finials.

Blades is watching the two of them, tensed, like he's ready to fight at a moment's notice. Not for the first time, Chase wonders if he carries weapons.

Tires squeal as an enforcer rounds the corner, before transforming with a bounce and landing right in front of them. Prowl's face doesn't match his driving, nor his field, flitting with carefully contained excitement. "Chase," he says, with a soft and professional smile, "it's good to see you."

"It is good to see you too," Chase says, accepting and clasping Prowl's outstretched hands.

Prowl's gaze drifts behind Chase, and his optics widen a modicum. He's shocked. "Oh," he says. "Hello."

Blades field is tucked tight to his frame, but his rotors are flared in a clear show of hostility. Both Smokescreen and Prowl's wings drop into a position of do-not-worry-I-am-not-a-threat.

"Do you know him?" Chase asks Blades, now almost worrying about potential weapons on Blades' frame.

Blades doesn't answer. "We have met," Prowl says vaguely. "I am glad to see you are doing well."

Blades' rotors hike up higher. .:We should go. Now:.

.:Only if you tell me why:. Chase challenges. It's only fair, he thinks.

"We should probably go," Smokescreen says, but whether it's for a legitimate reason or he can sense the tension in the air is unclear. "We can't be seen slacking off."

He pushes past Prowl to rub his chevron to the crest of Chase's helm. "Keep out of trouble, alright? And don't be a stranger! They never said you couldn't talk to us."

"Of course," Chase says, letting Prowl rub his chevron against him next. He's pinged twice not a moment later.

Blades tugs insistently at a wing, which Chase flicks out of his grip. He turns to face him, wings flaring up in anger. "Why-"

"Alright, stay safe!" With another quick hug from Smokescreen, the two enforcers speed off together.

"Ugh, finally," Blades growls. "Let's go."

"I don't understand what your problem is," Chase says, flicking his wing to try and get rid of the phantom sensation of a hand on it. "And do not touch my wings ever again."

"Noted," Blades says. "Sorry. I didn't mean- I just wanted to get out of there."

"Why?"

"Because... they let one of them practice questioning with me," Blades says softly. "Regarding my brothers' murders. I'm sure he's nice, but..."

Chase patiently waits for Blades to continue, but he trails off into silence.

It's nothing compared to what Chase told him, but it's something. Brothers, interrogations, murder?

Chase doesn't like not knowing. But Blades likes not telling. So here they are, at a standstill.

"Okay," Chase says softly. He reaches for Blades' hand, and the helicopter takes it.

They walk home in silence.

[cutie-lumi]

ATTENTION BOOBA ENJOYERS!!!

i made an account to post BOOBA! it's @lumi-cherries

feel free to send me asks about femstars boobas and things like that! i'll be posting more suggestive content there as well, so if ur over 18 and wanna see some BOOBA art then follow me there😌💖 thats it thank u for ur attention

[blueskittlesart]

do you have any thoughts on zelda not staying as a dragon? me personally I like it and am very cool with it mostly because I think zelda should get to be happy forever (and because I'm smart enough to know she changed back because of recall and not some ambiguous power of love lmao) but a lot of people seem to dislike that it made the draconification inconsequential?

i think there's like. some valid concerns surrounding inconsequentiality/"curing" the physical problems characters have as a way of giving them a "happy ending" but I think those concerns don't necessarily apply to totk in the way people seem to be applying them, especially irt zelda's draconification and link's arm.

most of the time when the criticism of this "magic cure" trope is applied to media, it's because the trope is used as a cure-all to erase a character's suffering or trauma and make them "normal" again, and often ignores the character development or themes of the story in favor of giving the character a happy ending. I don't think that applies to totk, though, because the "curing" link and zelda experience is both within the realm of possibility given the worldbuilding present in the game (recall could easily have done it, as you mentioned) AND thematically consistent with the rest of the game. One of if not the most important central themes of totk is the idea of failure and second chances. we see a hyrule that has been given a second chance after link's initial failure with the calamity brought it to the brink of destruction. we see characters who were deeply unhappy and entrenched in the shame of their precalamity mistakes like purah and zelda become active, beloved members of their communities. we see the people of lurelin village take back and rebuild their destroyed home. we watch this kingdom and its people make an unprecedented comeback after a century of struggle and ruin.

Similarly, totk's gameplay is LINK's second chance, his comeback from the initial mistake of losing zelda, of specifically being unable to reach her with his injured hand when they fell. The consequences of that--the master sword's corruption, the loss of his arm, and zelda's draconification, are all supposed to SEEM irreversible, because that's how LINK initially sees them. he believes that he doomed both himself and zelda all because of that SINGLE moment in which he wasn't enough, a viewpoint which is obviously left over from the pressure he experienced to perform to an impossible standard of perfection pre-calamity. The story of totk is about deconstructing that belief and proving it wrong. the mistake he made caused harm, but it's never too late to repair things. he can fix the regional phenomena ganondorf causes and rebuild those communities. he can revitalize the master sword. he can GET ZELDA BACK, with his own arm, uninjured and able to reach her this time. no matter how impossible those things may initially seem, no matter the perceived finality of his mistakes and their consequences, there is always hope. there is always a second chance. no one person's single mistake can doom an entire kingdom for eternity. the fate of hyrule was NEVER resting on link's shoulders alone. he was never their final hope. there was always going to be an after. the whole POINT of the draconification and the loss of link's arm is that they AREN'T final. they ARE inconsequential, because they were born of one mistake and ONE MISTAKE IS NOT THE END ALL.

[tetzoro]

hiyaaa friendz ! it’s the last day of the year o: which feels ! wild !! but i am here to say that i’m very proud of all of us for making it through ଘ(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و !! 🤍

gentle reminder that while the new year is always good for new beginnings, remember to be kind with yourself as you go after your goals. some things won’t happen overnight but little by little, you’ll succeed. i know it !! i believe in you and i will be rooting for you always !! 🫂

may 2025 bring you inner peace + luck + happiness + so much love that it fills your heart to the very top ^_^ !!

[jojaxcola]

hey bestie!!! just wanted to say i absolutely love your art style! it’s gorgeous. do u have a main account where we can support more of your art? (i tried to find it but didn’t)

Thank you!! Right now I’m just posting on this blog and on my Reddit account (delightfulmochas). But thank you for asking!! I might set up a general art account in the future—if that happens I’ll post about it here!!

[phonification]

II16 SPOILERS!!

ITS THEORY TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

about the big reveals, to what extent is the show made by mephone? aside from all the contestants, what about the islands where the competitions took place? what about non contestants like the uninvitationals, ballpoint pen, spoiled lemon, springy, ect?

FOR STARTERS, the reveal that 3gs actually ended up getting one of the eggs and how the whole mission happened was AMAZING!!!! after that its most likely that cobs is using the egg as a source of energy to power things like Melife and the rest of his creations.

so like, we know mp4 was the first mephone after the egg discovery, so what if cobs tried harvesting its energy/soul into his latest creation at the time, mephone4, but since this was his first time doing it, he went overboard and gave him too much power? mabye thats where his "gift" comes from..? after mephone ran away, i guess he decided against killing him and put everything in place to watch how far mephones abilities went??

we know that mephone knew everything that he had to do to set up a reality show, most likely from all of the shows watched during his time at meeple.. so mabye he consciously knew that the show was made by him, its was HIS. but he had no idea to the EXTENT of the things he created. subconsciously, mabye his system/mind is in way part mecanic but powered by organic energy from the egg? or just specific parts function on that energy? because whatever energy/soul they got from the egg had an influence in the subconscious creation of the show, i have no idea where else the egg looking mountains from the shimmer home planet wouldve come from if it wasnt that LOL (and it could explain why mephone was affected by the wailing from the other shimmer egg back in hatching the plan and mepad wasnt)

id guess cobs learned how to calcute how much energy he had to put into the future mephones to balance out their abilities, said abilities given by the energy of the egg being stuff like mepads teleportation, melife, mephones portals, and maaabye the item generation thing?? (if mepad also had "shimmer energy" in my system, mabye he wasnt glitching because he doesnt have that much of a dosis of it??? GOD THIS IS CONFUSING SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE AUGH)

i have no idea what mephonex's deal is though. how the fuck is he doing that. all we know is that: he isnt physically there (i think), attacks via hallucinations and can uninanimate objects ...? i think it might be a weird thing with cobs messing with mephones head and it leaking into the other contestants???????? please give me your thoughts . im stumped . PLEASE

aside from that!! GOOD LORD THE FORESHADOWING WAS INSANE!! i think its really neat that cabby was most likely the most aware of her apparent memory loss, no one has actually realized up to this point unless its pointed out to them, I CANT WAIT FOR THE REST TO FIND OUT!!! IF THEY EVER LIVE TO HEAR IT!!!!!!!!

OH AND THE GLITCHES!!!

IM so hyped

[habibisagi]

i have. so many asks i need to answer

[softquietsteadylove]

Red and Green

Gil is glowering. He's been glowering almost since they arrived. He's happy to help, of course. Jack is in the winter play, and since Sersi is also teaching at his school, they've all come to help out with last minute decorating and such. He's baked five sheet pans worth of goodies for the bake sale taking place before and after the play.

Thena is on stage, helping Jack and a few other kids with putting fake snow everywhere. She's not exactly taking part but she's good at keeping them from throwing it on each other or anywhere unnecessary.

That's not the problem. The teacher talking to her is the problem.

Gil doesn't know who he is. Ben says he thinks he's the gym teacher or something. Seems a little young--aren't gym teachers always old dudes who don't actually play sports? This guy is their age, visibly handsome, even from a distance.

"You're a natural with them," the tall, blonde stranger insists.

Thena shakes her head, "I couldn't disagree more. I am here for Jack and no one else. The little hellions can fend for themselves."

She says, and then still decisively stops two boys close to the stairs from seeing what the fake snow tastes like.

"Well, I think you're a natural." Who does this guy think he is? He was moving some larger stuff around with Ikaris all afternoon. Apparently until Thena caught his eye and lured him away.

Gil rolls his eyes as Mister Blondie pulls off the fleece he's been wearing. His t-shirt gets pulled up a little with it, just enough for the stage lighting to really emphasize the full, washboard eight pack of abs he's got.

Phastos clears his throat loudly in Ben's ear. "Ahe-hem, Mister Stoss."

"Habibi, please," Ben attempts to lean away from his husband. "It is not a sin to have eyes, my love."

Gil sneers to himself. Thena has eyes. And while she wasn't openly admiring like Ben had - no matter how briefly - he knows she's seen them. He just...knows it.

"Gil?" Ikaris walks over to him, tugging at his own t-shirt now that boxes are moved or sets are arranged, or whatever they've been doing. "Wanna give us a hand?"

"Who is that guy?" Gil points blatantly at the man still chatting Thena up while she's trying to keep an eye on Jack and his friends.

Ikaris looks and shrugs. "Teacher."

Gil shakes his head at him. If Ikaris weren't both Thena's brother and Sersi's husband, sometimes he really wonders how they would have become friends. "Thanks, helpful--I meant how did he and Thena get to talking. She doesn't usually talk...with people."

It's not his most subtle tactic. But Ikaris doesn't seem to pick up on his greenish aura. "I heard him ask her a little about what she used to play. Guess they're talkin' about college sports?"

Gil's discomfort only increases, though. Thena did play sports when they were younger. He didn't. And he knows that she misses how she used to play soccer in high school and even in the first year of college.

His eyes are glued to them as Thena smiles and even laughs faintly as she talks to Whats-His-Face.

"What?" Ikaris asks him outright (no tact at all).

Gil huffs, deciding he's done just watching things unfold. "I don't think you'd like it if he was chatting up your wife."

Ikaris makes a face. "I guess not. But he's not. And Thena's not your wife."

Gil doesn't have a defense to that. He storms off so Ikaris can't announce to all the auditorium volunteers how flushed he is. Instead, he hurries up the little stairs onto the stage. "Uh, hey."

Thena stops dead in her conversation to smile at him, "hey."

He has to give it to him, if Mister Golden is bothered at all by the interruption, he doesn't let it show. "Hey, thanks again for helping out. The school doesn't have much to offer for things like these. Volunteering really goes a long way for the kids."

Gil tries not to scoff at Mister Perfect's magnanimous speech. He offers a stiff smile and hovers closer to Thena. "Yeah--I need Thena's help with the bake sale stuff, if you'll excuse us."

Thena lets him grasp her hand and all but pull her away. She only lingers enough to point over her shoulder, "Jack is in charge."

The other kids whine, but he's still riding the high of having all his 'cool' aunts and uncles help.

"Oh," Mister Friendly laughs faintly with a bright smile (and perfect teeth). "Well, it's already snowing out. You should stay warm inside."

Gil bristles as Mister Flirtatious' hand comes dangerously close to touching Thena's shoulder. He pulls her closer to him.

"I can give you a hand," he offers.

Gil is now borderline tugging Thena with him. "Thanks, but I need to, uh, ask her opinion on some things."

He wants to get right in the guy's face and tell him that of course he knows it's already snowing. He's not going to let Thena get cold! He rushes off the stage with her and makes sure to grab her coat off the back of one of the chairs. Maybe it's a bit obvious, but he loudly shakes it out and holds it up for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.

Mister Sunshine just smiles and waves before going back to watching the kids.

Gil sniffs. "He's friendly."

"Quite." It doesn't tell him what he wants it to. Usually Thena isn't warm to people just coming up and talking to her.

"What were you guys talking about?" he asks, realizing it's too late for him to be asking in a fake-casual way. He shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk out of the auditorium and head outside.

"He introduced himself as the physical education teacher," she states factually, which at least isn't the smitten fondness he was dreading hearing from her after their interaction. "He told me Jack is doing exceedingly well in his activities."

Of course that was his in; Thena is a sucker for talking about Jack, in any way, shape or form.

"Phastos is insistent Jack learn American football, but my practices with him have been paying off," she states with her nose all the way in the air with pride.

Gil laughs. Thena is determined to get Jack so hooked on it that he calls it football instead of the American 'soccer'. "It is a little less physical than football."

They get outside and Gil shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. Maybe it was dumb for him to get Thena's coat for her and not go looking for his own.

"Gil, aren't you cold?" she asks outright.

"It's okay, I just need a hand with a few of the trays," he excuses with a smile, unlocking his car from where they stand.

"What did you need my opinion on?"

Oh, right, the blatant and bold faced lie he told in order to soothe his own jealousy. What was he thinking? Ikaris was right, Thena isn't his wife--she's not even his girlfriend. But that never really bothered him so much as when he saw Mister Model up there chatting her up...showing off his abs to her.

"Gil?"

"Uh, well," he hesitates to get out as they step out from the school doors' cover and into the light evening snow. "I guess...do you think what I made will sell well?"

It's lame--it's super lame, and embarrassing. It's a bit late, isn't it? He's made a full dozen of five different desserts. Wouldn't he have asked this before he got so far into the process? And she and Jack were there when he baked them at Ben and Phastos'!

"Of course they will," she answers honestly, though. He likes the blunt and earnest realism on her more than Ikaris. "Your baking is always amazing. I'm sure the school will make back the cost of the play and then some."

"If they make the 'then some' I think I should get to keep the profit," he mutters. Thena laughs at his joke, but butter is expensive, and he's made three dozen different shortbreads! "Here."

He hands Thena a tray of the frosted cookies, which have to be separate from the rest to keep their design integrity pristine. He carries the other three trays himself and closes his trunk.

"It's nice that Jack is excited about it."

Gil smiles, some of his earlier agitation melting away. Thena, for all her insistence that she didn't like anything to do with children, lives for Jack. She loves coming to his school events, helping with parent stuff. He knows she's lied at her job so she can attend every single soccer game he has, even when they're at 4 in the afternoon on a tuesday.

"I didn't expect him to be so happy to have all of us here."

"Well sure," Gil chuckles, breathing a little easier now that it's just them. "Jack thinks you're the coolest aunt in the world. He's bragging to his friends right now about how you were a pro soccer player and know how to use swords."

Thena rolls her eyes modestly. "I keep telling him it's an amateur fencing class."

Calling it amateur is a disservice; Gil has witnessed a little of it giving her a ride once, and she dominates in it.

"I hope he never gets tired of having us around for things like this," she admits to him quietly, maybe even sheepishly. "Even when he's a teenager."

Gil smiles even wider, because Thena is just so sweet and loving under her calm and placid exterior. "I'm sure he won't. At least not you--maybe Uncle Ikaris."

Thena laughs, and it shows off her teeth in a cute way.

Gil shifts his load to open the door for her. He really didn't need help with anything, but he doesn't need to confront what it means that he was so desperate to get her out here with him just yet.

"There you two are, people are starting to arrive!"

"Sorry, just had to keep 'em nice and cold y'know," Gil murmurs as Sersi rushes forward to take Thena's tray for her. He sighs but Ikaris has some decency and extends his hands. Gil lets him take the top tray from him. "Are you sure I'm supposed to have this much real estate?"

Sersi waves a hand. "I've run this bake sale the last three years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you two parents at most will actually bring enough. Everyone else just brings a store bought cookie platter and lets it suffice. They don't sell well and they just take it home with them after the play."

"Gil will put them all to shame."

He blushes at the confidence Thena has in him. "If it's to help the kids put this play on again next year, then fine."

Ben has his phone out, snapping pictures. "They're gonna knock people's socks off, Gil."

"Thanks guys," he sighs as he unwraps his trays upon trays.

"They certainly look great!"

Gil's blood pressure spikes again. He turns and someone has let the golden retriever with a whistle around his neck out of the auditorium. "Thanks."

"Jack's been bragging about how his uncle is the best cook on the planet. I hope I can snag one for myself before the play!"

He's just being friendly, but Gil can feel his veins tightening under his skin with every word out of this guy's mouth. He looks at Ben, who's all excited and bouncing with his phone up. "What?"

Ben points.

Gil looks up, as does Thena. There's a pretty half-assed sprig of mistletoe hanging from the decorative archway put up over the table. He looks around; none of the other ones have this. He's ready to tell Ben to stop messing around. But then the presence of Mister Smiley and the memory of him flirting with Thena resurfaces in Gil's mind.

Thena's eyes go wide but she doesn't move as he pulls her closer. He slides his hand up her cheek, letting his palm angle and hide where their faces make contact, and not too briefly. Her eyes flutter closed.

Everyone's jaws drop (except Ben's).

Gil pulls away. He's kissed her close enough to her mouth that it will look the part, but not actually on her lips. But far away from her cheek that it can't be misconstrued from her view. He smiles as her eyes open again and she blinks at him.

He's never seen Thena blush before.

"You know I wouldn't kiss you without asking," he whispers before pulling himself away from her. "But, uh, come find me after the play is done?"

"H-Hm," she squeaks out, taking a few stiff steps away, her heels clicking like a fawn's hooves as it learns to walk.

Gil goes back to setting up his bake sale spread, some renewed vigour swirling in his chest. He peeks up from the table. Mister Perky seems to have gotten the hint and has started directing parents with trays to take the other (smaller) tables. Gil is satisfied.

Ben loudly snaps a picture, practically giggling. "Habibti, you're as red as the tinsel."

"Stop it! And delete that!"

Gil chuckles to himself as Thena rushes back into the auditorium and away from the commotion he's just caused. He does hope she comes find him after, and not just because he's her ride home.

Ikaris gives him a strange look but Sersi rushes him inside too. She leans back into Gil's view to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He blushes, but if Sersi thinks it was the right move then maybe he's onto something.

Gil takes a seat, ready to start selling. He has to admit that maybe he owes it to Mister Chatty to save him a brownie or something. But only if he gets to kiss Thena again later.