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#ml’s writing
buggachat · 5 months
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something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.
But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin
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westywallowing · 3 months
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my favorite scene redraw from S5E13: "Migration"
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clemnoir · 4 months
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coffee date
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anna-scribbles · 4 months
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thirteen_decemberLOADING.jpeg
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remmicreates · 7 months
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Actually might be in love with emonette
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iindigoeyed · 6 months
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saw this dress and purse and i KNEW i had to draw this, it's so her!!
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ladyofthenoodle · 6 months
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fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:
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So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!
To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.
She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo. 
So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.
Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.
Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.
She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.
Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.
When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.
Was he blushing?
Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—
He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.
Crash!
Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.
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“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’ 
She scowled at him.
“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.
Right.
Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.
And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.
She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”
Alya looked unconvinced.
“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”
“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”
Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.
Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.
Marinette took several deep breaths.
“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”
Adrien smiled and nodded.
Alya shoved her forward.
Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.
Her cheeks hurt.
“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”
Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”
His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—
Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”
Adrien blinked. 
“Bye!” She shooed him.
“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.
Nailed it.
“Girl, what the actual fuck?”
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How plausible sentence generators are changing the bullshit wars
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This Friday (September 8) at 10hPT/17hUK, I'm livestreaming "How To Dismantle the Internet" with Intelligence Squared.
On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.
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In my latest Locus Magazine column, "Plausible Sentence Generators," I describe how I unwittingly came to use – and even be impressed by – an AI chatbot – and what this means for a specialized, highly salient form of writing, namely, "bullshit":
https://locusmag.com/2023/09/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-plausible-sentence-generators/
Here's what happened: I got stranded at JFK due to heavy weather and an air-traffic control tower fire that locked down every westbound flight on the east coast. The American Airlines agent told me to try going standby the next morning, and advised that if I booked a hotel and saved my taxi receipts, I would get reimbursed when I got home to LA.
But when I got home, the airline's reps told me they would absolutely not reimburse me, that this was their policy, and they didn't care that their representative had promised they'd make me whole. This was so frustrating that I decided to take the airline to small claims court: I'm no lawyer, but I know that a contract takes place when an offer is made and accepted, and so I had a contract, and AA was violating it, and stiffing me for over $400.
The problem was that I didn't know anything about filing a small claim. I've been ripped off by lots of large American businesses, but none had pissed me off enough to sue – until American broke its contract with me.
So I googled it. I found a website that gave step-by-step instructions, starting with sending a "final demand" letter to the airline's business office. They offered to help me write the letter, and so I clicked and I typed and I wrote a pretty stern legal letter.
Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I have worked for a campaigning law-firm for over 20 years, and I've spent the same amount of time writing about the sins of the rich and powerful. I've seen a lot of threats, both those received by our clients and sent to me.
I've been threatened by everyone from Gwyneth Paltrow to Ralph Lauren to the Sacklers. I've been threatened by lawyers representing the billionaire who owned NSOG roup, the notoroious cyber arms-dealer. I even got a series of vicious, baseless threats from lawyers representing LAX's private terminal.
So I know a thing or two about writing a legal threat! I gave it a good effort and then submitted the form, and got a message asking me to wait for a minute or two. A couple minutes later, the form returned a new version of my letter, expanded and augmented. Now, my letter was a little scary – but this version was bowel-looseningly terrifying.
I had unwittingly used a chatbot. The website had fed my letter to a Large Language Model, likely ChatGPT, with a prompt like, "Make this into an aggressive, bullying legal threat." The chatbot obliged.
I don't think much of LLMs. After you get past the initial party trick of getting something like, "instructions for removing a grilled-cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible," the novelty wears thin:
https://www.emergentmind.com/posts/write-a-biblical-verse-in-the-style-of-the-king-james
Yes, science fiction magazines are inundated with LLM-written short stories, but the problem there isn't merely the overwhelming quantity of machine-generated stories – it's also that they suck. They're bad stories:
https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence
LLMs generate naturalistic prose. This is an impressive technical feat, and the details are genuinely fascinating. This series by Ben Levinstein is a must-read peek under the hood:
https://benlevinstein.substack.com/p/how-to-think-about-large-language
But "naturalistic prose" isn't necessarily good prose. A lot of naturalistic language is awful. In particular, legal documents are fucking terrible. Lawyers affect a stilted, stylized language that is both officious and obfuscated.
The LLM I accidentally used to rewrite my legal threat transmuted my own prose into something that reads like it was written by a $600/hour paralegal working for a $1500/hour partner at a white-show law-firm. As such, it sends a signal: "The person who commissioned this letter is so angry at you that they are willing to spend $600 to get you to cough up the $400 you owe them. Moreover, they are so well-resourced that they can afford to pursue this claim beyond any rational economic basis."
Let's be clear here: these kinds of lawyer letters aren't good writing; they're a highly specific form of bad writing. The point of this letter isn't to parse the text, it's to send a signal. If the letter was well-written, it wouldn't send the right signal. For the letter to work, it has to read like it was written by someone whose prose-sense was irreparably damaged by a legal education.
Here's the thing: the fact that an LLM can manufacture this once-expensive signal for free means that the signal's meaning will shortly change, forever. Once companies realize that this kind of letter can be generated on demand, it will cease to mean, "You are dealing with a furious, vindictive rich person." It will come to mean, "You are dealing with someone who knows how to type 'generate legal threat' into a search box."
Legal threat letters are in a class of language formally called "bullshit":
https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691122946/on-bullshit
LLMs may not be good at generating science fiction short stories, but they're excellent at generating bullshit. For example, a university prof friend of mine admits that they and all their colleagues are now writing grad student recommendation letters by feeding a few bullet points to an LLM, which inflates them with bullshit, adding puffery to swell those bullet points into lengthy paragraphs.
Naturally, the next stage is that profs on the receiving end of these recommendation letters will ask another LLM to summarize them by reducing them to a few bullet points. This is next-level bullshit: a few easily-grasped points are turned into a florid sheet of nonsense, which is then reconverted into a few bullet-points again, though these may only be tangentially related to the original.
What comes next? The reference letter becomes a useless signal. It goes from being a thing that a prof has to really believe in you to produce, whose mere existence is thus significant, to a thing that can be produced with the click of a button, and then it signifies nothing.
We've been through this before. It used to be that sending a letter to your legislative representative meant a lot. Then, automated internet forms produced by activists like me made it far easier to send those letters and lawmakers stopped taking them so seriously. So we created automatic dialers to let you phone your lawmakers, this being another once-powerful signal. Lowering the cost of making the phone call inevitably made the phone call mean less.
Today, we are in a war over signals. The actors and writers who've trudged through the heat-dome up and down the sidewalks in front of the studios in my neighborhood are sending a very powerful signal. The fact that they're fighting to prevent their industry from being enshittified by plausible sentence generators that can produce bullshit on demand makes their fight especially important.
Chatbots are the nuclear weapons of the bullshit wars. Want to generate 2,000 words of nonsense about "the first time I ate an egg," to run overtop of an omelet recipe you're hoping to make the number one Google result? ChatGPT has you covered. Want to generate fake complaints or fake positive reviews? The Stochastic Parrot will produce 'em all day long.
As I wrote for Locus: "None of this prose is good, none of it is really socially useful, but there’s demand for it. Ironically, the more bullshit there is, the more bullshit filters there are, and this requires still more bullshit to overcome it."
Meanwhile, AA still hasn't answered my letter, and to be honest, I'm so sick of bullshit I can't be bothered to sue them anymore. I suppose that's what they were counting on.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/07/govern-yourself-accordingly/#robolawyers
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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AU where Marinette came from China (like in the old movie storyboards) except she doesn't know a word of french, so the principal pairs her with Adrien because he knows Mandarin Chinese
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lc-holy · 2 months
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Conférence Masterclass 808 (Translation)
I've taken the liberty of translating the conference that took place last year with the writing director of Miraculous (Sébastien Thibaudeau). It was only made public when someone posted a video of the conference a short while ago.
In this conference, Sébastien Thibaudeau will talk about the creation of Miraculous and his work on the series. He is joined by Chloé Paye, a new scriptwriter working on Miraculous season 6.
Sébastien talks a lot and repeats himself a bit, so the summary can be a bit confusing.
I strongly advise you to go and listen to the video if you understand French. There are a lot of details I'm going to leave out, and Sébastien is very funny.
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Photo belongs to mlbfanfr on twitter.
Please be respectful in comments or tags. If you want to debate on things related to this conference, please make your own post. I apologize if there are any mistakes, I'm French and I'm not fluent in English.
-12 years ago, Sébastien arrived at Zagtoon, a studio that was just starting out and had yet to produce and broadcast any series. The producer (Jérémy Zag) and Sébastien hit it off and decided to start working together. Zag decides to give Sébastien total freedom over his projects. Sébastien then decides to put the spotlight on scriptwriters, because in this profession they are unfortunately poorly paid and never stay on the same projects.
So they produced a cartoon called Kobushi. A little-known series that did rather well, even if it didn't stay on the "Gulli" channel for long. The scriptwriters and producer were happy with the end result, as it was produced in a very short time.
Jeremy Zag then proposed another project, which he thought was quite good, but which he was unable to sell to broadcasters. At the time, the project was called "Ladybug". No one was interested, as the project was aimed more at an adult audience than a children's audience. Sébastien had to make sure that the project could be broadcast on Disney and TF1.
There was only a "trailer" also called "Ladybug" (but you'll find the video under the title Ladybug PV) animated by Toei animation. At the time, Sébastien had not yet been hired by Zagtoon. It was Jérémy Zag who convinced Toei animation to work with them (no mean feat, since Toei animation doesn't work with anyone).
So Sébastien started working with Thomas Astruc (the man who wrote and created the "Ladybug" project). At first, he didn't want to work on this project because he found it complicated. Thomas wanted to make a series for adults, but at the time, it was very complicated to make a cartoon for adults. What's more, they didn't have enough money to take on such a project. Sébastien finally agreed, but there were some changes to be made, which Thomas accepted.
-What Sébastien appreciated most in this project was the romantic comedy, the love square between the two main characters.
To meet the requirements of the cartoon industry, "Ladybug" had to be set in a neutral universe, in other words, in an imaginary country or the USA, but Zag, who loves Paris, declared that the cartoon had to be set in Paris.
In the end, Thomas Astruc's entire project was discarded, leaving only the love story between the two heroes and the city of Paris, where the story was to take place.
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-Sébastien explains how he writes Marinette's first dialogues: He says he talks a lot in real life, so he writes Marinette like him. She says out loud whatever she's thinking.
For Chat noir, he makes him tell his father's jokes. Something TF1 doesn't accept. The TV channel went so far as to refuse to validate the Bible (a collection of information on the series and episodes) until it had removed the sentence: “Chat noir makes jokes”. Sebastien has therefore removed the sentence, but will continue to make Chat noir tell jokes.
-The writing director's job is to get the producer, creator and broadcaster to agree. The series broadcast on TF1 and Disney are very different. TF1 wants series whose story can be told in a single episode, unlike Disney, which wants series whose story spans several episodes.
Sébastien and TF1 agree that Miraculous will be a series with one story per episode, a "Formula Show".
He cites the example of Dora the Explorer episodes, where every episode is the same: Dora goes on an adventure from point A to point B, she has to find 3 clues, then she meets Swiper, she sings a song to make Swiper go away, she uses the talking map to get from one place to another, then Dora manages to get to point B and the episode ends.
This episode format is used for children, to give them a reassuring framework, as they build themselves up through repetition. That's why series like Dora work so well with young children.
So Sebastien sold the Miraculous series to broadcasters as a formula show. A person gets angry, is akumatized, then marinette transforms into Ladybug then frees the person from the akumatization and… The End.
It's also for this reason that Marinette tries to confess her love for Adrien in every episode, but is unable to do so.
But he tried to go against what he had planned with TF1, by slipping little extra stories into certain episodes. Audiences were receptive to these slightly hidden stories. The TV channel even asked Sébastien if there really were hidden things in the series, but he denied everything. Thanks to the positive reception from the public, TF1 agreed to develop the characters of Marinette and Adrien and flesh out the universe a little more.
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-Once the bible is written, they have to write a script. But first Sébastien, as writing director, needs to know the mood of the series, and to do this he calls on Thomas Astruc, the series creator. Thomas is a great fan of classical painting. A single painting can tell a complex scene with lots of detail. He wants the episodes of miraculous to be like these paintings, there will be very few shots, but in a single shot a lot will happen.
-Sébastien explains that one of the things Thomas wanted to convey in the series was emotion. They didn't want to do what a lot of children's cartoons do, which is to beat the bad guys and win at the end of the episode. They wanted to tell kids that it's normal to have negative emotions. We can also become better people, learn from our mistakes and so on. It also reassures TV channels by setting up scenes that are repeated in every episode: people get angry, people akumatize then people deakumatize, end of episode...
Once the TV channels had been reassured, they set about writing a script.
-Sébastien asks Thomas to write the ending, as they're not sure the series will work. They also wondered what the aim of the series was, and what they wanted to say to the children. The two of them sat down in an office and wrote the ending, which turned out to be just the end of an arc. He even adds that now that they've written a lot more, it's important for them to write in advance so that everything is clear to them.
-The first season was written by 19 authors, from home. He found it interesting that the series was written by several different authors, even if some of them didn't quite understand the premise of the series. One episode that Sébastien particularly appreciated was written by two “autrices” (I think it's weird to say “two female authors”, so I'll use the French word): the refletkta episode, with the story of Juleka who couldn't get into the photos. (Note that all the episodes were proofread by Sébastien and Thomas).
After that, they kept a few people on to work together on the scripts for subsequent seasons.
Sébastien explains that he keeps a close eye on the production of the episodes, to make sure that everything that goes into the picture is as faithful as possible to what they've written in the script.
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-The kwamis exist thanks to Toei, who wanted funny little animals to sell plush toys. So the scriptwriters had to find a way to integrate kwamis into the story.
-(Again, Sébastien advises people to check out the Kobushi series if they can still watch it somewhere, or ask the leaker who leaked the whole of season 5 to give them the episodes (that's a joke, of course)).
-Sébastien talks about the Ikari gozen episode, which could have been a total failure because the storyboarder didn't fully understand the scenario. Sébastien asks Zag to redo the storyboard, which will add 10 weeks to the episode's deadline. The storyboarder admits that he's always done storyboards mechanically, without worrying whether the episode is good or not, whether the jokes are funny or not. Eventually, the episode was redone by the same storyboarder, resulting in the episode we all know today.
- They still have a lot to tell with Miraculous, to the point where they're wondering if they'll have enough seasons to tell everything they want to tell. Sebastien says there will be a season 6 and 7, and probably a season 8 and 9.
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- Chloé Paye met Sébastien when she was looking for an internship. She had never worked in animation, and knew nothing about Miraculous. She tells us how the scriptwriting team works. Each time, all the scriptwriters in the room have to be convinced of the script. They can sometimes spend hours on details to get everyone to agree.
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- The driving force behind the series is that there must always be a secret between Marinette and Adrien. The lovesquare can never be broken, otherwise there's no series. Sébastien knows that some people are worried about this. Will they continue the lovesquare for another 4 seasons or more? How will they evolve? Sébastien says not to worry, they know where they want to go.
-It takes them 14 to 16 months to produce an episode, but it's often much longer due to unforeseen circumstances. And they don't work on one episode at a time, but on several at the same time. One episode takes a long time because of the 3D animation.
One of the things that's complicated with Miraculous 3d animation is that they can only display 3 characters at a time on screen, whereas the series requires them to display many more characters. It's also very difficult to correct animation errors, as this takes a lot of time.
-The TV networks were very surprised by the success of miraculous. They didn't think adults and children alike would watch the series. The TV channels were a little confused because they usually make series for a specific age group, but since miraculous had people of all ages watching, they weren't sure what to do.
- Sébastien says he's very happy that miraculous inspires a lot of people to create things, like writing fanfiction, however he's not interested in it because he doesn't want to be influenced by certain fans who would love to see certain things in the series.
- Writing direction also means paying attention to how the characters speak. They all have their own way of speaking. For example, Adrien will never say "j’te parle", but rather "Je te parle".
- During the writing process, the writers sometimes act out scenes to make the dialogue more natural. This is what happened with the episode "Gang of secrets". They felt that, with the success of the show and the pressure it was generating, they needed to write something to relieve their stress. So they wrote about Marinette and the enormous pressure she was under to keep all her secrets. The final scene, in which Marinette tells Alya that she's Ladybug, came naturally when they performed it together.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months
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♡ chronicle #4 : welcome back ♡
wc : 5338
somehow, you've gotten used to living without your dragon man.
it shouldn't have been that hard to began with, you reason. since you'd only been living with him for a couple of weeks. you'd spent your whole life without this rude, bratty, infuriatingly handsome dragon guy. it really shouldn't have been hard.
you wake up to get ready for work feeling more tired than usual. this had been the case for the last two weeks now. you're lost at work, you've been really close to coming late more than once. you're coworker sachi has also asked if you were sick at least 5 times in one week, so you assume you don't exactly look your best right now.
you grab some leftovers from the fridge, hastily throwing them in the microwave to check up on your coffee. when you're done eating with the only background noise being the tv playing some game show reruns, you put your plate in the sink and remember a little too late that no one's there to clean them up for you anymore. you feel stupid, staring at the dishes like they'll suddenly wash themselves.
you'll wash them when you get back.
work goes by in a blur. you hardly remember what you did, who you'd talked to or what you had for lunch. the trip back home feels unfamiliar, like someone else was controlling your body for you. you don't mind as long as you can go home and sleep.
when you walk through your door, you check your couch reflexively, even though you've reminded yourself multiple times no one would be waiting there for you. the tv's turned off like it was when you'd left, there's nothing cooking on the stove, and there's no one on your couch.
despite reminding yourself.
you really need some sleep.
you order take out and eat while watching your favorite show for the 5000th time. it feels boring instead of comforting like it usually is, so you end up skipping a bunch of episodes straight to your favorite.
sometimes, you feel like it was all one big dream. falling in love with a dragon only for him to leave you seemed like something you could really only see in your own fantasy. but you know it isn't, because if it were you'd be able to forget about it. about him. but you can't.
it isn't painful, it doesn't feel like your heart is about to burst. it just feels so lonely. you feel like a part of you is missing, like a piece of your heart was filled to the brim with warmth only for that part to be taken away from you and leaving you cold and hollow. you don't like feeling like this. you shouldn't feel like this over someone you'd technically just met.
but it wasn't like that with him, it didn't feel like you'd just met. despite only living with him for a few weeks, you felt like you'd known him all your life. it was like you were catching up with an old friend the more you spoke to him. everything in you felt good with him. everything felt so right with him.
before you know it there are tears clouding your vision, you will yourself not to let them overflow. you hadn't cried since the day he left, you'd been distracting yourself with work not to. your favorite part of the episode comes up yet all you can do is focus on not bursting into tears. you can't go to bed feeling like shit since you've got work tomorrow. you decide to head to bed early tonight.
you'd like to think you can fool yourself into believing you've gotten used to living without katsuki. but unfortunately, you have to admit you aren't that good at lying to yourself when the first teardrop hits your pillow.
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katsuki feels incredibly wrong.
it's way past the time he's usually asleep, but despite tossing and turning he can't keep his eyes shut because every time he does he sees you.
you, with your stupid bright smile. you with your stupid puffed out cheeks and pout when you'd caught him nabbing your food too late. you with your bright eyes when you come back from work to see he's made your favorite.
and you, with your glossy wet eyes when he told you he was leaving.
he really needs some fuckin' sleep.
for the last two weeks, he's been telling himself that this was better for you—for you both. he knows he could never truly be good for you. no matter how well he'd learn to cook your favorite meal. no matter how many movies and tv shows you watch together. no matter how good it feels to be with you, you'll always be a human and he, a dragon.
you're different beings made for different lives. he wasn't raised for battle, but it is a primary part of the dragon code, especially in his faction. survival of the fittest and whatnot. you were made for office jobs and midnight take out and romance movies, not for anything he was.
his friends were more than happy to see he'd finally come back home. they had basically choke-slammed him to the ground to hug him, and he can't deny he felt really a little bit happy to see them again.
he'd expected his mom to nag his ear off like she usually does but he was more than shocked to feel her wrap her arms around him tightly. she had told him she was happy to see he hadn't caused any trouble for himself and he could hear the quiver in her voice and feel the slight shakiness in her tightly strung limbs. he hadn't said anything and simply quietly held her back. his father had joined the group hug soon after and katsuki closed his eyes, indulging in the warmth of his parents' love.
this is good. this feels nice. this is where he's supposed to be.
it felt nice at the time, he recalls. but it didn't feel right.
for the last two weeks, he's been trying to tell himself that despite how much he aches, how much he yearns for you, you aren't made for him.
unfortunately, besides admitedly being a horrible liar, katsuki will forever be a selfish dragon. he only focuses on what he wants, and he wants you more than anything. he needs you more than anything.
" fuck this.." he mutters, throwing and arm over his eyes. he starts absentmindedly rubbing at his hair, like you used to. but it doesn't feel as comforting, so he huffs again.
he'd been told he unfortunately couldn't do anything about the tournament, but on a better note the guy he faced off again would be disqualified from participating since he did end up getting something from a witch, like katsuki thought. kirishima had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and told him it was a good thing. but to be honest, katsuki had almost fully forgotten about that shitty tournament. his father told him there would always be a next one. the next one in ten years. the thought of not seeing you in that time crosses his mind at makes him feel like he swallowed something sour. there's a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought but he can do nothing but try to ignore it.
just as he's about to turn to the other side of his bed when a knock his door startles him. his mom walks in shortly after, opening the door halfway before walking in when she sees him awake.
" i didn't say you could come in." he grumbles half heartedly, sleep riddled voice slightly groggy. mitsuki simply sits on his bed near him, patting at his leg over the covers.
"m'not allowed to check up on my runaway son ? don't want you to leave again." she jests. katsuki knows she's joking, but he still feels a pang of guilt in his chest. he grumbles something unintelligible in response.
no words are exchanged for a moment, then mitsuki pats her son's leg a little harder, he snarls at her but she simply smiles at him.
"what do you say we go get some air ?"
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the night air feels good.
soaring through the sky feels comforting. feeling the way the wind rushes through his scales feels almost therapeutic to him. it can be thrilling to soar through the air the same way it can also be calming. it provides him serenity he can't quite put into words.
katsuki finds himself wishing he could fly like this with you like when he brought you back home from work. he remembers how you'd screamed your lungs out, clutched onto him so tightly and when you'd landed back home with wobbly legs and messy..everything, you'd proclaimed it was the first and last time you'd ever go for a dragon ride. he remembers how hard he laughed and he chuffs to himself unconsciously at the memory.
flying around when he was irritated or stressed wasn't uncommon for him but he only remembers a handful of times he'd went flying with his mother. other than the times he was younger and still learning how to get the hang of it. he has to admit that that feels good, too.
they decide to rest on a nearby mountain they saw in the horizon. as soon as they land katsuki changes back into his human form, stretching as he let's out a yawn. the only remaining traces of his dragon form being his red horns and scaley tail accompanied by large red wings. he hears his mom flap her wings behind him as she also let's out a little yawn of her own. she sits down onto the gravely bottom and katsuki raises a brow before taking a spot next to her.
it's quiet as they both silently stare at the moon. it's a little chilly out but katsuki doesn't mind much.
"so," mitsuki sighs, taking a large gulp of the fresh air " you gonna tell me what happened when you went on your little expedition?" she bumps her shoulder with his playfully, katsuki growls but doesn't snap back like he usually would.
he simply shrugs "it wasn't an expedition." he gulps, it feels like a knot grows in his throat. "it wasn't anything." he doesn't notice the way his hands are tightened into fists, but his mother does.
"that so ?" she utters. she speaks in a nurturing way. that soft tone that only a mother could use for her child. it upset him even more as the knot in his throat tightens.
"i.." katsuki starts "i was around a lot of humans.." he admits. his mother hums in response, urging him to continue. "saw a lot of things, tried a lot of human stuff."
"human stuff ?"
"human foods and desserts and stuff. and movies. they're people moving around acting inside a big box that they call a tv." he tries his best to explain it in the simplest way considering it took him a while to grasp the concept of electronics himself. he can tell his mother doesn't really understand, but he's thankful she simply nods and let's him continue.
"it wasn't too bad." he concedes. " i didn't wanna kill too many of them." he jokes, his mother chuckles in response.
"anything else happen ?" she asks with a smile. katsuki can already tell shes's onto him. screw this mother's intuition shit.
he opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing he wants to say seems to come out right.
"ma.." he starts, she hums " when you--how did it feel for you when you fell in love with pops ?"
her eyes widen at his question. she sits and thinks about it for a minute, then a smile grows on her face. " it's not something i can really explain. i just knew it when i saw him, i knew he was meant to be mine."
"even though he's a human..?" he mumbles quietly. his mother doesn't seem fazed, her dazed smile remains.
"yeah." she answers simply.
"it didn't bother you ?"
"nope." she immediatly answers, popping the p.
"it wasn't weird ?"
" it took a little gettin' used to." she hums "we're completely different after all. his family wasn't exactly on board with it. but they didn't say anythin' when i showed 'em my dragon form, i think they were just really amazed." she laughs at her own joke and katsuki fights an eyeroll.
"how'd you do it then ? how'd you..get used to it ?" he asks almost urgently.
her smile hasn't faltered since the beginning of the conversation. it seems to have gotten even wider and even brighter. " i didn't do anything. i loved your father, i still do." she sighs dreamily " when i was around him i didn't worry about anything. i didn't worry about what others thought to begin with, but i didn't worry about that. i wasn't scared of the future or anything."
"there was nothing for me to be worried about when i was around him. it always just felt like things would work out. we made each other happy, and when i was around him it all felt so.." she can't seem to find the right word to use but katsuki finds one for her immediatly.
"right ?" he finishes.
"yeah" she smiles, eyes softening as she looks at her son "yeah, it felt really right."
for the last two weeks, katsuki's been trying to deceive himself. by now he knows it isn't working. at all. he'd been trying to keep his mind quiet. he's been spending time with his friends and it's been nice. but there's clearly something missing. something he knows that his parents or his friends can fill, despite them caring so much for him. and he feels bad because he cares, he really does. but there's something he needs.
you're the one he needs.
"i think.." katsuki jumps a little when his mom speaks up again "i think there's somewhere you need to be, isn't there ?" she asks, though that knowing look she gives him clearly says she already knows the answer.
katsuki bites his lip, looking down towards the ground below. he can't see the bottom.
"i'm scared, ma.." he admits, meekly. mitsuki's heart squeezes at her little boy's heart showing in his eyes, scared of the unknown despite trying his best to convince himself he isn't.
his mother places her hand ontop of his and squeezes " i know, i know you are.." she comforts.
"w-what if it's too late and i messed shit up ?" she shakes her head, shushing him.
"you didn't, i know you didn't." she speaks carefully "if that person is the right one for you, then there's absolutely no way you have." she pulls him into a hug and he hugs her back tightly. no more words are exchanged as katsuki and his mother sit there. she pulls away and presses her forehead to his.
"you get goin' now, okay ?" she feels him nod after a moment and her smiles grows wider. she ruffles her son's hair and he grumbles, pushing at her arm and he fights off a smile.
he's sure, he knows what he needs to do now.
he gets up with vigor and stretches out his limbs and his wings as they flex and expand on his back. before he takes off though, he hears his mom call for him. he turns to look at her proud smiling face.
"you'd better come and visit !" she grinned, sharp fangs on display. katsuki smiles back at that, sharp grin rivaling hers.
" obviously !" he affirms, before taking off.
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you wake up like you'd had the best sleep in your life. probably because you cried yourself to sleep.
you're awake an hour earlier than you usually are and you can't seem to get back to sleep. so bitterly, you decide to just get up and start your day an hour early.
you're definitely not getting ready for work at this hour, so your hello- kitty jammies are staying on. you remember you have a half eaten tub of vanilla-caramel-brownie ice cream in the freezer and it makes you a little happier. you walk over to your fridge with a little skip in your step.
when you sit down on your couch and turn your tv on you can already see the sun rising from your balcony. and it makes you dread having to go to work in an hour and a few minutes, you do your best to ignore it and watch a rerun of some old drama tv show you found.
you take your first bite and hum to yourself happily. the ice cream melts on your tongue and the flavours burst onto your tastes buds. if you could you'd eat ice cream every single day.
but katsuki would scold you for it.
it feels a little harder to swallow down your next bite.
the female and male lead on the show are arguing about something. the man says he only has eyes for the lady. he says that it's always been her, that if he were reborn in another life, in another country, he would still always find his way back to her.
you quietly keep watching, taking smaller and smaller scoops of ice cream. the lady is doubtful, she asks the male how she knows he won't break her heart. he responds that she only needs to trust him, that she needs trust herself.
"what is your heart telling you right now ?" he asks.
"it's telling me.." there's a dramatic pause " that i love you..!" she declares.
the two share a hug and an old ending song plays, you can hear an audience clapping like you sometimes do in old sitcoms. you really wish you could go back to sleep when you check your phone and see that only twenty minutes have passed. you wonder if you can call in sick as you play around with your ice cream, but you draw the line at that. that'd be too childish and you're too grown to be faking sick just because you got your heart broken.
you switch through a couple of channels before you land on an animal documentary. it's about red panda's and red panda's are adorable, so you shuffle on your couch to get comfortable and scoop up another big bite of ice cream.
the moment you bring your spoon to your lips though, you suddenly feel a big gust of wind. accompanied by a loud crash. and a giant hole through your fucking wall.
your spoon stays frozen against your lips, it's cold but you can barely feel it. slowly, you turn to look at something coming out of the cloud of smoke caused by the debris.
or no, it's a someone. you can see them stand up straighter as huge wings stretch on their back along with huge pointy horns and—actually maybe it is a something after all.
except you squint and you realise that it isn't a something.
it's katsuki.
it's katsuki and he's looking at you, bright red eyes focused solely on yours. he's here, he's here with you.
and he's once again blasted a hole through your wall.
you almost want to laugh, but you're afraid if you do you'll start crying. so you simply stare at him. he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth
“hi..” he exhales.
he’s heaving, taking in the force at which your wall was blasted into pieces one could assume it was probably because he was flying really fast, and he was. but this wasn’t really going all out for him. frankly, katsuki bakugou is heaving because he’s so incredibly nervous.
“h-hi..” you utter back, wide eyed. katsuki zones in on something on your face and furrows his brows.
“you’re eating that cold shit that early in the morning ? you’ll get sick.” he chides. this time you do laugh, because he’s so insanely ridiculous, how could you not.
“yeah well, no one was here to stop me so..” he knows the other meaning to your joke very well and his heart hurts at the sadness in your eyes when you fully realize he’s actually here.
“why did you—i thought you had to go home ?” you stutter. he takes a hesitant step towards your couch, towards you. his hand twitches, wanting to reach out to you, to touch you, but he holds back for now.
“yeah i did.” he nods “so here i am.”
your heart feels like it’s beating while being held down under a huge weight. you want to do so many things. you want to cry, ask him so many questions and kiss his mouth off but you can only bring yourself to ask “why ?”
katsuki frowns at the way your bottom lip wobbles and he immediately decides he can’t have that. he walks up to you and grabs your hand to pull you towards him, you stand up with a squeal as he pulls you into him. you’re ice cream long forgotten as neither of you notice the tub hitting the floor.
right now you’re only focused on him and he on you.
“i-i tried to tell myself that i didn’t need you at first, that it was better if i didn’t. we both know we’re—more than completely different,” he chuckles humorlessly. “tried telling myself that i didn’t need you because i didn’t need you my entire life, so why should meeting you, a human, change anything ?”
"but then—i don’t know, i realized that i’d spent so much time with you and your normal human life. with your weird habits and routines and your cheesy animal love stories. and then suddenly i just—" he stops himself mid rambling, he’s still heaving and he can’t seem to calm down. until you reach up and place your hand in his hair.
in seconds it’s feels like he can breathe again. your hands in his hair feel like taking a flight in the dead of night. your entire being is like the way it feels when the wind rushes through his scales.
he needs you, he needs you, he needs you, he needs you and he needs you so bad.
he plops his head against your shoulder and you hear the purring sound from when you’d first pet him in your office building. when you didn’t really know why you did, and that it just felt right to.
“suddenly i realized that i couldn’t be without you. i couldn’t see myself without you and your stupid smug face whenever you’re being a smart ass. without you and your weird taste in movies and your hands in my hair and your smile and—" he cuts himself off again. seemingly realizing he’d said too much. you don’t want to embarrass him too much too soon so you hold back the giggle bubbling up in your throat.
“i thought you liked my taste in movies.” you joke, playing with the hair on his nape. you feel him huff a chuckle against your shoulder.
“never said i didn’t like it. said it’s weird.”
“is there really a difference?” you snort.
“hell yeah there is,” he retorts “ya go from watchin’ that weird demon cat on your phone to watching the conjuring in the same breath.”
“ that just means i'm open to a lot of genres, it’s a good thing !” he snorts then grumbles some kind of agreement under his breath “and don’t you insult hello kitty like that ! she’s done nothing to be classified as a ‘demon cat’.”
“ it’s fuckin’ weird. why doesn’t it have a mouth ? and why are it’s black beady eyes starin’ into my fuckin’ soul ?”
“ quit calling her 'it' ? and she’s adorable !”
“she’s freaky is what she is.” you groan.
"you're insufferable. so incredibly annoying." you grumble in defeat. he lifts his head up to look at you then, his award winning cheese on display with a tiny fang poking out.
"yeah, maybe..but you missed me." he counters. you huff, but you really can't lie "yeah, yeah i did" you say. it comes out sadder than you'd wanted it to, and he seems to notice it. his eyebrows furrow and the remorseful look on his face makes your heart burn. your expression mirrors his as you speak.
"i really did miss you, katsuki. i really did." you whisper sorrowfully. you feel him wipe the tears you didn't even know where about to spill from the corner of your eyes. he grabs your cheeks in both of his large hands and wipes at your eyes, then rubs at your cheeks softly. his eyes burn with unspoken words and feelings and you don't need to hear him say anything to understand. you understand him better than anyone. human or dragon.
and that's all you need.
"i know." he leans in until you're inches away and your eyes flutter closed when he nuzzles his nose against your tenderly. he places his forehead against yours in a way you can only describe as loving. "i know." he whispers again.
"but i won't leave again. i promise." he vows, rubbing his nose against your cheek. the gesture feels very animal like and you giggle a little. he huffs against your cheek in amusement. "you're mine, you've always been. i know that—i'm sure of it now." he corrects "so i'm not goin' anywhere." he's so close. just like that night.
you want to let go, want to give yourself to him and trust him but there's something holding you back. katsuki can tell you're doubtful. he nudges his head against your softly, "talk to me." he urges.
"i just..i'm scared.." you admit "what if things don't work out ? i really, really like you katsuki." your voice trembles and your bottom lip wobbles the slightest bit "i don't want you to go away again.." he shakes his head adamntly, his hair tickles against your forehead. he breathes a sigh and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes properly.
"i don't know how the future will turn out, or what's gonna happen." he knocks his forehead against yours again "but that doesn't scare me. mostly cus i'm not scared of anything," you roll your eyes but you can't help the chuckle that rips out of you. he smiles, obviously proud of his joke.
"but also because i know you're it for me. no matter what happens, i trust that i'll always come back to you." he seems to realize he's been awfully out of character. a cute blush grows on his face but that doesn't deter him in the slightest, as his eyes stay fixed on you. it makes chills run down your spine.
"you..were made for me. that's all i need." he closes his eyes, embarrasment catching up to him. you smile at how adorable your cranky dragon man could be when he wanted to be.
that's all he needs. you're all he needs. the thought fills your body with so much warmth and love.
you bring your hands up to his cheeks. he opens his eyes. looking down at you with half lidded eyes and so much affection it makes you giddy.
"what is your heart telling you right now ?"
you smile up at him, a watery giggle slips past your lips.
" i love you."
you trust yourself. you trust katsuki. you trust your love for him.
his eyes widen. and suddenly he's leaning down and all he gives you as a warning is a breathy whisper of your name. you don't think twice when you nod your head fervently and then he's closing the distance and kissing you.
in a second it's like you feel whole. it's like he breathes life into you with the kiss he presses onto your lips. and the next one, and the one after that.
he pulls back to catch his breath for no less than three seconds before he's stealing yours away again. but you don't mind in the slightest. you'd give all of yourself up willingly to him. you wish you could stay close with him, holding onto him like this forever.
but then there's a sudden sharp pain in your lip.
"ouch !" you yelp. katsuki immediatly pulls back, eyes racking over your face until he notices red on your lip. you lick at your bottom lip and taste blood. you look up at him, a mix of amusement and suprise on your features. after a second, you let out a chuckle.
"guess you missed me lots, huh ?" you laugh some more when he growls at you. trying his best to seem somewhat intimidating despite the state he's in. he's breathing heavy and he's sweating a little bit, cheeks fully red.
"b-be quiet, human." he leans down and licks the blood off your lip. it flusters you despite him meaning it innocently, dragons are way more direct when it comes to physical affection, it seemed. "i'll roast you alive."
"no you won't, liar." you answer arrogantly. you bring your arms to rest around his neck, your hands play around with the hair on his nape. "you like me too much."
"you're gettin' real cocky, aren't ya ?"
"am i wrong ?" you counter. he narrows his eyes at your challenge but lowers his head in defeat soon after. he shakes his head with a chuckle. "no, guess you're not." he concedes.
"you guess ?" you tease.
"don't push your luck, loser." he nips at your nose, and you giggle. he snarls at you when you tug at his horn, but he can't hide the smile on his face.
"i—uh." he looks away, off to the side towards your tv "love. you. too..or whatever you humans say.." he confesses shyly. too much direct eye contact for one day, it seems. you giggle, then lean in and press a sweet kiss to his lips. it takes him a second before he eases into it. slowly, just as passionately as the first time, but you both know there's no rush to let each other know how you feel. you've got all the time in the world together.
"i'm glad.." you say once you pull away. "so, can i assume that means you're back now?" you joke.
"i told you i'm not goin' nowhere. you're mine." he asserts " i'm back." he states with a fanged grin.
you smile wider at his words. you're smiling so hard your cheeks start to hurt but you really don't mind "welcome back." you answer lovingly.
this feels right. this feels like where you both belong. he's back.
back where he belongs.
you pat his nape "to make yourself back at home, you can make me breakfast !" you chirp. "you owe me at least twenty five homemade dinners too, so you'd better get to work." you laugh out loud when he pokes at your side with one hand, with the one on your face squeezing your cheeks out.
"cheeky brat, already puttin' me to work, hah ?!" he grins "i guess i do owe you dinner though, but definetly not fuckin' twenty five of 'em !" you both laugh at each other some more and you wish all of your days with him here could feel like this. but even if they don't, you're not worried. as long as you're together, you know everything will be okay. you trust that with all your heart.
"katsuki ?" you start after a moment. he hums in response, urging you to continue while he nibbles and presses smooches on your shoulder. you smile, you're so incredibly happy.
"fix up my damn wall, would you ?"
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and here it is yall, the final chapter ! thank you all sooooo much for the overwhelming amount of love for this silly lil series. i couldn't be happier that you guys liked this fic just as much as i did writing it ! and i hope this ending makes yall happy (cuz some of yall were losin it last chap LOLOLOL) take this super fluffy ending as an apology for that then !! much luvv <333
taglist ! : @sikuthealien @rosemarygalaxy @guccirosegold @queenpiranhadon @k0z3me @katsuisbaby @lovra974 @katsus-mistress @briokayama @sixxze @lupikekee @nymphsdomain @berryvioo @roboticsuccubus83 @yao-ai @haruesme @omayrac @raatass @touyasprettydoll
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diadraws · 10 months
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RIP BOZO 🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀
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clemnoir · 4 months
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loveybug to celebrate almost being done with finals 🥳🥳
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anna-scribbles · 7 months
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calling all miraculous fans who watched anime in middle school
PLEASE tell me what you think adrien’s favorite anime is. bonus points for characters you think he would relate to / want to be friends with
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mostmagical · 4 months
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was in desperate need of some serotonin today, so here's some quick post-reveal bed-sharing
Words: 1K+ Summary:
Marinette wakes up to a bump in the night. It’s her boyfriend (and not in the way you’d think).
Thump.
The sound tore Marinette from her sleep. She shot straight up in bed, frantically scanning the area for danger. With a start, she realized she wasn’t in her room. Memories were returning slowly as she recalled deciding with Adrien to spend the night at his for once, both too tired after the long day to trek the extra few blocks to hers.
She gasped— Adrien. Her hand patted down the area to her immediate left, seeking his warmth where she was used to finding it. A steady rhythm from her heart beat against her rib cage as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.
“Oof,” a soft sigh breathed from the floor.
Marinette was leaning over the edge in a flash, finding her boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.
“Adrien!” she gasped. “What happened? What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered to hers, bright even in the dark, and he chuckled. “I think” —his hand moved to massage his side, low by his hip— “it was a well-timed kick to my side.”
Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”
He laughed again, pulling himself back onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “What kind of dream were you having, Buginette?” he asked. “Must have been pretty intense.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against his chest so she could continue looking into his face. Mirth danced through his green eyes. “Are you implying that I kicked you out of the bed?” she asked disbelievingly. “Why are you so calm about it?”
“Oh. It’s not the first time.”
“What?”
Adrien shrugged. “Well, usually, when we’re at your place, I just kinda end up pushed against the wall? The loft has that nice built-in baby gate, lucky for me. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen out.”
Her jaw dropped open. This was mortifying information to receive in the middle of the night. “Adrien,” she said sternly, taking his shoulders in her hands and staring intensely into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me I kick you every night?”
“It’s not every night,” he replied dismissively. She gave him a look. “Okay, it is most nights, but still! Not every night!”
“I don’t care how often it is!” She shook his shoulders, his body pliantly rocking back and forth with her movements. “Why wouldn’t you tell me so I can stop? I must be ruining your sleep!”
“I don’t mind.” He smiled, the picture of innocence. “I think it’s cute.”
Marinette wanted to growl, but she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as she wanted it to with the red she could feel all over her face. She groaned, dragging her hands down her cheeks until the skin stretched. “What’s wrong with you?”
Again, Adrien gathered her in his arms, this time with Marinette accepting the embrace. She curled up against his chest as she felt him press a delicate kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s an honor to be your punching bag,” he joked.
“Adrien,” she groaned, thunking her head against his shoulder, “shut up.”
“Sorry.”
“Wait, no, that makes me feel worse,” she hastened to say. “I need to apologize to you! I’m sorry.”
He chuckled again, his warm breath tickling her forehead as it passed through her hair. “Like I said, I really, really don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you mind?” She pouted, tilting her head up to look at him. “Doesn’t it wake you up?”
“Sometimes, yeah, but–” He sighed as he seemed to look for the right words. His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I like knowing you’re still there with me.”
All the embarrassment drained out of her as she noticed his tone change. “Do you think I would go somewhere?”
“Technically, no,” he answered honestly, “but sometimes… in the back of my mind…”
She frowned. “You get anxious.”
He took in a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Marinette wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his worn cotton t-shirt. He smelled of citrus and the fresh linen scent of her Maman’s favorite laundry detergent, making her smile. He smelled of home.
“I’d never leave you, Adrien,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Especially not in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “I know.” His arms tightened around her as he laid their bodies back down against the pillows. “We’re a package deal. A bonded pair.”
“Exactly,” she huffed. Leaning up on one arm, she poked him in the chest. “But you really should have told me I was kicking you in my sleep. I feel like a jerk.”
“A cute jerk.”
“Stop calling it cute!”
He waggled his eyebrows as he grinned at her. “It’s not my fault that everything you do is cute.”
She growled frustratedly. She wanted to be angry, but instead she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so annoying.”
“Annoying and cute?”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned back onto his chest. “Yes,” she huffed.
Adrien laughed again, the sound reverberating in her eardrum. She loved the quiet moments like this where she could hear everything— his laugh, his breaths, his heart beating in his chest. The arm wrapped around his middle tugged him closer, and in response he squeezed her tighter against him.
“Seriously,” she mumbled, “wake me up next time. I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he whispered back. She opened her mouth in protest, but he spoke again before she could, “Sometimes it’s just a little nudge. Like this:” His foot connected with her shin under the blankets, gently pushing against her with featherlight pressure.
“Oh.”
“See? Nothing.”
“But–”
“And the kicking,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say, as always, “I don’t mind, because I can always tell when you’re having a dream. And I like knowing that.” His thumb was brushing over the exposed skin on her shoulder, lulling her back towards sleep.
Against the siren song, she shook her head. “Still, if you ever want to wake me up– even just to talk, I want you to wake me up,” she whispered.
“Now, I know that’s sleep-Marinette talking.”
She would have rolled her eyes if she thought he could see it. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “I mean it. I’d gladly lose a couple hours’ sleep for you.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Especially knowing you would for me.”
“I would. Anytime.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips brushing her scalp, “I’ll try not to let you attack me inexorably again.” She heard him breathe deeply, his chest expanding beneath her head.
“You’re lucky I’m so tired right now, kitty cat,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut.
“Yeah, I really am. I love you."
"Love you too..." she managed before sleep pulled her back in, warm in Adrien’s arms.
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zoe-oneesama · 3 months
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Chloe had potential for a redemption arch her finding the bee miraculous could've set her on a path where she could have shown more debth a softer side. But they doubled down and i too mourn the loss of potential but chloe as she is in canon doesnt deserve shit
I will concede that the puzzle pieces for a possible Redemption Arc are in the show - abuse mom and over indulgent dad make for a very clear picture of why Chloe is the way she is, and then a huge dynamic shift by introducing super powers into the mix could've been a good starting point for...something. I agree there's potential here.
But what happened in canon wasn't Chloe making changes, it was the people around her changing how they looked at her (as well as the audience). Chloe didn't change herself and the pity she garnered just made her even more entitled when the characters started making more concessions for her, like giving her a Miraculous or throwing her a party or not punishing her for ruining a birthday gift, etc.
I'll agree with people mourning the wasted potential, but I disagree with people who think Chloe's Redemption Arc was active in the show and then ruined, because I don't think it ever started.
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