crossover queen

cousins who talk shit together, stay together!
,,,
guess who has a new crack headcanon lmfao?? uhm
+ imagine Chloe speaking fluidly in Russian????? YES PLEASE

anyway what i have in mind is that Yuri would visit Chloe when they were smol and Chloe would inevitably be so eager to be with Yuri that she would accidentally leave Adrien behind, thus making smol Adrien feel lonely and kinda jealous?? also like… Yuri was hard to get along with sooo yep now they have this weird rivalry going on and Chloe is Living For It™ until it becomes too ridiculous lmao


btw if u hate chloe bourgeois but love yuri plisetsky, u owe me 5 bucks sorry i dont make the rules lmao

Bonus:

guess the bee kwami got the wrong blond brat :v

3

FAN ART DUMP 1/3 !!
Ok, i’ll explain first why there are still parts to this dump right here. Alright, for a long time I’ve been hoping to get noticed by my idol artist here aaand today, My friends encouraged me to post the fan art I’ve made for them. I’ll be honest, Im still VERY NERVOUS about posting these;; (Especially because one of the fan piece here is a crossover between my comic and theirs, idk if they’ll allow it or anything;;) I will post the rest of the fan art i’ve made for them IF they are ok with it (because theres this mini fan version i made of their comic, the Kid n Leviathan thign, AGAIn being a crossover between mine)
So yeah, i’m still nervous here, but I hope they like this and;;;i hope they would like to see the rest of the fan illustrations i’ve made for them;;
This Fan dump is fooooor –> @z-t00n
Chris, Betty, and Aiden belong to them, and Pish belongs to me !
Im still shaking//

Mabel Pines vs. The Laws of Narrative Causality

[Ao3]

Once upon a time there was a man who loved his family so much that he lost them, and then he lost himself.

Once upon a time there was a man who was so frightened to admit how much his family mattered to him that he refused to accept it until it was too late, and he spent the rest of his life regretting it.

Once upon a time there was a boy who loved mysteries until he grew into a man who dreaded them.

Once upon a time there was a girl, and then she turned into a woman and was never happy again.

This is the story you’re in, said a voice in her head. You chose this. You chose to leave your paradise and grow up. This is what growing up is. It’s losing people. It’s having your heart broken. It’s watching the things you love fall apart. This is what’s supposed to happen. It’s supposed to be poetic and tragic. This is how the world works.

They stood there in the clearing: the old man writing his own Greek tragedy in his head clinging to the man with nothing in his head at all. The boy whose head was full of conspiracy theories and bad ends.

And Mabel Pines.

She could feel the shape of the story building like a wave, trying to wash her and her family away with it. She could feel the tragedy trying to sink its fingers into them, trying to tell her that the old men would only ever be a cautionary tale, that she and her brother would only ever be a tragedy waiting to happen. It was the shape of every story they read at school, stories that were supposed to be important and serious but only ever felt sad.

(“Why don’t we read books where good things happen?” she’d demanded, and her teacher had smiled and said, “That’s just not realistic, dear.”)

She’d chosen reality. She should have known what that meant. She’d chosen the end of childhood, the end of innocence and happiness and hope. It was time to grow up. Time to accept what a realistic life looked like. Time to accept that you couldn’t save the world without losing something just as important. Time to—

No.

Here is a fact about Mabel Pines: she is selfish. She is the sort of selfish that makes her stand up against the things that try to break her and say: No. This is my family. This is my world. I will not let you take it from me.

The others all bent their heads, ready to be washed away by the unforgiving tide of the story, by the inevitability of it all, but Mabel Pines braced herself against the current and stood tall and let it break over her.

Mabel Pines ignored her uncle’s protests, ignored the hopeless look in his eyes, and picked up the book she’d made and started to read. The man who wasn’t her uncle anymore seemed frightened when she climbed into his lap, but she knew that she fit there, knew that the whole family fit together like a puzzle, like one of those sculptures where every piece balances the others so that if you remove one the whole thing falls apart. They’d been apart for so long, but they didn’t have to stay that way. They just needed to find the right way to slot together, and they were so close.

They were so close to a happy ending.

She knew the world was more selfish than she was. She knew she couldn’t fix everything. But she would fix this.

Mabel read. She read from a pink glittery scrapbook and she fought the story that was trying to catch her up in it. She battled back with her words and her stickers and her crooked photos and her love, weaving together hundreds of lace-weight threads into a net so strong that when the story got caught up in it instead of pulling her away it bucked and struggled and finally changed its course.

This is my reality, she told the universe. This is my story and my uncle, and you cannot have him.

And the universe reshaped itself around her.