#and I was just like. okay did you people come here to see art or come here to show off your purebred

[genericpuff]

The Derivative Fashion Sense of Lore Olympus

So I'm usually out here going Gordon Ramsay on Rachel's ass about her writing and art, but for this unsolicited essay I will be wearing a different hat.

Yep, we're going Miranda Priestly today. Specifically the Miranda Priestly who talks fashion, not the Miranda Priestly who abuses employees lmao (though rest assured, I'm gonna have a lot of curt words throughout this).

Disclaimer: I am not at all an expert on fashion, these are just my thoughts and observations from studying fashion styles as part of my own artistic journey, so as always, take what I have to say with loads of salt. I also realize the irony that I am addressing the derivative nature of Lore Olympus when I, myself, am creating a derivative retelling of Lore Olympus.

Alright, enough small talk.

There's this general misconception in runway fashion that all those "impractical outfits" are meant to be worn by the average person, people such as myself who see these outfits and go "what the fuck do you mean Lady Gaga wore a dress made out of meat?!" When we see these crazy fits, our first impression is often "Why would anyone wear that?"

Well, because they aren't outfits. They're art pieces.

And not only are the outfits themselves art pieces, but the people wearing them are the canvases. These outfits aren't designed for just anyone to wear, especially not your average Joe, they're designed both with the artist's vision as well as the model in mind. A lot of thought, expression, cultural influences, and personal messaging is sewn into these designs.

Think about it this way, you couldn't take that aforementioned Gaga meat dress and put it on Taylor Swift. Not only would it not be physically tailored to her, but it wouldn't align with Swift's brand of music. Gaga, at the time of wearing that dress, was making a statement that came about from a collaborative effort between herself, the canvas, and her fashion designer, the artist. The meaning would be lost if you put Swift, Katy Perry, or any other musician into it, because the fact that Gaga is the one wearing it is part of that meaning.

What would happen if you did take the meat dress and put it on someone else? Well, that's how you get the controversial 2022 Met Gala when Kim Kardashian wore the sequin dress that Marilyn Monroe wore for JFK back in 1962.

Not a replica. Not a re-interpretation. The actual literal dress that Monroe once wore. This was a very bold - and in my opinion, reckless - move on Kim's part, because not only was she forcing herself into a dress not tailored to her (and yes, there has been deliberation on what damage was caused to the dress on account of this) but rather than working with a fashion designer to come up with a fresh new interpretation of the same concept, she just went "yeah I'm gonna wear the exact dress", in what many interpreted as a disrespectful power move to artificially put herself on the same level of prestige as Monroe. But she still isn't on that level of prestige and it speaks volumes that she thought carving out her own legacy would be as simple as just taking someone else's. The wolf wore the sheep's clothing with the intent to fool the sheep, but it was still a wolf.

But okay okay, WHAT does this have to do with Lore Olympus?

Well, Rachel released a new interview clip.

I will say, these seem to have all been recorded at once probably when she was back at NYCC and they're probably going to be released daily leading up to the free release of the finale. Why they're hyping up the free version rather than hyping up the FastPass version that actually generates income, I have no clue, but I digress.

As always, the transcript is as follows:

"I really like looking at like, uh, vintage clothing and silhouettes that are... y'know, timeless. I mean, obviously it's really hard to future-proof work that's set in the modern setting because of course the times are gonna change, like, rapidly and there's not a lot you can do about it, but in terms of, like, fashion, there are just some silhouettes that are always going to look very classy, so... I try to put things that will not age. Like, I think there was a chapter recently where she [Persephone?] had like a very vintage Dior look which I really liked, um... and I feel like that will always look nice, like in 10 years time I'll be like, 'She looked good'. But there are some outfits which are more modern where I'm like, 'That probably won't look good in 10 years time'. But, y'know, we still got the inspired vintage Dior outfit so that's good, that's safe."

There isn't much to say about the actual transcribed text itself, but I do think it's very telling that Rachel tries to upsell her sense of fashion sense in LO when... much of it is just flat out derivative. At best she's often referencing real life people (mostly Hollywood celebrities) and at worst she's usually just grabbing stuff off Pinterest inspo boards without any consideration towards the influences or who she's putting into them.

That said, I do think she told on herself quite a bit in that final line of the interview clip - "that's good, that's safe."

I can understand wanting to play it safe in terms of knowing your limitations and not wanting to create something that would be dated in a few years.

But fashion... isn't about playing it safe. Because ultimately, how something ages in the long term isn't something that you, the artist, can control, and like many art mediums, you need to be focused on what to create next, not on how well your old art pieces still hold up in the present where they've been removed from their original context.

And I think this rings true for a lot of Lore Olympus, beyond just the fashion. It's all just a little too safe. We see it in the fashion, we see it in her uncommitted writing decisions, we see it in how often she's willing to retcon things just to write herself out of corners.

And I think that's really Rachel's biggest weakness as a creator at the end of the day. As much as she's tried to put on the persona of "screw you, I'll do what I want", her actions are always the opposite of what she says. She says that the fashion in LO is very vintage, but I can count on one hand how many outfits were actually vintage. The vast majority of them are a lot more modern, with a lot of Western influences, and sometimes with a boob window thrown in.

Case in point, the most recent outfit of Persephone wearing a practically-nude sparkle dress?

That's Rihanna's Swarovski dress that she wore in 2014.

Now, to Rachel's credit, she did find a way to personalize this to Persephone by removing the cap and giving her a rose-shaped bun, but the outfit itself is still just copied directly from Rihanna. Not only is there not a whole lot of Persephone's influence beyond her being literally made out of roses-

-but there isn't anything calling attention to the fact that this is a Greek myth retelling. And this isn't just a problem with the Swarovski dress callback, this is a problem EVERYWHERE.

And of course, that's not even touching on the fact that Hades and Hecate are forced to wear suits constantly. Because, according to Rachel, the fashion inspiration for Hades and Persephone only went as deep is "he's the groom and she's the bride"-

Rachel plays it safe by sticking purely to the inspirations she consumes from modern American media. The "modern twist" on the myths in LO is literally just "it's Greek myth but it's set in Los Angeles". She doesn't seem to want to put herself out there and actually consume Greek content any deeper than what she can find on Google, and it shows in how little Greek there is in this Greek myth comic.

There is, ironically, as I've been told by community members in ULO, a fashion collection called Persephone created by Paolo Sebastian, and in it you can see the actual Greek influences in these outfits far more than what you see in even Persephone's most visually stunning outfits:

These are dresses and yet Paolo uses them as an opportunity to tell the story of Persephone, somehow even more faithfully than an actual written adaption of The Hymn to Demeter. Because fashion, too, can tell a story - and Lore Olympus' fashion, like its writing, has no story to really tell, at least not in Rachel's hands when she's just pulling whatever she can find from what she treats as a pile of "stuff" on Google.

And that's not even getting into how the writing plays it safe much in the same way as the fashion influences and artistic choices. A good example is that S3 premiere sequence, in which Hades and Persephone are pulled away from each other so that... they can get washed down by their family and peers.

Rachel doesn't really do anything to re-contextualize this reference for the context and setting and circumstances of LO, she just goes "I liked that bath scene from Beauty and the Beast so I'm going to put it in LO."

And of course, it doesn't work as effectively as it did in Beauty and the Beast, because the whole original point of that scene was to showcase the big and scary Beast being washed down like a dog by his servants-turned-into-furniture while he stresses over how he's going to win over Belle. It's a comedic subversion, artistically by showing the ferocious beast reduced into a wet dog, but also on a narrative level by showing through his dialogue and actions how nervous he is to impress Belle because his own fate - as well as the fates of his servants - depend on her falling in love with him. He can't afford to mess this up.

But in LO, it's two naked people who we already know love each other and are committed to each other, we've already seen countless scenes of them being sweet on each other and showcasing that they're into each other, and by all accounts they've already gotten their happy ending, so it makes no sense for them to just be like "OMG SHE LIKES ME?? I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE LIKES ME!" "should I seduce him?!?!??" because this seems like a no-brainer and there's zero actual stakes riding on this the way that there was with Belle and the Beast. Plus the people washing them down aren't their servants who are in the same situation as them, they're random gods from the Pantheon whose affiliation ranges from "family" to "never even had a conversation before". One of the women washing down Persephone has literally never spoken a single line of dialogue to her; another one of them was literally dumped by her partner because he wanted Persephone more than her. Who are these people and why are they enthusiastically appearing to give her a bath? Why is Hades being given a scrub down by his own brother?

And that's really the most striking difference between inspired references and derivative ones. Undertale was a game created by a guy who was in love with retro games like Earthbound and Megaman. Stardew Valley was a game created by a guy who loved Harvest Moon and used to play it with his girlfriend. Content that's built on the foundation of another is natural and the basis of inspiration, but you have to go further with it than just going "yeah this thing existed and I'm taking it", otherwise you miss the purpose of why those inspirations were created the way they were.

And when you don't actually explore how you can re-interpret those influences and add your own voice into them, that's how you wind up writing like Rachel whose writing is about as inspired as a cheap character swap cutaway gag from Family Guy.

Rachel's great at referencing, but that's not at all an impressive thing to do as proven by Peter Griffin. She's not at all re-contextualizing or expanding on what inspired her... but she still claims that she's exactly what she's doing because she calls Lore Olympus a "deconstruction". But her deconstruction only ever goes so far as "well what if Aphrodite left Ares for Hephaestus instead of the other way around?" and then just showing that question and never answering it or delivering on the potential of what that could cause. At best, she'll ask a "what if?" but then never actually show us the what if, it begins and ends with the question and the question itself doesn't provoke any thought deeper than "huh, yeah, that would be neat I guess." Episode's over, next scene. What if we showed that clip of Bill O'Reilly freaking out on set, but like, replaced it with Stewie Griffin and changed nothing else about it except for that? That's the joke, next scene.

I know, we're digressing hard off the fashion here, but the fashion itself is just a symptom of a much bigger problem that expands even beyond Lore Olympus - Rachel plays things way too safe. Even her responses in her interviews are painfully subdued, often resorting to the same tired answers that we've heard 823190589320 times before to the same hand-picked questions that are undoubtedly chosen ahead of time to ensure she doesn't have to answer anything too complicated. And when she does say "I have thoughts about xyz" she never actually... expresses her thoughts. She just says she does and then moves on without any further elaboration because she can't wholeheartedly commit to whatever thoughts she has going on.

Granted, I'm sure that part of that is owed to the fact that she might feel like she can't say anything while the critics are breathing down her neck. I can understand that. But it's gotten so chronic that it's now bleeding into the work itself and it's led to even more criticism of her work. Need I remind you that this is the same person who copy pasted the definition of "xenia" from a first result Google search into her comic instead of naturally writing it into the script:

Rachel played it so safe that she basically treated her own audience like kindergartners by explaining what a scene meant even after explaining it in the text:

As true as it is in fashion, writing stories and making art takes risks. That doesn't mean you have to completely throw caution to the wind, but if you don't take risks, you do yourself the disservice of writing something that can truly be called unique and special to you. If you don't use your influences wisely, if you don't analyze and re-analyze what's influenced you over the years, you're going to wind up losing a lot of subtext in those influences and missing out on the opportunity to add your own voice into the re-interpretation. Rachel does take a lot of risks in LO, but they're not calculated risks, they're not risks that actually have any meaning behind them, she's sort of just throwing stuff at a wall and seeing what sticks, and worst of all, when it doesn't stick, she herself doesn't stick to it, she backpedals, she cowers away from the decisions she's made.

Rachel expressed her worries about depicting fashion that would become aged, but Lore Olympus is already aged through her own inability to commit to her decisions, take risks, and find her voice. It's aged itself through its poor interpretations of the myth, it's aged itself through its reliance on Tumblr tropes that have already been replaced tenfold, and it's aged itself through Rachel herself riding off the initial innovation of creating Lore Olympus and then never continuing to challenge herself or raise the bar for herself.

It proves true the discussion around why Lore Olympus became popular - at the time, it was groundbreaking, drawn in a style that we hadn't seen much of before, with fresh new takes on the myth; now, in 2024, its 'takes' feel tired and half-baked, and its art style has become a corporate-scrubbed shell of what it once was. And yet, Rachel is still rewarded for it all the same, so settling for comfortable mediocrity has become the name of the game.

Rachel may be trying as hard as the Disney life action remakes and Kim Kardashian to put herself on the same pedestal as the greats of yesteryear simply by copying what they did, but in playing it this safe and refusing to find her own voice out of the voices that influenced her, Lore Olympus isn't timeless. It's soulless.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

[allastoredeer]

Can I ask your opinion on radiobelle/charlastor and radiodust? I'm just curious because, other than chaggie, they were like THE ships pre-show while radioapple was pretty rare, and now it's kinda the other way around, and huskerdust shippers finally getting fed

I don't really favour any Alastor ship over the other (huge multishipper over here) and I haven't found a problem that can't be solved or made worse with a polycule, actually (with Alastor centre stage <3)

AYYYE! Hello my fellow Alastor multishipper! And yes, of course! I'd love to share my opinions and thoughts :3

When I first saw radiobelle/charlastor I felt kind of weird about it - this was before the show even dropped. While I wasn't active in the fandom after watching the pilot, I still saw things here and there, and radiobelle never really did it for me.

Recently though, I've been coming across some super cute radiobelle fan-art, and honestly? The ship doesn't really bother me. In fact, it's kind of growing on me.

I know people like to rave about how Alastor is like a "father figure," or Charlie "saw" him as a father figure, especially during the "Dad Beat Dad" episode. But, like, it's really not that big of a deal. They are, in no way, actually related. There is no familial ties to them aside from words and perceived feelings. And even if she does truly see him as a father figure, fandom is THE place to go to change canon and do whatever you want with the characters. That's what it's always been and that's what it's always going to be.

Besides, the ship has a lot of cute potential and I'm so here for it. I think one of the reasons people hate on it so much is this weird, perceived power-difference/imbalance between them. What with Charlie being this wide-eyed, hopelessly optimistic, and sometimes very naive women, and Alastor being this darker, manipulative, seemingly "older" man. I can see how that would squick people out, especially with the idea of Alastor manipulating/using Charlie.

However, I'd like to argue that Charlie is a grown-ass adult. Considering how the aging process works in Hell (particularly with Hellborn. Particularly with hellborn royalty, considering Lucifer is a fallen angel who's older than time itself and yet looks like he could be the same age or younger than Alastor), Charlie could be leagues older than Alastor. Maybe she's actually a couple hundred years old in Earth years, but she's considered in her mid twenties in Hell years.

As for the manipulation thing, we've been shown several times in the show that Charlie won't put up with Alastor's bullshit, and that she'll even call him out on it. I don't think she's as naive to Alastor's manipulation or schemes as everyone thinks she is.

I'm not a die-hard radiobelle shipper or anything, but I think its a pairing that has a lot of cute and wholesome potential. I think it gets WAY more hate than it deserves. (Besides, has no one considered the absolute hilarity of Lucifer meeting up with his daughter for the first time in years, and getting introduced to her creepy, dark, sadistically weird boyfriend with an obsession with 20th century radio? Does no one else find that fucking hilarious?? Just me??)

As for radiodust, I wasn't weirded out by it like I was with radiobelle. Originally, I was just kind of meh about the ship. But also like radiobelle, I've been seeing more content of it and its starting to grow on me. An Alastor/Husk/Angel Dust polycule actually sounds kind of cute, and has the potential for a very interesting dynamic to play around with.

My general consensus: While I'm not a die-hard shipper of radiobelle or radiodust, I like the pairings and I can see why other people would like them too.

Additional, to those who do dislike these two ships, that's okay. Some pairings just aren't to your taste, and there is nothing wrong with that. Sometimes a pairing just squicks you out. That's fine. Just don't harrass other people who do like it. If you do not like these pairings, then move on and read/watch/look at something you do like. It's that simple.

I have mad respect for both of these ships because, like you said, dear Anon, they were what kept the Hazbin fandom going for years. Let's show some respect for our elders, people. Honor those who came before 🫡

#I get peoples dislike for these ships #and really its okay #you're not obligated to like a ship #just don't harrass other people for it #or make up reasons about why THEY shouldn't ship it #do you not have better things to do with your time? #go find something you do like and maybe you'd stop being so pissy #I do have a fondness for both ships even if I don't outright look for content of them #they're cute #and they have so much interesting story potential #asks #anon #anonymous #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #angel hazbin hotel #radiobelle #radiodust #charlastor

[rimouskis]

listen I love dogs but people need to stop bringing them places. ma'am that yappy schnauzer is not a service animal, why is he in the grocery store. what the hell are you doing. this isn't a dog park.

#my other pet peeve is people bringing dogs to art and street fairs lol. #like oh yeah an area that is so congested with people that everyone's bumping into each other... #perfect place for you to bring your 90-pound huge dog that probably doesn't like being squished #OR your tiny dachshund that many people will nearly step on because it's so small #there was this really ritzy art street fair my family would drive to when we were younger and it was in a nice area? #and it was literally like the westminster dog show. like you'd see dalmatians and malamutes and greyhounds and great danes #and I was just like. okay did you people come here to see art or come here to show off your purebred #anyways I'm a dog person I literally have a dog and love him to death even though he's weird as hell #but I'm also a firm believer that 1. dogs do not belong everywhere and 2. many dog owners are not GOOD dog owners

[kafkasmuses]

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago. 

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 

ahem. 

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 

you blink at him, once, twice. 

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything. 

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right? 

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 

“whatever helps,” you remark. 

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 

“with tennis?” 

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 

“like your wife?” 

“like you.” 

art corrected you. 

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 

“what?” you frown, confused. 

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 

“what do you mean?” 

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ready?” he hushes out. 

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 

#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson challengers #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist smut #mike faist challengers

[makoodles]

ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

#on holidays atm and I’ve been stressing about how to post this 😭 I’ll have part 2 posted in a day or two! #neteyam #neteyam x human #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #na'vi x human #na’vi x reader #awow #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #fics

[ellastone-olsen]

hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wanda marvel

[1-800-kami]

4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo

content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic

gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.

in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.

despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.

“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.

it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”

gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.

“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”

“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.

“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”

“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.

you’re home.

“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.

you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”

you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”

“horsey!”

“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.

“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”

“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.

“what did you do this time, satoru?”

“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”

“...”

satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”

“satoru-”

“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”

“toru-”

“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”

“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.

“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”

now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”

“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”

“yeah, sure you did.”

being a father is so difficult.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru comfort #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #dad gojo #dad!gojo #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo

[creatingblackcharacters]

“The Same Place as the Music” Lighting & Color

“Where is the light coming from?” “The same place as the music.” Andrew Lesnie, Cinematographer of LOTR

How & Why It's A Problem

If I had to summarize the frustration I have with this topic in one image, I'd use JeCorey Holder's (queer Black creative!) meme:

Now here's the thing. I'm not saying you have to be a master at lighting. I'm surely not. Hell, I still play around with lighting in my art in ways that aren’t the ‘most realistic’. You can’t ask me the technical explanations behind ‘color theory’ or 'contrast' without me doing some more reading. However… I don’t think anyone needs an art degree to understand this point:

We should be able to SEE your brown skinned Black characters!

I brought this up in my lessons about skin tones and blushing, and it applies with lighting as well. If all of your other characters have focused light and shadows, so should your Black characters.

However, this does NOT mean making them lighter-skinned!!!!

It's not funny nor logical at all to suggest that they somehow can't be seen like your other characters when you’re the one creating the piece. It's like a classic fifth-grade racist joke, “You blend in at night”. Har-de-har.

I was once rudely told to my face (well in the DMs) that a Black character that was completely Europeanized looked like that “because of the [sepia] lighting”. So I'm going to give you all, gracious readers, an example to show that that's not true.

This is Ana Flávia, Afro-Brazilian model! Gaze upon her beauty! Notice how in both of these filters, Ana did not, in fact, turn into a white woman! Because, my friends, that is not how that works! At all!

Here are some other examples of Black people in non-color lighting:

None of these people vanished from the frame just because there was no color. They didn't have to paint on lighter makeup to be captured by the camera. What do they all have in common (in this example)?

Lighting!

Now let’s discuss different ways to think about and potentially try instead!

What I want you all to keep in mind, is that the art you’re painting:

And I know that's silly right, like yeah no shit Ice, we knew that. BUT my point here is don’t be afraid to study photography, theatre, and staging for ideas. They actively work with light! It’s why I share so many images of models; it’s purposeful, focused staging of light with many of these compositions!

Brown-skinned Black people- brown-skinned people in general- GLOW in the light! Our skin reflects environmental light! There’s so much opportunity to play with that, and you can see different examples in those mediums.

Here are a couple articles of lighting in film focused on Black actors.

When lighting a person with dark complexion, the answer is not LIGHTENING THE SKIN, it’s understanding how light reflects off of dark skin.” -Nilah Magruder

Nilah Magruder (Black creator!) has an ENTIRE, thorough and wonderful essay on the topic, far better than I could give! She incorporates the use of cameras, lighting, painting, and more- so rather than be redundant here, I'm going to spotlight (ha see what I did there. It's okay, I know I'm funny) her and her explanation.

Incorporating Blackness in Color/Colorful Lighting

@dsm7 has an excellent and short visual explanation of how picking certain colors will lead to washing out or whitewashing Black characters, and how certain lighting and backgrounds (think the black and white photos on brighter backgrounds) will change the way their skin tone looks.

@nicosbighead has one of my favorite images on here, that shows how many different colors can still be used to convey the image of Blackness. Notice how all those pinks still worked?

@gaksdesigns has a beautiful picture here that I feel utilizes the light in a very minimal yet effective way to show highlights even on a palette that's fully brown.

This article approaches from a lighting perspective via filmmaking, but essentially Sade Ndya suggests instead of increasing the amount of light, change the color/lens of the light based on your character’s skin, as well as for the circumstances of the scene. They'll remain vibrant that way, and you’ll still capture what you need.

I know one way I do this on CSP (I think I’ve mentioned this but I can’t remember) is to use the Add Glow tool with the same or a similar shade of the character’s brown skin tone as a highlight under natural light, or maybe use different colors or filters depending on the sort of light on their skin at the time.

Here’s a reddit about it too, just because I know y’all value Reddit on here, and someone else discussed the topic that both Nilah and Sade discussed.

Is It Intentional?

There are going to be times where you intend for the light to be minimal. Maybe it’s a style choice. That should still show purposeful composition. Here’s an interview with famed Black director Ava Duvernay discussing the intentional darkness on Black actors in the prison scene in the movie Selma. To show that they're both trapped in prison AND that Martin is temporarily low on resolve- it's a part of the story that's being told.

I'm always talking about this: there is a difference between intention (and following through), and neglecting to think about it at all. And neglect isn't what we want, because often we can tell visually when it is- when an artist simply did not think to do it for one versus the rest.

Sidenote, on Youtube in the suggestions after Ava's interview, are also plenty of videos discussing lighting for dark-skin as well- why not take the chance to look?

Conclusion

We do not lack for light! We aren’t flat and lightless when you see us in life. It's actually a pretty awesome part of being brown-skinned. If you’re giving proper, flattering lighting to everyone else, give it to us as well. Study and experiment with ways to highlight brown skin.

You already know what I’m going to say. It’s going to take practice, same as anything else, because it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black art #black character design #black artists

[unknownunidentified101]

LND HEADCANNONS

WARNINGS | slight angst and suggestive

CONTAINS | Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ABOUT | random head cannons with love and deep space men

RAFAYEL

He has a fear of heights, it doesn’t help his job requires him to travel around the world. With that, he will always finds some solace in you

“ remind me why you called me again?” You stood at the entrance of the gateway to the plane. Rafayel tries to ignore your question, submitting his plane ticket to the flight attendant

“ earth to Rafayel?” You were slightly annoyed, having been called at 5am to go to the airport

“ gosh I thought the sight of the airport would answer that question” Rafayel sighs. You remain adamant, waiting for a proper response

“ fineeee. I’m going away for an art exhibition, I wanted to take you with me” Rafayel explained, dragging you inside the awaiting airplane

“ why? Isn’t Thomas coming with you!” You huffed, crossing your arms in a fit. Rafayel pauses and turns back to you. “ you’re my body guard no?” He tries to mimic a puppy’s eyes

“ I am but this sort of thing doesn’t really require protection” you refer to the airplane. Seeing that you wanted to leave, Rafayel grabbed your wrist

“ I’m just scared of heights okay?” Rafayel confessed. You were bewildered. Him? Afraid of heights? You would think he would be use to flights by now

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Your tone softened

“ you would bully me” Rafayel pouted. You felt guilty, you were acting like a brute before.

“ I wouldn’t…in fact, I’ll support you.” You stare down, intertwining your fingers with Rafayel’s . “ if there is no stable ground, I’ll be your land” you vowed

Rafayel parts his lips, in awe at your words. “ just tell me next time” you smile tenderly, leaning upwards to give the man a peck on the lips

EXTRA NOTE : Rafayel made you hold his hand the entire flight ( and you sat in the window seat)

Has thing for holding you very tightly. Most people would give you a squeeze but Rafayel finds himself leeching onto you

“ she said she would be here soon!” Rafayel complained to Thomas. “ I already called her, she will be here soon” Thomas was also getting increasingly annoyed

“ did you even call the right number?” Rafayel whined, Thomas snapped back, “ I did! I heard her voice!”

“ just great” Rafayel mumbled, slumping back in his seat. “ if only you didn’t lose your phone in the accident” Thomas mumbled under his breath

“ I heard that!” Rafayel sprung out of his hospital bed

Before Thomas could utter another word the sounds of the door unlocked. “ [y/n]?” Rafayel’s hopes were exceedingly high

“ Rafayel!” Your frantic voice echoed through the hospital room. Thomas had a relieved expression while Rafayel sprinted to you, ignoring the wires attached to his body

“ Baby!” Rafayel was like a little child, squeezing you tightly. All his resentful emotions were long gone by now.

His lips peppered you with numerous kisses

“ Rafayel” you breathed, or at least you tried too, he was squeezing you like no tomorrow. “ Rafayel! Too tight” you had to mutter

Rafayel instantly let’s go, scared he hurt you. “ I’m sorry! I missed you so much” he held your hand

“ me too. Now get back to your bed mister! I have to lecture you!”

He has frequent nightmares of you killing him or vise visa. It disheartens him to think about it, knowing he can’t cry it out.

Rafayel wakes up in cold sweat. His eyes frantically search the room. You weren’t by his side and that’s what saddened him.

He had a recurring dream, the moment where you perished. It was unbearable for him. With a cold breath, Rafayel hazily stumbled out his room

While arriving outside his room, there was a dim light in his studio. He was confused, usually his studio would automatically have the light off at night

With his guard up, he walked into his studio. However instead of a thief, it was you.

Relief washed over him. You were the only person he wanted to be with right now. “ [y/n]?” He calls your name

Your back was faced to him and as you heard his voice you were startled. “ oh Rafayel! I was just taking a walk” you walk to the man

“ I was wondering where my lover went” Rafayel couldn’t help but chuckle. “ did I worry you? Are you okay?” You asked many questions while carelessly caressing Rafayel’s cheek

“ I’m fine. Just a bad nightmare” Rafayel admitted, rubbing his face into your hand. “ poor you” you coo, wrapping your hands around the man’s neck

Rafayel hums, wrapping his arms around your waist. “ can we go back to the bed now?”

“ okay”

He has SO many moles.

You sat next to Rafayel while he muses about his latest painting. You couldn’t help but realise the small moles on his face

“ your moles are cute Rafayel” you mention. Rafayel stops painting, placing his paint brush down

“ what?” He wants to hear you again

“ your moles. I could kiss them all day” you teased with a smirk. Rafayel’s cheek turn to a hue of pink, “ you know, they say your moles are where your past lover kissed you” you point out to Rafayel’s moles

Rafayel smiles. Ironic because you were all his past lovers. “ Is that so? Should I claim you now then?” Rafayel gains the courage

You were a bit startled by his comment but you gave in to his alluring eyes. Not long after you found yourself colliding lips with Rafayel.

Every time he looks at you, he gets a wave of adrenaline, he vows that one day, he will marry you.

“ beautiful isn’t it?” You pointed at the flowers embedded in the garden. Rafayel only has eyes for you, “ really beautiful” he emphasises, eyes fixated on you

“ are you even looking at the flowers?” You turn to Rafayel’s soft gaze

“ the only beautiful flower I see, is you.” Rafayel gently whispers. “ In fact, you are even prettier than a flower” he adds

You feel butterflies swarm in your stomach at the mention. “ can you promise me something?” Rafayel inquires

Your body faces him, letting him know you were listening to him. “ promise me, you’ll never leave me” Rafayel pulls you closer to him

“ where is this coming from?” You giggle at the mention. Rafayel’s eyes hold seriousness, letting you know he was not joking. You feel his hands hover over your lip

“ never mind. I will Rafayel, I will never leave you” you pinky promise, making Rafayel relieved. “ good, in that case, I’ll marry you then.” Rafayel leaned in for a loving kiss

And indeed, he will marry you again.

XAVIER

Despite always being sleepy and being on the verge of knocking out, Xavier always tries to stay awake for you.

“ and I couldn’t believe it Xavier! The nerve of that woman” you ranted. It was late at night and you just got home after a mission

“ that woman had no sense of respect” Xavier added. “ I know! And she yelled at me” you ranted even more.

You were frustrated and annoyed, throwing your pillows on your bed. “ but I’m sorry for annoying you Xavier, you probably want to sleep” your tone changed

There was some silence before Xavier softly answered. “ no. Keep going. I love hearing your voice.” He muses

“ are you sure? I don’t want to bore you” you lay on your cushioned bed. “ you could never ‘bore’ me dear” Xavier breathed

You couldn’t tell if he was going to sleep or not but nevertheless you chatted your head off. You thought Xavier would fall asleep but he would always hum and give you short sentences in response

He made you feel appreciated

Sometimes when you speak, Xavier can’t help but stare at your lips. His a very bold man, therefore he kisses you to stir you up

“ Tara said she would buy me these” you pout at recalling a fond memory. Xavier stays silent, listening to your rant

“ Is that so?” His eyebrows show interest

“ yeah but she ended up buying this for herself” your pout was abnormally large. Xavier stared with pitiful eyes

You were utterly breathtaking. You put him under a spell he could not resist

“ but you know it’s okay-“

Before you could finish your sentence, a pair of lips engulfed your own. You were stunned to say the least, closing your eyes after registering Xavier’s actions

“ Xavier..” your tone whined as Xavier parted from your lips. “ I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist myself, you were too cute” Xavier teases.

“ you sly fox” you mock, feeling Xavier pull you even closer to him. “ say that again and I’ll give you even more kisses”

You always have your way with him. He always finds himself losing to you. His utterly intoxicated by you.

“ what if you Iose?” Xavier looks at the card in his hand. “ if I lose..?” You begin to ponder

“ if I lose, I pay for the meal tonight” you wager. Xavier is intrigued by your words. “ alright then, loser pays for tonight’s dinner” Xavier readies his cards

You were determined but that wouldn’t last long. You see, despite Xavier not knowing half the rules of the game, he somehow had an advantage over you

The problem was he knew he was going to win. Xavier looks up at your worried expression. You seemed frustrated and it was evident you didn’t want to lose

Xavier smiles. It was never his intention for you pay for the dinner you two would be having that night. Xavier stays silent, closing his eyes

He knew you would take the bait and swap the kitties in the cup. As soon as your shuffling finished, Xavier peeked his eye open

“ huh. The cats position seems off” he plays it off like a natural. “ Is it? Can’t tell” your laughs were stifled

Xavier’s lips stay upwards. “ guess I’m the loser then.” Xavier surrenders. You swayed him into losing and he didn’t regret any bit of it

He did it all for the smile on your face.

“ I’ll pay for the dinner tonight okay?”

He spends majority of his time looking after you. Even when you don’t see him.

“ Xavier are you there?” You had called Xavier after talking with your friends

“ what do you mean?” Xavier tries to make it sound like he just woke up. “ i thought I saw you behind me” you begin to worry

“ I’m at …home” Xavier says after some hesitation.

“ are you? You know the craziest thing happened to me” you begin to retell. “ tell” you could feel Xavier’s nod through the screen

“ I was talking with my friend and suddenly the light nearby went off, so he left me alone” you explained. “ what’s crazy about that” Xavier’s voice seems forced

“ I’m scared to walk home but then a speck of light comes down and guides me” you sounded crazy

“ really..?” Xavier tries to hide his cheeky voice

“ yeah, the light reminded me of you. To bad I never got to finish my conversation with my friend” there was a glint of sadness in your speech

“ you sure? 23 minutes was enough” Xavier spurted out.

You had a smirk on your face. “ how did you know we talked for that long?” It was your turn to tease him. Xavier goes silence, caught red handed

“ you cheeky star.” You joked. “ anyway, open the door, I’m outside your house” you knock on the door

Xavier shuffles and panick envelopes him. “ that is…unless you aren’t home?” You were too smart for him

The sounds of the call hanging up are heard and you hear footsteps approaching you

“ fine. You caught me” Xavier’s voice rings from behind you. “ you really are cute Xavier ” you smile, hugging the man

“ whatever” Xavier hides the sourness in his voice, kissing your forehead.

A HUGE tease

You were relaxing in Xavier’s sofa after he called you over. Playing on your phone you hear the door unlock.

Sitting up quickly, your eyes dart to Xavier. Xavier appears before you, only wearing pants with a towel slinging around his neck

You felt hot instantly, Xavier spots you after he attempts to dry his hair. “ ah, you caught me” he smiled at your reaction

You feel Xavier’s footsteps travels over to your position. “ what’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” Xavier grazes a hand over your cheek

“ or…are you embarrassed?” A sly smirk appears on his lips

“ go away Xavier” you fluster up. Xavier giggles. “ you’ve seen me like this before…so why are you acting all shy now?”

ZAYNE

When you happened to be partying one time, Zayne had to bring you back home. However this was proven to be a challenge when you wouldn’t budge, so instead, he carried you over shoulder his shoulder

“ let’s go [y/n]” Zayne meets you at a night club. Sure enough, you were very drunk

“ party pooper” you mock, trying to drink another glass of alcohol. Quickly and swiftly the drink is swapped from your hands.

“ I don’t like that tone” Zayne softly holds your cheek.

“ hey! Zayne I was drinking that!” You slur to Zayne’s stoic face, Zayne observes your drunken state and smiles softly. “ time for you to go home” Zayne reminds

“ I don’t want to go home. I’m fine right here” you were still in your seat

Zayne is tired, and more over, he knows you weren’t in a stable state. “ i see how it is” He sighs, grabbing your waist while pulling you in

“ what are you doing!” Before you could finish your speech, Zayne lifts you over his shoulder.

“ Hey! Put me down!” You throw a fit while the man couldn’t care any less

“ I told you to go home” Zayne holds you securely. Waving to all your friends. “ this is so embarrassing” you grumble, Zayne’s lips begin to grow a smirk in victory

Zayne sometimes notices the way your desk is scattered with papers and books, being a small clean freak, he cleans things for you without being asked

Zayne passes by your table. It looked like a truck had wrecked your room. Your table had notes scattered everywhere

Sticky notes were folded and pages looked worn out. Zayne sighs, knowing you just had your final exams. You weren’t at home as of currently,

So silently, without being ordered to, Zayne cleans your desk and eventually, your room. He makes sure to keep boundaries, knowing not to mess with your private stuff

Then it was as if time had passed by very quickly. He had finished the work just in time for you to come home from your exams

You were exhausted and pent up. Opening your door you see a rose petal path leading to the kitchen

Smiling at the sight, you follow the path and see Zayne prepare a home cooked dinner for you. “ welcome home dear” Zayne looks back at you

You felt like crying, he was so sweet. You dropped your bags, stumbling over to the man

“ i love you. I don’t deserve you” you sniffle into Zayne’s shoulder. “ me too” Zayne murmurs

“ how did you do all this?” You were breathless, lookng around your decorated home

“ I got off work early, so I came over and cleaned up your place. Then I cooked dinner for you” Zayne make it seem like it was nothing

You felt your eyes water. “ Zayne…you…you are the best” you engulf his body again, squeezing him

“ you are just want I needed after a long day Zayne.”

He has nightmares very often. He always tries to lure you to his house to spend the night

The storm raged outside Zayne’s room. He is less startled than you. “ it’s really pouring out there” you look at the falling rain drops

“ a pity really” Zayne wipes the dishes in his hands

“ but you know I really have to get home” you muster the courage. Zayne looks worried, he stops you. “ how will you get home?” He pouts

“ a taxi I suppose” you huff

Zayne can not allow that, who knows what the night brings to unsuspecting victims

“ you can stay” Zayne points out. You shake your head, “ I don’t want to be a bother” you try to decline

“ I have trouble sleeping.” Zayne says out of nowhere. You tilt your head in slight confusion

“ I would like it…if you stayed” Zayne fiddled with his hands out of nervousness. You realise the severity of his words

“ you should’ve started with that. Of course I’ll stay Zayne” you walk over to the cold man, cupping the man’s cheek

“ thank you” Zayne rubbed his cheek against your hand. “ I should be thanking you” you laugh wholeheartedly, sharing a kiss

Very picky with food so you always end up eating his left overs.

“ Zayne?” Your voice crowds his thoughts. Zayne looks up, realising he had sorted out his food into big portions

“ are you going to eat that?” Your fork points at the pile of carrots on his plate.

Zayne looks down and embarrassingly shakes his head. “ you don’t like carrots?” You piece some information together. “ I was never fond of it” Zayne puts it

You smilel. “ a doctor not liking healthy foods? Strange” you comment

“ that’s a stereotype, who taught you that?” Zayne looks a bit annoyed at your mockery . “ I’m kidding of course!” You chuckle at his expression

“ here, give me the leftovers” you offer. Zayne obligates, passing you his own plate

“ …thank you.”

Looks forward to your daily visits to the hospital. If you don’t show up, he will get more aggravated

Zayne lights up upon seeing the door open. He had been checking the time regularly and he predicted you would arrive by now

“ here are the documents Dr Zayne” his assistant rolls around. Zayne can’t hide his disappointment, his smile was now a frown

“ what? Is something wrong?” His assistant judges him.

“ nothing is wrong” Zayne props up his glasses upwards, eyes now fixated on the computer screen ahead of him. His assistant knows something is wrong and realises the reason

“ your girlfriend should be arriving by now-“

“ why? Is she here? Did she come by earlier?” Zayne seems to have high hopes in his tone. His assistant smirks and Zayne feels a tease coming out of her mouth

“ why are you asking that? Do you miss her?” She places a hand on her hip

“ no. “ Zayne tries to immediately defend. “ you can tell me you know! I wouldn’t tease you” his friend tries to frame him

“ leave” Zayne avoids her gaze. The nurse sighs, rolling her eyes, “ fine whatever” she dismisses, walking out the room

Zayne curses silently, typing away at his keyboard. However not too long after, the door unlocks again. “ I told you to stop teasing me” Zayne nonchalantly scolds

“ teasing you?” He recognises a sweet voice

“ [y/n]?” His eyes are filled with sparkles upon seeing you. “ I’m not teasing you” you repeat with a smile, opening your arms for a hug

Zayne immediately gets up and hugs you without exchanging any more words. “ your late” he couldn’t help but lecture

“ sorry, there were a lot of wanderers today” you pat his shoulder.

“ are you hurt?”

“ nope.”

EXTRA NOTE : on one of your visits, you notice Zayne Keeps a photo of you in his office. If his ever stressed, looking at you is enough to bring him relief. However it is always good to have the ‘real deal’ in front of him.

#fluff #fanfic #angst #love & deepspace #love and deep space character #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #rafayel #Zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne x reader #Xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #zayne x you #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #love & deepspace rafayel #xavier x you #headcannons #zayne love and deepspace

[luveline]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

spencer comforts you with facts and affection alike when you worry you aren't as pretty as the girls on his team. requested here. fem!reader, 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Photographs can't accurately capture how beautiful Emily Prentiss is. JJ and Penelope are both gorgeous too, but it's Emily who startles you. Her hair a cool black colour and curled around her demure face, the line of her nose and her deep, dark eyes. Her lips, picture perfect and painted a soft pink.

The prettier you find her, the more your heart sinks. 

Spencer squeezes your shoulder. It's bold for him to do so in front of his friends (his family, really), he can barely show you affection in the grocery store without turning rosy. You preen at the touch, but the feeling of insecurity remains like an irksome gnat zipping around your head. 

"We didn't think we'd ever get to meet you!" Derek is saying, a casual arm thrown around Penelope's shoulders, a drink in hand. 

Rossi couldn't attend and JJ felt too pregnant, bringing your party to a solid six. It still feels like a lot of people to meet at once. 

You hold the flute of your glass in a nervous hand, fingers stickied by condensation. You have a feeling that you're in trouble, all these profilers assessing your behaviour, nowhere to hide. "No, I'm," —you raise your voice to hide the funny tremor that's taken hold— "so happy to meet you all, I promise I've been trying!" 

"Whenever she gets time off, we're on a case," Spencer says. 

Emily smiles widely at your statement. It's such an open, friendly look, it floors you. You look down at your drink and blink. 

You don't know it, but the team exchanges glances at your behaviour. 

"So, do you enjoy your work?" Emily asks. "Or hate it, like us?"

Hotch laughs and moves his pint glass onto a coaster. "I think it's safe to say that none of us hate our jobs." 

"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I can't imagine how hard it is, how hard you all work," you say. Spencer's hand drifts down your back. "But you have each other."

Emily does this thing with her eyes and if you weren't in a happy relationship, you'd probably be a puddle at her feet. "Too much of each other," she says jokingly.

She's gorgeous, and Spencer sees her every single day? You're nothing compared to her. Not smart, not strong, and nowhere near as pretty. You could never measure up. 

"Would you, um, excuse me?" you ask, moving your purse from your lap and onto the table. 

"You okay?" Spencer asks, looking up as you stand. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna use the bathroom," you say quietly. You aren't, but if you were, you wouldn't really want to broadcast that anyhow. 

You try not to wobble on the way to the bathroom. The weight of five pairs of eyes follows you as you leave, four of which are trained in the art of spotting lies. Everything isn't okay, and they know that, and by extension —all the effort you made tonight? Getting your hair done, your nicest clothes, your makeup and your perfume? It might as well be a huge blinking neon sign that says you're trying really hard, and it doesn't make a lick of difference. 

You sidle into a stall, pulling the lid of the toilet down with a tissue and sitting on it heavily. Elbows on your knees, you hunch your back and hide your face in your hands, breathing in the smell of bleach through quick breaths. Water drips somewhere near the sinks, the cacophony of the restaurant hushed. 

You've never felt naturally pretty. With Spencer, it hasn't ever mattered. He's never given any indication that he cares. But… 

"Loser," you mutter to yourself. 

"Hey, Y/N?" Spencer asks, his voice bouncing off of the tile. 

You freeze. "Two seconds!" 

"You're not really using the bathroom," he says incredulously. 

"Says who?"

Spencer laughs, his tone wry, "I know you really well, you realise? Like, better than I know anyone else on the planet."

"Then you know I'm having an authentic pee and need my privacy." 

"Come on out." 

The ringing of the lock slotting free is like an announcement of your embarrassment. Spencer's standing a half a foot from the doorway, keeping his distance from the no man's land that is the ladies room. You're going to use it to your advantage, only he holds out his hand expectantly. When you take it, he pulls you out of the bathroom and firmly into the restaurant hallway. 

You can't escape his concern, nor his hands as they cup your face unexpectedly. 

They feel as nice as they look, deft fingers pressed to your skin like you're one of his puzzles to decipher. 

"What upset you?" he asks. 

"Nothing your friends did, I promise." 

"But something." He smooths a hand down to your shoulders. He's not quite frenetic but certainly close to it, searching for a problem he won't find on the surface. "You're insecure about something," he deduces. 

You cringe bodily. "I'm not." 

"What is it? Is it your necklace? It really is nice, the colour goes with your skin. It's understated." 

"It's not my necklace, Spence." 

"Then what is it?" 

"I just…" You pull his hands from your neck and collar to hold them, looking up into his melty brown eyes wishing he weren't so hard to say no to. "Feel like you could do better." 

He frowns. It's a pout, and endearing, but not what you want to see. 

"I love being with you, I just think, you know, you're so handsome, and you have all these pretty friends," you say.  

"You think you're not pretty?" he asks. He sounds gutted, if a little confused. 

"Not like her." Your voice quivers. 

The first time you got upset in front of Spencer, he wasn't sure what to do. He ended up putting an arm around your shoulder, your brand new boyfriend out of his depth. You've both had some practice at comforting one another now, and any hesitance Spencer held is gone. He wraps his arms around you like he's afraid you'll fall over, the crease of his stressed brow smushing against the side of your face. 

"Don't think that. Why would you think that?" he asks quietly. 

"I know I'm not pretty like some girls," you say, surprised by the ferocity of his reaction. 

"You don't know that, because it's not true. You're beautiful." He squeezes your side between his fingers, something contemplative about the way his thumb curls upward. "Do you know how many books I've read?" 

"Thousands." 

He hums. A hand grasps at the back of your neck. "Thousands of books. I know so much, especially about the human body. I know that falling in love can make some people feel the same effects as cocaine. Staring into their eyes can synchronise your heartbeats." He encourages your head back. "Butterflies are adrenaline and when I look at you I can't get them to stop, even if I know it's chemical." Spencer's eyes are lit with something you don't often see directed at you, a furious conviction. "What we think we know isn't always fact, so if you think you're not pretty…" He nods his head gently to the left. "There's only really one thing left to do." 

Your heart feels like it's being juiced. "What's that?" you ask. 

He grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. Fingertips to his breastbone, he holds it flat. Sure enough, even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, you can feel the rapid capering of his pulse. 

"It's like that pretty much any time I look at you." 

"Spence…" 

"I know it's bad," he says.

"Are you messing with me?"

"Yeah, I did a lap before I came to find you– No!" He laughs, giving you an admonishing look. "Why would I mess with you? How could I?" 

"I don't know." 

He dips in to kiss your frown. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "So, so pretty. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, no matter what you think." 

You don't believe that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, but you believe that he believes it. He has no reason to lie to you, nothing to gain. He could've said, Hey, you're pretty, and left it at that. He could've been angry with you for leaving the table for something some people would say was superficial. But Spencer's your sweetheart. 

"Do you want to go home, angel?" he asks, looking at you worriedly. 

"No." You don't even have to think about it —you've done enough thinking. "I don't want to go home. Sorry, Spencer. I feel better." And you'll stay out all night if he's going to call you angel again. 

"Well, let me know if you need me to tell you again." 

The chances of you surviving such an ardent speech a second time are low. "I won't be doing that." 

Spencer shrugs. "You'll let me know, even if you don't think so. You have a tell when you're upset." 

You spend the rest of the night making up for your disruption (which Spencer's friends immediately dismiss without questioning), shepherding the crisper curly fries on to Spencer's plate because he likes them that way, and begging him to tell you what your tell is with subtle pleading glances and a hand on his knee. Nothing inappropriate, but affectionate nonetheless. 

He doesn't tell you no matter how much you ask, and maybe it's the drinks or the way the scone light kisses his cheeks in a warm buttery light, you can't find it in you to be mad. 

"Keep your secrets," you say, chin tilted upward. You're failing to glare at him, too much love in your eyes for it to be believable. 

"You're beautiful," he says back, mirroring your expression playfully, before leaning down for a chaste kiss. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! if you did, please consider reblogging, it makes a big difference to me<3 have a good day!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[entername322]

Like a moth to a flame

Eunbi (ex Izone) X Male Reader ft Yujin (ex Izone, IVE)

Length: 12358 words

Next part

Life fucking sucks doesn't it? Dead father, alcoholic and abusive mom, failing grades, crippling depression, backstabbing friends, violent debt collector. Shit, is there anything going your way? Well at least you don't have drug addiction, kinda suck it took away your brother from you though. “Hey, you're okay?” You felt a tap on your shoulder waking you up from your existential crisis. “I'm fine, just….. thinking”, You look at your friend, Chan, “Yeah, life”, fucking sucks, but he doesn't need to finish that sentence. “Me and the boys are going out for a drink today. You want to come? We can cheer for your brother”, You shake your head, “Come on, drink on me”, You felt a frown forming in your face.

“Don't fucking offer me that shit”, Chan sighed, “Listen, I know you hate it, but it's an appropriate time for it. It's not a pity gesture, okay? I'm just looking out for you”, Thankfully your phone vibrated and took you away from the conversations. “Ohhh? You got another match?” Chan immediately leaned to see your phone screen notification. “It's the same match from last month, she's a piece of art I tell you that much”, A smile forms on your face as you see the mystery girl has texted you. “Come on man, I want to see”, You immediately pull away your phone, “Nuh uh, you gotta respect our privacy here”, Chan frowned at you. “Bro, the chat is already anonymous, come on, let me see”, You sighed, “One picture, that's it”, He smiled again.

You show him a picture the girl has sent you, a picture of her tits. “Bro, how the fuck do you keep getting those milfs. Be honest with me, do you know the admins?” You just shrugged, “Life, uhhh, equalise things”, No family, no money, no academic achievement, but hey at least you keep getting some nice hook ups here and there. “Yeah, such a nice gesture from the universe. Come on, are you going for a drink or not?” You think for a second, your boys or a sexy mysterious milf? “I'll pass for tonight”, Chan grinned at your shamelessness. “I'll remember this, you picked Joe's before bros”, He yelled at you as you walked away. 

PurpleBunny: I did it.

You raised your eyebrow, intrigued.

PorkCrackling: Show me, you know I need proof for this type of stuff.

You waited for a few minutes before she sent you a picture. It was a picture of her spread ass cheeks with a butplug in her asshole.

PorkCrackling: That's boring, where's the picture of you wearing it at work

PurpleBunny: How am I supposed to take that picture?

PorkCrackling: Well, you said you work in a private office. So pull down your pants, or pull up your skirt, and show me this picture while you're wearing your office uniform.

PurpleBunny: No way, that's easily tracked back to me.

PorkCrackling: I know you're right, and I hate it. So I'll just take your word for it.

PurpleBunny: Thank you master.

PorkCrackling: How does it feel working with that in your ass?

PurpleBunny: It felt weird, and exciting.

PorkCrackling: Does anyone notice any different behaviour from you?

PurpleBunny: None, I hide it very well.

PorkCrackling: Good girl, should we move to the next step?

PurpleBunny: Yes please, I'm so excited.

PorkCrackling: Which one should we start first? Your anal training? Or your voyeurism?

PurpleBunny: Do I have to do voyeurism? Can I just do anal?

PorkCrackling: Hey, you said it yourself sweetie, you like it when people look at you.

PurpleBunny: I mean yeah, but I don't want to do it at my work. It's too risky.

PorkCrackling: Why is that?

You waited for her answer while looking at the picture she just sent you. Goddamn she has a nice ass, her body is a full package, it makes you wonder how she looks. 

PurpleBunny: I work at a university.

PorkCrackling: Oh? A professor?

PurpleBunny: Yeah, you could say that.

PorkCrackling: So, on a daily basis you are being watched by a bunch of thirsty college boys? Must be a fun job huh?

PurpleBunny: Sometimes, it's too much, but yeah I like it when they check me out, although it felt so wrong.

PorkCrackling: Such a slut, fine then, let's do your anal training first. Let's do some simple things first. Buy a lube, use the dildo you bought last week. Send me a video of you using that in your ass.

PurpleBunny: Okay master, I'll get to it as soon as possible 💜💜💜

PorkCrackling: Good girl

PurpleBunny: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

You laughed seeing her texts, how come someone at her age, probably 20-30s judging from her flawless skin, could be so immature. Why is she even asking this type of thing from you? The website you used is some anonymous hookup website used by a bunch of sex addicts. Yes, Chan is right, you do know one of the admins, he gave you an account to use there. You've had some encounters with a bunch of girls already, a single mother desperate for some relief, a soon to be married woman asking for some advice, a college chick who gave you a surprise threesome with her roommate. It's all fun and games, yet this one really doesn't want to reveal her identity, not even a name. She started texting you as if she's in a confessional booth for satan where she keeps talking about her sexual fantasies.

It was boring honestly, you use the website for a hookup, not kinky chat. Then she sends a picture of her tits, so you can't really pass up such an enticing meal can't you? Maybe, if you keep corrupting her you can eventually convince her to meet up. Your phone vibrates again, checking the notifications, you see that the mystery lady has sent you a video of her masturbating while moaning “master” a few times. “Fucking hell, just give up and hook up with me already”, It's a good video, a decent material for, relaxation.

The next day, you reluctantly went to school, checking on your mom before you leave is a bad idea, “You should've fucking die with your brother. Fucking useless meatbag”, Always pleasant to hear from her. Highschool sucks, the worst part is you know it wasn’t that bad, you just want to make it harder for yourself. “You're 2 hours late to school”, Your homeroom teacher yells at you. “It's history and geography, I'm not sitting in class to hear all that boring stuff”, You can clearly see his frustration. “Listen, I know your bother-” Your hand immediately slammed the table out of instinct, “Don't try to use that on me. If you say he's disappointed in me then you better zip it up”, He sighed and just shook his head.

“You have a future, you know that? It might seem bleak but there's still hope in it, and I hate that you're throwing it all away. I can't say that I know what you're feeling, but I know anger, I know all that pent up rage is eating you from the inside. I know it's hard for me to ask you to change, but can I ask you to try?” Father figures, that's what a rebellious kid like you needed, “How?” Thankfully you're smart enough to know it. “Talk to our counsellors, let's start with that”, That could work, maybe talking to some professional help is better than talking to some random strangers on the internet. “Fine, but I'm not going to detention”, It was a good offer, “Stop whining, go to the detention room”, It was not convincing enough. 

You reluctantly left to the detention class, it's always nice when the school rewards you for skipping class by making you skip more classes. Once you get there you see your school pals, Yujin, “What are you doing here?” She smiled the moment she saw you, “I forgot to set the alarm and woke up late, you?” You sat down next to her, “Ahhh you know, making fun of Miss Chaeyeon’s divorce”, Yujin is your friend alright, but that's because she actually spent a lot of time with you at the detention room. She's less self aware about her situation in life. “Sit down and shut up, you two know the rule already”, Your detention teacher, Miss Taeyeon walks in and glared at the two of you.

The detention was fine, boring most of the time, it was unlucky since Miss Taeyeon was the one who got the shift so you can't really do much with Yujin. The lunch came around, just like usual you went to a secluded place near the football field to have some peaceful lunch. This school, it's quite prestigious which means the grade and academic achievement are pretty important here. You, being an idiot rebel, are an outcast. Your only friend, Yujin, is actually pretty popular. She's not an idiot like you, she's actually doing fine with her grades, she's just a sociopath who hates every teacher in the school. 

Thankfully you didn't really have to spend your lunch alone, well you do physically, but mentally you're being accompanied by none other than PurpleBunny. It seems she is having a boring day at work and decided to chat with you. It's a nice conversation, although she doesn't want to reveal a single information about her identity she seems to like talking about her feelings and desires. Just as you expected, she is a very uptight woman at work, her life is seemingly perfect, her childhood sounds joyful and peaceful. It's very enviable really, it really made you want to corrupt her even further. Hey, if she's rich you can try to extort her for money, sure your admin friend is gonna hire a hitman on your ass but it's worth it right?

In the end, you just ask her for some pictures to entertain you, it's always nice to see boobs. “Pervert”, It's not nice when someone notices you staring at them, “What are you doing here?” Yujin doesn't answer your question and just looks back at the picture on your phone. “What kind of pervert watches porn in the middle of school?” She sat down next to you. “I'm not watching porn, I'm just, learning biology”, She rolled her eyes at your witty attempt, “Heard about your brother by the way, hope you're doing alright”, Yujin leaned at the wall as she looked to the sky. “Yeah, that's just life you know”, The two of you stay silent for a while, just enjoying the sun.

“So who's tits are those? They're massive”, Right, despite being your pals, you and Yujin aren't exactly close pals. “Some random girl I match up with, no it's not Tinder, it's a website similar to that but it's dedicated solely for hooking up”, Yujin raised her eyebrow. “Ohhh? Here I thought you are too scared with that kind of stuff”, Yujin scoffed at you. “Why on earth would you think that way?” Well, you actually have a clue on why, “Because you never made a move on me dude. I thought you were gay or something”, You slapped her for that. 

“I didn't make a move, because you're not my type”, You said blatantly staring at her chest, “Heeh, it's bigger than their look you know”, Yujin proudly groped her own breast. “Are they this big?” You opened your phone again, “Hell no, do I look like a cow to you?” You wish she was. “What? What's with that look? I have other assets to flaunt”, Yujin suddenly stood up in front of you before turning around. “Well, it looks very nice”, You laughed seeing her bent down and show you her ass, it’s an invitation, or a dare. Of course, you took it, both of your hands immediately grabbed her ass and squeezed it, “Very firm too”, You even slapped it before letting go. “See? Ass over boobs. Women are born with their boobs size, but they can train their ass. Judging a girl by their boobs size is like a girl judging a guy by their height”, Yujin turned back around and flicked your nose. “Just because I'm short doesn't mean you can use it for your argument”, Yujin shrugged before pulling you up.

“Come with me after school, my house is empty today”, You should be a little scared or at least cautious of how eager she is, “I have a meeting with the school counsellor after class, so send me your address and I'll ‘visit’ you later”, You're actually scared? Fucking pussy. “Lame, fine, but the longer you keep me waiting the higher my expectations will be”, Yujin check your body out for a second. “Fuck it”, She said under her breath before pushing you to the wall and make out with you. Her hand seemingly enjoys your abs and her tongue is aggressively intruding your mouth. The heated make out ends quite quickly however, Yujin just pulls back as abruptly as how she initiated the kiss.

“You're good”, She licked her lips like a hungry predator, “You're down bad, next class is starting and I'm not going to get another lecture for skipping it so let's move”, Yujin frowned but she walked with you anyway. The two of you separate ways to your respective classes, and thus a boring time falls upon you. As the school ends your homeroom teacher immediately picks you up from your own class to make sure you didn't try to run. “Do you know who our counsellor is?” That's a good question, “No”, Like why would you know that? You barely remember the school's name.

“It's Miss Kwon, our principal, so you better behave because even I can't protect you from her”, Here's a better question actually, why is he so adamant on helping you? “Ahhh you're here, please follow me”, The question can wait, there's a smoking hot lady talking to you. “Who are you?” You felt a sharp pain from your hand due to your homeroom teacher's slap, what is his name anyway? “It’s okay Minho, you can call me Miss Eunbi if you like, your teacher said you'll be having a talk with me”, Hmmmm, she's very hot, how come you never notice her existence in the school. “Nice to meet you ma'am”, Your homeroom teacher slapped his head, “I'm sorry ma'am, he's…… different”, Eunbi just smiled at him before turning her attention back to you. “Well, let's not waste time, please follow me young man”

Eunbi led you to her office, “Please have a seat, make yourself comfortable”, She pointed at the couch, you took her advice and just lay on it. “Okay, so……this is a therapy session?” Eunbi smiled hearing your question before sitting on the couch near yours. “Well, I do have the licence for it, would you like to have one right now? If you do then I'll have to do some paperwork for legal reasons”, A therapy session with this hot chick will be fun. “Is it free?” She laughed at your question, making you frown. “Oh sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you. Yes it's free, I do some therapy sessions with some of the students here as well”, Is that legal? Or ethical? Isn't there some conflict of interest since she's also your principal? Ahhhhh, don't think about it too much.

“Sure, why not”, Eunbi smiled and took out some paper, then she started saying some stuff about the privacy of the session and you know, all those formalities she had to say in order to start the therapy session. “So, where should we start?” Where should you start actually? “My brother died but too long ago”, Eunbi nods her head,  “I've heard, I'm sorry for your loss”, It's either she cares or she's good at acting like she cares because her tone sounds genuine. “I've seen this coming from long ago, it sucks but it's not like I wasn't prepared for it”, How cold, don't you love your brother? “Really? What makes you say that?” Eunbi starts writing her notes. “Because he's a fucking crack addict. He's gonna die either because he took too much or because he tried to steal some crack from his supplier”, Eunbi seems surprised with this information.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry, I didn't know”, There's a hint of guilt and concern in her tone, “Yeah well, like I said, I'm not too bummed out about it”, Eunbi continued scribbling on her notes. “Well, how is your relationship with your brother?” It was a nice session, you don't really have friends who you feel comfortable sharing stuff with, so having someone to talk to like this makes you feel, delighted. Throughout the session you made some not so subtle attempt at checking her out. She's kinda hot, nice body proportions, beautiful face, flawless skin. In fact, being a pervert who likes to undress women with your eyes, you can quickly tell, her body is very similar to PurpleBunny. The baggy and thick sweater she wore made her cup size questionable.

“I guess there's where we will end our session”, She either doesn't realise it or she doesn't care, and if the latter then the chances of her being PurpleBunny would rise significantly. “It's a weird feeling”, She raised her eyebrow hearing you, “Why is that?” If she leans a little closer you might be able to glance down her cleavage. “Nothing, it's the first time I tried this and I didn't know what I expected”, Eunbi smiled at you reassuringly. “Well, I will say it's been a very successful first meeting for us. Would you like to have another soon?” Being close with her can help you itch your curiosity, so you set up another meeting on Friday.

After she lets you go, you immediately check your phone and see Yujin has sent you her address. “What a slut”, She also sent nude pictures asking you to come faster. Although you're very excited to release some stress, your mind was distracted with a text from your anonymous milf.

PurpleBunny: I have the lube, I will send you the video tonight 😘

PorkCrackling: Send me some pics

PurpleBunny: I can't, I'm still at work, I'll send some later master 😉

You walk to Yujin's place, and just as you expected, she's a fucking rich girl. You knock on the door and a housemaid greets you, she leads you through the mansion and leaves you in front of the bedroom door. Walking in you see Yujin is sitting on her bed, her eyes immediately give you some stingy looks, “Fucking hell, what took you so long?” She said before she started undressing. “I was having a deep emotional talk with Miss Eunbi. She's kinda fucking hot you know? I didn't know we had a sexy milf for a principal”, Yujin rolled her eyes. “She's a fucking whore, you know she likes to flaunt her tits to the school? Bet she got turned on being checked on by boys half her age”, That sounds familiar, although you can't really trust Yujin’s judgement regarding older people, teachers specially.

“Stop looking at me like that and just come here on the bed already, or….. are you scared?” Yujin, already fully naked, is laying on the bed, while you're just judging her silently. “Come on now, turn around, I want to see your ass more than your face”, She clicked her tongue before going on all four facing away from you. “You’re stalling too much dumbass, hurry up before- ahhhhh,”, Yujin didn't get to finish her words as your hand started to rub her pussy. “So fucking wet already? Were you thinking about me this whole time?” You leaned in and whispered in her ears. “You think I'm into dirty talk?” It's always fun playing with a brat doesn't it?

“Fuck, what was that for?” Yujin moaned as she felt a sharp pain on her ass cheek, “You have a nice ass you know? Very tempting to spank”, You raised your hand and spanked her again, “Fuck stop that”, Yujin growled. “Why? You don't like being the sub here?” You spanked her again making her body shivers, “Fuck you”, Yujin moaned as she felt your finger starts to penetrate her. “Goddamn, you have such a nice ass”, You spank her again, but this time you grabbed it and squeezed it hard, “Is that all you can do? Foreplay and dirty talk? What a……. Fuckkkkk”, She can't finish her sentences as you start using your mouth to tease her asshole.

“God, fucking, shit, since when are you, ahhhhhhh…… fuck, since when are you so good”, Yujin, despite her demeanour, is not exactly experienced in this type of stuff. Her previous experiences was mostly with guys whose too scared and intimidated by her so they fuck up a lot. Not you though, you love seeing her like this, hearing the bitchy girl struggle to say anything else other than moans bring a sense of accomplishments inside you. “Goddamnit just fuck me already”, Yujin moaned, “Say please”, You laughed, Yujin clicked her tongue, clearly not enjoying the teasing you had with her. “Fine, can you please for the love of god just give me your cock”, You can barely contain your laughter hearing how goofy it sounds.

Standing up, you immediately lose your outfit, “You got some pills right?” Yujin nodded while she pressed her ass to your erect cock. “Holy fuck”, She moaned before turning around, her eyes locked with your dick. “How is that thing real?” Good is fair after all, he gave you a broken family and an abusive mom, but at least you got a big cock, and plenty of opportunities to use it. “Hehehe, is this your first time?” Yujin frowned upon hearing your question, “You think I'm a virgin? Haaa, unlike you I have guys lining- Haaaaaa”, You suddenly plunge your cock deep and shut her up, “Fuck, you felt like a virgin”, Her walls are so tight you can barely fit half of your cock in.

“Hhhnnnggg, thanksss”, Yujin moaned as her leg started to quiver, “Are you cumming already?” You spanked her ass making her tighten her pussy even more. “Stop…… talking, and….. start moving”, Yujin struggle to stop herself from moaning, “You sure?” This time she start silent for a second. She calms her breathing down for a second before nodding. There's a problem through, she didn't expect you still have more to shove in her so when you start pushing deeper Yujin let out a pained moan, “Fuck, there's more?” She grunted, your hand reached out and caressed her head. “Calm down princess, just relax for a second”, You can feel her pussy tightening again the moment you call her princess. “Ahhhhh, take it slow please”, She said meekly.

You smile feeling victorious, then you start moving slowly, a cacophony of moans keeps pouring out of Yujin's mouth. Once your hips finally meet with hers, Yujin can't contain her orgasm and just starts cumming all over her bed, soaking your thighs. “God, you're even worse than a virgin. I know you've always had a stick up your ass, guess it's just pent up stress isn't it?” You bite her ears as her body starts shaking. “Just fucking shut up already”, She groaned, you raised your hand and just spank her again, this made Yujin let out a protest moan but she doesn't say anything else.

Slowly you start moving, gently pulling back and thrusting forward. Yuji puts her head down as she struggles to make any coherent sound. For a while there were no words exchanged between the two of you, only moans and grunts. Thankfully Yujin doesn't take too long in order to get used to your size. Quite quickly you pick up your pace and start pounding her. No words have been said yet, only moans after moans followed by the sounds of flesh slapping against each other. “Fuck, I'm cumming”, Yujin finally broke the silence as another wave of ecstasy washes over her. 

“Are you asking for permission?” You tease her, Yujin glanced back at you with anger. Her looks don't last long as she immediately starts quivering. As the second orgasm passes you can feel her body relaxed even further, making it easy for you to pound her even faster. Watching her ass jiggle every time your hips slam into it has caused your hand to move by itself and spanking her occasionally. Every time your palm delivers a powerful slap her mouth let out a moan and you can feel her pussy tightening around you. 

Yujin is slowly losing her mind, she can't even hold herself up as your hand wrapping around her hips is the only thing stopping her from laying flat on the bed. The pounding you gave her only got more aggressive seeing how limp she has become. “Tired princess?” Yujin hates to admit it, but when you call her princess there's this little funny feeling growing in her stomach. She hates it, and she hates how you notice those little feelings. With great determination she pushes her body up, with every last ounce of her strength she moves her hips to match yours, trying to show you she isn't some spoiled princess who can't do anything. 

Her struggle is kinda cute for you, out of decency you slow down your pace just enough so she can follow your rhythm. Yujin feels her body is on fire, beads of sweat start dripping down her forehead, pooling down on her pillow that's already stained due to her drooling. “Are you close?” She tried to sound tough, yet those words ended up sounding like a desperate whimper which painted her true feelings. “Maybe? I'll cum sooner if you beg for it”, You grinned seeing Yujin helpless body struggling to continue. “Pleaseeeee, cum inside me, I'm getting close too, if you keep going I might pass out”, She managed to say those words although not having to face you directly greatly helps. 

“Come on, one more time”, You leaned forward and kissed her ear, “Fuck, please cum inside me already, fill me up with your thick, warm cum. I need it, please”, Now she actually sounds like a spoiled princess. It works, you can feel your balls tightening ready to shoot your sperm and paints her inside, “Fuck, I'm cumming Yujin”, Yujin was struggling to not pass out, yet the second she felt a sudden warmth feeling up her inside her body went to overdrive as she had her third orgasm. You emptied your load deep inside her as Yujin dropped her head to her pillow and let out a muffled groan. 

As you finished filling her up your body slumped down next to her, you were too excited to notice how tiring that sex was. Yujin was glancing at you, there's disdain in her eyes yet she looks so cute that you can't stop yourself from caressing her head. “I always knew you were a princess”, Yujin headbutted you, “Don't you ever call me that again”, It was meant to hurt you, thankfully she didn't break your nose or something like that. “You like it when I call you that, just admit it”, You decided to test your fate by spanking her ass. “I will kill you”, You tested your fate again by laughing at her threat. “This is fun Yujin, we should do this more”, Your hand can't help but caress and massage her butt, “I hate you”, God she's so cute.

“Well, I like you”, You leaned in and kissed her, Yujin felt her body freeze the moment you kissed her. A torrent of emotions flooded her, cracking the wall of her ego. Her hands tried to push you away but she's too weak to do anything, so you grabbed her and pulled her on top of you. Your hand happily playing with her ass while your tongue is fighting for dominance against hers. Being in your arms, having you play with her body because you knew she can't do anything, it really pisses Yujin off. Yet the feeling of being dominated like this is really good. You haven't broken her wall down, but there's enough crack there for you to slither in the future.

As the kiss ended Yujin gasped for air, her body trembling out of ‘rage’ or so she labels, truthfully she felt so excited from your actions. “We should roll together”, Yujin frowned but she can't bring herself to reject that invitation. “I'll do it, only if you treat me like an equal. You're not the Dom in this relationship but you're too proud to admit it. So let's just be an equal”, She's projecting a lot, “Whatever you want princess”, She frowned at you. “And don't call me that”, Perhaps she will soon realise her frowning face is a cute invitation for you to kiss her. “Fuck you can't just kiss me every time you want to shut me-”, You kissed her again. She pulls away and tries to protest but you grab her and kiss her again. This goes on for a while until she finally relent and let you make out with her.

In the end Yujin just lay on her bed, facing away from you but eagerly pushed her body on to yours as you cuddled her from behind. “Is your parents gonna kill me if I stay any longer?” Hopefully her parents are as ignorant about her sex life as your mom is to you. “They're not home, they never do”, For a moment you heard a fragile little girl crying for help, an opportunity to grab her by the neck and make her your toy. “Do you want me to stay the night?” You can try to tease her by kissing her shoulder but maybe that would make her kick you out. Yujin doesn't say anything, she just silently closes her eyes and tries to get some rest. 

The two of you fell asleep until late at night, at that point you felt kinda hungry, “No, go out and find your own food”, Yujin wants this to be casual. Having dinner together at her house is not casual, that's romantic, and she's too scared to start that, even if her heart really wants to. “Well then, see you later princess”, Yujin frowned again, it's less out of anger and more of annoyance, she then pushed you away from her bed before getting dressed. 

“Yo, where you at”, It's midnight, so there's not many places you can dine in, of course your dumbass group of misfits always wakes up late and explores the city. “We’re eating ramen, come”, Chan said with his mouth full of food, “Bet”, It's a cold and lonely night, the type you love the most. During your walk you check your phone and see PurpleBunny is looking for you. You send her some message saying you're busy with some stuff right now. After chatting with her for a while you know she never wakes up this late, she's a ‘professor’ after all. The night passes by uneventfully, your friends are a bunch of college kids and unemployed bastards so they tend to wake up till morning. 

“Fuck so you're gonna introduce her to us or what?” Chan said, you've told your friend about Yujin before, they seem to think you have some romantic attraction towards her. Although it's understandable where that thought came from, it still rubs you the wrong way. “I think she's gonna bring too much chaos to this”, That's a terrible excuse, your group is the most chaotic shit you've ever been a part of. “Alright kiddo, if you're too shy you just say it next time”, You didn't bother entertaining them further and just had your dinner.

Coming back home, you find your mom passed out on the couch. It's an everyday sight for you at this point, and it pisses you a lot. You remember how grand Yujin's house is, and now coming back to this dumpster of a ‘home’ made you curse the world for making you born into this ‘family’. “Haaa, fuck it”, There's no point mourning over things you can't change, you left your mom in the couch, bathed in alcohol and her own vomit to get some rest for the night.

The next day, school goes by like usual, nothing changed, except for Yujin's demeanour around you. “Jesus, can you not breathe so loud? You're fucking annoying you know that?” It causes some of her friends to distance themselves from the two of you. “You're so cute when you're being shy like this”, Yujin blushes for a second before she starts slapping you, “Don't. You. Fucking. Call. Me. That. Again”, Every word laced with pure anger. “Come on princess, I'm not you, I don't have a hidden masochist kink inside me”, Your laugh only made her enraged even more. The ‘assault’ was so bad a teacher had to step in and pull her off.

You find this whole thing to be amusing, Yujin being too enraged to say something to ease the situation makes the teacher think you two are having a genuine fight. “Alright that's it, you two come with me to the teacher's office”, Of course the lovely Miss Taeyeon decides to take this whole comical situation seriously. As you and Yujin walk together you see her glaring at you, “Since when are you so sensitive with words? I thought you always said don't throw any punches if you can't take them”, Pointing out her little hypocrisy almost made her lose her mind. “I'll fucking ruin you”, And just like that you got an invitation to her house again, she's so easy to play with. 

Taeyeon brought the two of you to her office, she sat you down in front of her before opening her laptop. “I've had it with you two, why can't you spend one day, just one day without causing any trouble”, Taeyeon shakes her head, for a while the room went silent with nothing but the sounds of her typing on her keyboard. “Explain yourself, Yujin you started this, what happened?” Taeyeon glares at Yujin who just scoffed, “It's not important”, Taeyeon knows there's pretty much all she can get from Yujin so she turns to you. “It was a friendly scuffle, I don't know why everyone suddenly got so worked up”, She looked at you coldly, “Whatever it was, fights are not acceptable in this school. So either you two do a better job at convincing me that it's not a fight or I'll suspend both of you”, You can't say no to some free vacation…… and it seems neither does Yujin.

“I….. really can't with the two of you right now”, Taeyeon rubbed her forehead out of frustration seeing that you and Yujin stayed quiet. “It's personal okay? But I promise you it was not a fight, we were just…..”, You glanced at Yujin who’s ready to maul you, “Joking”, Your return her glare with a smile. “Don't tell me it's a couple's quarrel”, Yujin frowned hearing Taeyeon's words, “Well, not a ‘couple’ just yet so-”, You can't really finish your words because Yujin suddenly slapped your head. “Jesus fucking Christ, the two trouble kids are dating now”, You can hear the frustration grow even more within Taeyeon's voice. “We are not dating”, Yujin stomps her leg to the girls before rudely leaving the room.

Left alone with Taeyeon, you gave her a shrug, “She's kinda shy about it”, Taeyeon shakes her head. “I'll let you off this once, I saw everything and you don't seem to fight back. But for the love of god do not bring your lover’s problem to school”, You nod completely uninterested in her words. “Are you gonna send me home now?” Taeyeon glared at you, “No, go back to class, and after school you will report back to me for another detention”, Well fuck, there goes your plan for the day….. Do you have plans for the day? Anyway, the school went by uneventfully after that, Yujin was nowhere to be seen and you heard she just decided to go home.

Let's move the other person who is having an eventful day, Eunbi. She recognises that this is probably a bad idea, but after yesterday she decided to check on your family situation. She was prepared for the worst, yet when she arrived at your house she realised it was worse than what she expected. You live in the ‘slums’, the place was so bad she felt someone might just kidnap her right there and then. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Thankfully she went with your over caring homeroom teacher, Mister Minho. “I think, I need to at least see for myself how bad it was”, He nodded and knocked on your front door.

There was no answer for a while so he knocked again, and no answer again, so he knocked again and this time the two of them heard a shout from the inside. “Fuck off”, The two exchanged a glance, “Good morning ma'am, we're from your son’s school, can we talk for a moment”, There wasn't any answer but they could hear a bunch of noise from the inside. The door finally opened, the first thing they noticed was the sickening smell of vomit and alcohol, then they saw your mom who looked like she just got out of a trash can. “Who the fuck are you two fancy pants”, Eunbi put on a friendly smile, “Good morning ma'am, sorry to bother you, this is Minho, your son's homeroom teacher and I am Eunbi, the school's principal. Can we talk for a moment?” Your mom looks at her two uninvited guests, “You can talk from here”, Honestly, from the little glimpse they get from the outside, they prefer to not walk inside as well. 

“Well it's about your son, yesterday he had skipped some morning classes…..” Minho starts talking about what you did yesterday, then Eunbi follows up about the therapy session she had with you. Eunbi hides everything about the talk but still talks about how you seem to be pretty shaken by your brother's death, although you never admit it. Throughout the talk they notice how uninterested your mom is, she even walks inside at one point and starts drinking some liquor from a half empty bottle. “So? What does this have to do with me?” Your mom said as they finished their stories, “Well, as his councillor I would like to ask, how has he acted around the house? Especially after your oldest son's death”, Eunbi felt like this is a stupid question, “I don't fucking know”, And she stands corrected. “Listen you fucking retards, I don't give a shit about him, so don't fucking come here and waste my time. Fucking comeback if he got expelled or if he died”, She spit on their feet before slamming the door in front of them.

The two stand there silently for a while, “This is disturbing”, Eunbi nods at Minho's words, this is problematic. “This is, worse than what I expected, far worse”, How can she help you with therapy when you're living in this shithole with that ignorant mother of yours. “Should we call the authorities or something?” Eunbi shakes her head, reluctantly, “Unfortunately he's already 18 so the authorities can't do much as he's no longer considered a child. Besides, I think I need to talk to him again to make sure he doesn't find what we're doing here to be, intruding and overbearing”, Minho sighed, why does he care so much about you anyway? “Yeah, let's go back to school”

Eunbi gets back to her office and stresses out over you, she felt, helpless. There's just this thing about you that evokes pity inside her, something that she has understood would make you angry. Unfortunately she can't help you that much, so for now she just prepares a few questions and notes for your next session. Eunbi took a look at her phone to find her chatting with PorkCrackling, it was a little disappointing that he didn't answer her last night, after all she was so excited to show him her experiment last night. Eunbi's mind floated off to last night when she finally tried anal. The weird yet enjoyable feelings of her asshole being intruded by the massive dildo she had bought weeks prior was intoxicating. 

She reads back your chats with her, at first it was a little awkward as she started using the website not to find hookups, but a release for her sexual fantasies. Thankfully PorkCrackling seems to find it fun and just goes along the ride. The first thing they did was some sexting, which was super hot for her. Then it starts to grow apparent how dominant the guy really is which made her even more turned on. The two of them quickly find their dynamics, he becomes the master and she becomes the kinky slave. When he first asked for a picture she was reluctant, but her excitement overcame her and so she sent a picture of her boobs. From there it only went downhill, deeper into the abyss of depravity and lust. 

It felt arousing, sending pictures like that to him, his compliments and comments about how her pics are a perfect jerk off material made her happy. Even though Eunbi is used to being checked out, just the feeling of sending her private pictures to a total stranger really excites her. Every time she sends him a picture he always replies back with some very dirty messages about all the things he wants to do to her. Slowly her guard is crumbling down, the idea of meeting this mysterious man becomes more and more appealing by the day. As she scrolls down her text she notices that he never really sends any pictures of himself. She never really minds it, after all how could a good slave ask anything from her master. However since the idea of meeting him in person has become a plausible next step of their relationship, Eunbi can't help but feel curious on what to expect. Would he be able to live up the expectations she has set in her mind? Or would he falter and ruin the dream image she has made up? Shaking her head, Eunbi felt determined to ask him for one, even if he wasn't really that impressive, just the conversation alone is fun for her.

As you are busy trying to sneakily play with your phone in the middle of class you find a text from your obedient slave. It was a cute and anxious chat asking for a picture from you as a change. Fuck it just whip out your dick and send it to her? Although, if she is really Eunbi, wouldn't she notice the uniform you're wearing? It would be fun wouldn't it, would she freak out? Would she get consumed by her depravity and get turned on by the idea of having this relationship with her own student?

You're too curious to pass up on such an opportunity, so you quickly went to the bathroom and sent her a text, asking for a picture to get you hard. Eunbi panicked for a second seeing your text, after all she's still not sure of taking a picture in the middle of her office during work time. Thankfully she took quite a lot of them last night when she was experimenting, so she sends all of them to you. Those pictures are enough to make you feel somewhat regretful that you spend the night cuddling with Yujin instead of just sexting. “Goddamnit, now I'm actually hard”, Jerking off in the school bathroom sounds like a bad idea, but fuck it why not. 

First you set up the stage, take off your uniform to make sure you didn't ruin them, get in a comfortable position, then you start masturbating. You took a few pictures of your cock, and even sent a video of your ejaculation. Carefully making sure that it doesn't show more than just a glimpse or a little part of your uniform. After you clean up you carefully check the video and pictures before sending it to her and go back to your class as if nothing happened. The moment Eunbi checked them she became mesmerised. No wonder you asked her to get a big dildo, you've been preparing her to take your full length. You weren't being subtle about wanting to meet up with her eventually, it was pretty obvious by your text. Yet the idea of her being corrupted to be your actual sex slave was so hot. All this time you weren't just helping her with her fantasies, you were also preparing her to be a prefect fuck you for you.

Her mind is fogged by arousal, it distracts her from most of her work to the point that she has to leave early and spend the day just masturbating to your cock. That's it, she can't prolong the meeting any longer, she wants you deep inside her, she wants that ‘thing’ to split her apart and ruin her inside. You never really say anything about your identity, Eunbi only knows you're busy during the day with stuff and she doesn't pry into it. Thankfully she spent so long just masturbating that once she's done it's already dark outside, which means you're free.

PurpleBunny: You convince me, let's meet up master.

PorkCrackling: Ohhhh? So eager? I should've send you some pictures from the start if I know it was that easy

PurpleBunny: Maybe you should've master, your cock, is gorgeous

PorkCrackling: Huh, first time I ever heard someone describe it as that. 

PurpleBunny: 😚

PorkCrackling: Come on, first show me the videos, those pictures are hot but I want to see you pleasuring yourself with that dildo.

Eunbi then sends the video, it was super scuffed, after all she's trying really hard not to show her face. However, it's also one of the hottest videos you've ever watched.

PorkCrackling: Good girl, but the cinematography is wack, maybe next time you can show yourself? After all, we're meeting up soon.

PurpleBunny: Maybe next time 😉

PorkCrackling: When do you want to meet?

PurpleBunny: Well, tomorrow I have some meetings after work so Saturday is fine.

PorkCrackling: So the meeting, are we talking about getting to know each other meet up or just, straight up sex?

PurpleBunny: I want to have a little talk first before we go back to my place.

PorkCrackling: Oh? A date? Sounds like a pretty big switch up after your ‘full anonymous’ policy.

PurpleBunny: I'm just a little on edge, I need some relief.

PorkCrackling: So desperate, I'll do it if you go to work without underwear tomorrow. 

PurpleBunny: Do I have to?

PorkCrackling: Go without underwear, send a few pictures for me tomorrow throughout the day.

PurpleBunny: Okay fine, I'll see you Saturday master 💜💜💜

Seeing her accepting the command made you happy, now you just need to wait for tomorrow when you can match her outfits. However your happiness is short-lived as you come home and find your dead beat of a mother puking in your living room. It's not just the stench but the fact that she never cleaned it made you feel icky. This whole house is now just a ground zero for the next plague that would wipe half of the world population. “You, fucking useless bastard”, It's a rare occasion that she acknowledged your existence, something must've happened while you were gone. “Your fucking retarded teachers fucking come here and ruin my fucking day”, A day she spent productively surely. Although, who came to your house earlier today? And why? Is it your new therapist? Is it your new father figure? “Not my fucking fault”, You left her in the living room as she continue cursing you. The next day, need to come sooner.

“Fuck I feel like such a slut”, The idea of going to work without underwear really does feel hot, so even though Eunbi doesn't like it, her lust side just won her over. She tried to wear some baggy sweater to hide her jugs yet it turns out to be a bad idea since her sweater just rubs against her nipple making her body feel hot. The sweater is very thick so her erect nipple doesn't show through it, but it also means she can't concentrate at all due to the never ending stimulation. Just as promised, she sent a few video and pictures showing you that she is following your command. 

Unfortunately you can't check them due to a very pissed off girl. “I hate you so much”, Yujin has dragged you out to the rooftop at lunch to dump all her anger towards you. “Really? So you didn't miss me at all after ghosting me yesterday?” You smiled at her, Yujin grabbed your collar before pushing you to the wall, she's taller than you, well you're pretty short so almost everyone is taller than you. “Fuck you”, It seems one day has made her forgot how dangerous you are, the moment she lock you to the wall you just leaned in and kissed her. The kiss really hit her at the right spot, so despite her hatred Yujin can't help but lower her hand. You did a quick spin and pressed her to the wall this time, your hand slipped inside her shirt and your finger rubbed her nipples through her sports bra. “Fuck, you're such a dick”, She moaned feeling your hand playing with her tits. “Come on Yujin, stop being so edgy all the time, you like me, just admit it”, She looked at you frowning, less angry to you but towards her slow acceptance towards her feelings. 

“You said I ghost you? You didn't even bother contacting me after school”, And yes, she's also angry that you ghost her, and she's angry that she felt angry for being ghosted. She has a lot of issues. “I was busy, okay? Sorry, are you free tonight?” You cupped her face in your hand. “Tonight? Meet me after school”, Yujin is trying not to blush but the warmth she feels on her cheeks is making it hard. “I need to do something first, besides I have a therapy session with Miss Eunbi today”, Yujin frowned before slowly nodding, “Now are you gonna fuck me here or what?” You laughed and shook your head, “No, the teacher gonna kill us, besides I'm hungry”, You let go of her, “I'm not eating with you”, Yujin stomps her feet before storming away.

Thankfully she left you alone for the whole day, letting you check the pictures PurpleBunny has sent you. Excitement flows throughout your body, and you quickly make your way to Eunbi's office. Your heart is beating erratically, take a deep breath, calm down for a second. “Yes?” Eunbi said as she heard someone knock on her door, she opened the door to find you, with your usual distant and bored look. “Oh, good afternoon sweetie, what brings you here?” You flinched hearing her call you, “Am I having a therapy session after class?” Your eyes travel around her body, same sweater, in fact with one of the videos providing a little view of the background you easily match it with the bookshelves she had in her office. 

“Of course, I'll see you after class okay?” Eunbi smiles, then she notices a sudden change in your gaze, some weird sensation washes over her body as if something is telling her to run. “Okay, I'll see you after class ma'am”, A smile forms on your face before you walk away, trying your best to hide your excitement. PurpleBunny is Eunbi, your own fucking principal, holy fuck isn't it exciting? All this time you thought she had hidden her face because she was ugly or something, but no, it was really just for her identity. Fuck she also lied about being a professor, of course she did, it sounds so much worse if a principal said that she got turned on by her highschool students checking her out. God, the world is so small isn't it? Perhaps the universe does have a sense of humour. Actually, you just realised, Eunbi was wearing a skirt, if she's not wearing panties, then wouldn't you be able to sneak some peek later? You should ask her if she's wearing anything underneath there.

PurpleBunny: I think it's a mistake wearing this sweater.

PorkCrackling: It's too baggy, you should've worn something tight.

PurpleBunny: I'm not ready for that 😔

PorkCrackling: You've only sent the pictures of your upper part, let me see you drenching your pants with how aroused you are.

PurpleBunny: I'm not wearing a pants ☺️

PorkCrackling: Oh? You're wearing a skirt with nothing underneath it?

PurpleBunny: Hehehe

She then sent a video of her dripping wet pussy under her table. You weren't focused on her though, you were checking her skirt and sweater, the exact same as the one Eunbi wore. The glimpse of her office is also another proof that PurpleBunny is Eunbi.

PorkCrackling: You're such a slut

PurpleBunny: 😚 Can't wait to see you soon master. I'm so horny right now I feel like we should do something fun tonight 😉

PorkCrackling: I have some plans for tonight, should I bring you some flowers for tomorrow?

PurpleBunny: Hehehe, no, what if you bring me some pork crackling instead?

PorkCrackling: I'll do it, if you bring me a live purple bunny.

PurpleBunny: That can be arranged, see you later master 😘

Finally, school ends, you immediately run to Eunbi's office, she opens the door, seemingly already waiting for you. “Come in, please take a seat”, You glanced around the hallway, there's some teachers walking around, maybe you should stall until they got home. “So, let's start our second session”, Eunbi sat in front of you, carefully crossing her legs to make sure she didn't reveal anything to you. “First off all I should start first, I'm sorry if I may be too intrusive, but me and your teacher Minho have decided to visit your house yesterday”, So it is her, and that weird guy, who probably wants to groom you or something. “I know, did you puke when you walked in?” Eunbi was surprised seeing how nonchalant you are about it. “No, we didn't come in”, She shook her head remembering how awful it seemed inside.

“Oh, must be mom then”, Hearing you talk like this made her feel sad, and you can see it. “Your mom-”, You can't afford to ruin the mood for now, “Is useless yes I know”, You need to stall without really making her feel down. “Right”, Eunbi sighed thinking you're not ready to talk about your mom yet. “Let's start with something else first then, yesterday I had some talk with my brother's friends”, The goal was to stall for time, the hurdle is the fact that you didn't realise how much you actually got impacted by your brother's death. What was supposed to be a long dragged out story about your experiences with him was slowly turning into a trauma dump session. You didn't cry, but at the end of the stories you were so emotionally exhausted that you might as well cry.

“I see, I'm glad you're brave enough to share this story with me”, Eunbi was listening so attentively that she forgot she wasn't wearing any underwear. Your eyes were fixed on her exposed pussy, she was confused about what you were looking at before it clicked inside her head. “So, that was an invitation?” You smiled, Eunbi who already closed her legs was blushing so hard she couldn't even say anything, “My god, the principal is a pervert”, Eunbi cleared her throat before gaining her composure. “So, that marks the end of our session, is there anything you want to ask me?” Her tone is stern, making sure you know she wants you to forget what you just see. “I have one actually, how do you plan on getting a live purple bunny?”

Eunbi was confused at first, then her eyes widened in disbelief. She stared at you with fear and dumbfounded expression, all this time, was it you? “I… I don't know what you mean”, It was the best she could do. “Come on if you want me to bring some pork crackling you have to bring a purple bunny, a live one”, You smile seeing how much she is in denial right now. Eunbi feels her body is drained of energy and life, all the scary and paranoid thoughts start to invade her mind. All this time, she's been having a sexual relationship with her own students. Wait, no she hasn't had sex yet, so it's not sexual, everything should be fine right? But no, even so just the fact that she's a slut behind closed doors could ruin her reputation. Not just her job but her life can be ruined forever.

“Hey, slut”, Eunbi jumped hearing how close you were, she didn't realise you moved next to her already. “N-n-n-no”, You smile seeing how red she has become, your hand grabs her bare thighs, “You have such nice thighs you know that?” Eunbi wants to push your hand away, wait, does she? Because the sensation of your hand really sends some jolt of ecstasy through her body. Seeing her having an inner struggle made you smile, you leaned closer and bite her ears before whispering into it, “Come on slut, let's do it once, you don't know how much I've been waiting for this moment”, Your breath tickles her ear making her let out a moan. “We shouldn't”, She said with a few moans, “No one would know, come on, you know you want this”, Your hand travelled up her thighs, into her skirt and carefully rubbed her wet pussy.

“No, we-, Ahhhhhhh, we can't”, Eunbi moaned again feeling your hands starts to rub her clit, “I don't think you realise, you don't really have an option here”, Eunbi felt her heart drop, she know it's true, if she pisses you off her life can be ruined. Seeing the defeated look on Eunbi's face made you feel even more horny. You started kissing her neck, your hand continue rubbing her clit, “Hhhnnnngggg, fuck, slow down”, Eunbi moaned feeling her body is giving in to her desires. “You’re so wet already, tell me slut, did anyone see your dripping wet pussy today?” You said before you continue biting her neck. “Ahhhh, no”, She moaned,  “You sound disappointed”, You pulled down her sweater, exposing her beast. “Hhhmmm, no I'm not”, You laughed before you move in front of her, “You have such a nice tits slut”, Eunbi blushed again, hearing you say those words face to face really hit differently.

You leaned down, grabbing her boobs and pulling it to your mouth, your teeth sinking into her nipple forcing Eunbi to close her mouth in order to muffle her scream. Your hand slips inside her pussy and starts fingering her aggressively. Your mouth moves to the other tits, wrapping your lips around her nipples and sucking as hard as you can like a hungry baby. Moans and whine keep escaping Eunbi's mouth as she desperately uses both of her hands to muffle them as best as she can. Not long you can hear her muffled scream as her pussy tightens around your finger. Her juices sprays to your hand and drip down the couch leaving stains, you slow down a moment waiting for her orgasm to pass.

“That was nice wasn't it?” You can't help but tease her seeing she's out of breath already, Eunbi bites her lips trying her best not to say yes. Standing up, you slowly unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants, Eunbi's eyes can't seem to leave your bulge. As you drop your pants Eunbi starts moving closer to you, seeing how eager she is you pull her head and press her face to your bulge, letting her feel your cock through the fabric of your underwear. “Come on, you know you want to”, Eunbi can feel your cock throbbing against her cheek, reluctantly she pulls down your boxer and immediately her face was hit by your erect cock. “Suck it”, Her eyes are mesmerised with your dick, her nose is inhaling the musky smell it gives and unconsciously she starts to drool.

Eunbi's hand gently wrapped around your cock, she sticks out her tongue and slowly licks the tip of your cock. All her moves were so sensual and careful as she was too scared to do something wrong. “Don't be too shy now, you've practised for this”, You caressed her cheek making her feel embarrassed and also a little giddy, she nods her head before taking your cock in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around it as her gaze is fixed into your eyes as if she was pleasing for some kind of appreciation. Slowly she lowered her head, taking your cock deeper into her mouth inch by inch. Your precum starts to leak down her tongue, the taste was heavenly for her and she starts to suck on your cock expecting more. Through some great effort she managed to swallow your whole cock down her throat, her tongue continuing licking your shaft, tracing along your veins.

“Good girl”, A look of happiness can be seen in her eyes before she quickly hides it, her head starts to bob up and down slowly. With every passing moment her move got faster and sloppier, her spit drools down her lips and coated your cock making her release some wet sounds every time she slammed her head down your shaft. Her eyes start to water, messing up her mascara as your hips start to follow her rhythm. From time to time she will stop at your tip and hungrily suck on your leaking precum while her hands start to massage your balls trying to milk them out. This is it, this is the slut you've made for the last month and she is perfect. Her eyes never leave yours even for a moment, Eunbi can't tell why, but she just feels like she needs to keep eye contact. 

“Ooohhhh fuck, you're so good at this aren't you?” Hearing your compliments made her legs start to squirm as her pussy starts to drip more juices to the couch. Her moral dilemma has become an afterthought as a new idea came to her mind. As long as she can continue pleasuring you then she can make sure you won't tell anyone about this. It was nothing but a pathetic rationalisation of her lust. Yet she doesn't care, now she only needs to focus on pleasuring you, every flinch, every moan, every grunt that you made is sending jolts of excitement throughout her body. “Ahhhh fuck Eunbi, I'm cumming”, The moment she heard that Eunbi immediately pull up her head leaving only the tip of your cock in her mouth. One of her hands starts to jerk your cock furiously while the other one is massaging your balls, feeling your hot sperm swimming around inside it. “Fuck, take it slut”, You grunted as you feel your sperm starts to shoot inside her mouth. The thick and warm cum floods inside her mouth coating every inch of her inner mouth. The taste was addicting to her, she felt desperate for more so her hands jerked you off even faster trying to milk every last drop of your cum.

As your ejaculation passed, Eunbi's mouth was filled to the brim with your sperm, some starts to drip down her lips. You pull your cock away watching her savour the taste of your cum in her mouth. Seeing that she's being watched Eunbi opened her mouth showing you that her tongue is playing around the pool of cum you've made in her mouth. “Drink them slut”, Eunbi closed her eyes as she swallow them, she can feel the thick concoctions travel down her throat leaving a warm sensation through her body. “Hhhnnnngggg”, A moan escaped her lips as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. You glanced down to see that she's having another orgasm and starts to squirt all over the floor. “Fucking hell, did you got even more pent up ever since you meet me?” Eunbi heard your question but she was too preoccupied with her own orgasm to acknowledge it. As soon as her orgasm passes, her hands start to clean up the sperm down her chin and lick them up hungrily.

When she finishes that she looks at you hoping for more, like a good little slut that she is. “Spread your leg”, You start stroking your cock preparing it for the next round. Eunbi immediately spreads her leg, her hand can't stop from fingering herself seeing your cock is regaining it's might. “Tell me how much you want it”, Eunbi felt her body quiver hearing how demanding you're being. “Please, fuck me already”, She moaned, her hand continue fingering herself while the other is playing with her breast. “Come on, you can do better than that”, You move forward and runs your cock in between her fold, “Master, please give me your big girthy cock, I need you inside me”, Her eyes is looking st you desperately as her body react to your cock rubbing against her pussy.

Without any warning you suddenly plunge your cock deep inside her all the way to the base. The sudden intrusion made her body jerked back in response followed by a pained groan. Her walls tightening around you and enveloping your cock with her warmth. Her body shakes violently as loud cries escape her lips. You immediately took your boxer and shove it to her face to silence her down as she went through yet another orgasm. Eunbi bite down into it as she continue groaning, you didn't bother to let her have her orgasm peacefully and just start fucking her roughly. In Eunbi's mind her lies crumble down, she can't say she's doing all this for her own reputation when her body is screaming in ecstasy like this.

Eunbi throws away her moral dilemma, it doesn't matter anymore, the only thing that's important right now is you. She wants you, so what if you're her student and patient. “Fuck, you're still so tight after all those training I gave you?” You grunted as you continued pounding her, Eunbi felt happiness grow inside her seeing how much you're enjoying her body. “You're so big master, those toys can't compare to you. Fuck me harder, ruin me please”, She moaned before biting down on your boxers again. Her nose keeps inhaling your scent as she falls deeper and deeper into depravity. Your hand grabs her hips and starts to move her body as if she's just a sex doll. Eunbi feels so helpless in your arms and it excites her, she needs to stop herself from screaming from time to time.

Every time your hips crashed on to her you see the impact send a jiggle through her body. Her tits bounce up and down as you continue pounding her even harder. Eunbi who's lost in ecstasy suddenly woke up by the sudden pain on her tits as you slapped it hard. “Ahhhh, master”, She whined, but honestly, she loves it, “I know you like that slut”, And you know it too. Your hand slapped her other tits and she let out another moan. The two of you start to get even louder as every time you slap her Eunbi starts to lose her self control more and more. At one point she let out a loud groan so you grabbed her neck and choked her. “You need to quiet down slut”. At first it was frightening, the pain that suddenly attacked her neck, then she looked at your stern eyes and she couldn't help but to get turned on even more.

“I'm sorry”, She squeal out, but you didn't let go of her neck, in fact you strangle her even harder as you fuck her faster, your other hand move to slap her ass while. This whole thing was too much for, her tongue sticks out of her mouth as her eyes are just rolling to the back of her skull yet again. Her saliva starts to drip down your hand as you see her face start to turn pale. Seeing Eunbi so lost in her own ecstasy from the pain made you feel victorious, made you feel the need to place your flag on this hill. “I'm cumming slut”, Eunbi nodded as tears started to fall down her eyes from happiness. You thrust deep into her, her walls tightened around you, pulsating in a way to milk every last drop of your cum. The ejaculation closes your mind as your hand starts to strangle her for real this time, cutting off her windpipe. Eunbi grabbed into your hands as you let out a groan and unload your sperm inside her. The warmth in her stomach, the stinging pain in her ass and tits alongside the fear of death due to your strangulation send Eunbi to another orgasm. So what if you accidentally choke her out for too long, with all this stimulation she doesn't mind dying in ecstasy.

Thankfully you notice your hand gripping her neck too tight before she passes out. As soon as you let go of your hand Eunbi starts to breathe frantically, her face flushed red as oxygen finally starts to stream back to her brain. “Fuck, I'm sorry”, You said panting hard from the intense orgasm you just had. Eunbi just smiled at you as she coughed, “It's… fine…” It seems like you ruined her throat a little bit. Then you pull out your cock letting your sperm drip down her pussy, you look around her office before throwing some tissues to her. Eunbi who is already drained of energy tries her best to wipe the sperm that's flowing out of her pussy. Meanwhile you're busy cleaning yourself and dressing back up. As you finish sitting in front of her again, Eunbi sees that you're already dressed so she fixes her outfit again and sits up straight at her sofa.

“I'm sorry about that”, You started off, Eunbi doesn't really mind now, but she appreciates the gesture. “I know this relationship is a bad idea, especially since your reputation is on the line”, Eunbi also appreciates that you acknowledge the risk she's having, but she doesn't like where this conversation is going. “So I'll delete all those pictures and videos, we can pretend this, all those chats, let's just forget them and pretend it never happened”, Eunbi felt like a cold water just splashed over her. “Oh, right”, Pretend like this never happened, that's what she wants right? “I thank you for being a counsellor and therapist for me, but if you don't mind can you refer me to a different therapist. After all, this whole thing might affect our therapy session”, Now it felt like a block of ice just pressed on to her body. “I….-” You shake your head, “I say we pretend like this never happened, but there's no way we can loom each other as a normal therapist and patient after this. So please, refer me to another one”, Hearing how adamant you are with this made Eunbi feel deflated. “Of course”, She stutter out, “Then, can I ask for one last thing?” Eunbi nodded as she tried her best to hide her disappointment and sadness.

You leaned closer and kissed her, Eunbi felt her breath stop the moment her lips touch yours. Her body slumps down making you hold her by the shoulder so she wouldn't fall. Eunbi felt your tongue slither into her mouth, her tongue meekly following your lead as she was savouring the taste of your saliva. How does she know what your saliva tastes like? Don't think about it. “Haaaa, Haaaa, Haaaa”, Eunbi panted as you break off the kiss, she looked at you pleading for more. “Just a little souvenir for what we had”, You smile at her before leaving her alone in her office. Eunbi watches you leave, her body is screaming for her to jump and grab your back, to stop you from leaving, but she didn't, she just sat there silently. When you get to the door you look at her one last time, you see a glimmer of hope rise inside her, then you smile and get out of her office, leaving with the memory of her face filled with disappointment and longing. Hook. Line. Sinker.

Left alone in her office, Eunbi felt distraught, seeing you left just like that is just wrong. The moment you two had was short but she can't believe you will just forget it like that. The worst part is she thinks she knows you enough to understand that you're being genuine. The two sessions she had with you make her think you really just disconnected with people that you can just cut her off like that. The unending lust and depravity she has for PorkCrackling is slowly combining with the motherly care and genuine affection she had for you. No, she can't let you cut this off just like that. It doesn't matter if her reputation is on the line, she needs you. She needs your body, your dominance and your sex drive as your slave. She needs to guide you to open up to people, to let you share your burden and get past your traumatic broken household as your therapist. She needs to help you, as much as she needs you to help her.

PurpleBunny: Can we meet up tomorrow?

#kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #izone eunbi #kwon eunbi #izone smut #eunbi smut #male reader

[delugguk]

4:17am || jungkook

genre: drabble.

word count: 700 (lmao 7)

author note: this is not edited.

he deep breathes. “I like your waist a lot.” as you’re hugging on top of him while he traces his fingers onto your lines.

jungkook is the type to kiss your waist whenever he got the time to. there’s nothing he loved more than to kiss all over your entire body. it was like a monument for him. his favorite place to stay, his favorite piece of art. like he always says.

“‘want to eat you whole. you have no idea.” he snorts to himself with a little cheeky but shy smile. you wondered how he managed to look so cute but hot at the same time every time he did that.

he liked sex with you so much.

hard.

hard and wild sex.

messy sex in specific.

even though his angelic but sinful (at times) face doesn’t really show that.. jungkook’s very crazy and passionate about sex. but don’t get this wrong.. he it isn’t to the point of him being obsessive. — he says that not just anybody can make him be this turned on. said he has only felt this horny for you.

you believed him.

not because he had those pretty doe eyes once he told you but because ever since you started dating jungkook, he has always showed you how sincere he was with whatever he did or even said. telling you about how much he doesn’t get why people have the necessity to lie when it comes to relationships or anything else, really. - that actually was a very nice conversation you both had that you’re surely telling whoever is reading this letter, later.

he enjoyed eating you out and god damnit how much you loved that too.

he lays your body down while his kissing your tummy and waist. every time he did that you already knew what was coming next. — his piercing.. his new one in specific, you could feel it hit your clit whenever he kissed you there each. time.

smirking about it, he always did that whenever your legs glitched.. god. he even spits on it, you adored how much he wasn’t afraid of getting so messy even his chin shined of how wet you are.

not feeling even embarrassed, you could never feel that way with him. feeling him as your own cozy home, he truly is your safe place. could never get embarrassed in front of him with these type of things.. but you do are whenever he randomly compliments you..

“turn around and close your legs. want to see your ass while I fuck you like this.”

his dirty mouth.. he should shut up, but not actually.

you do as he says.

“mmh this is what I wanted.” he hisses once he opens your pussy with both fingers. very slightly. your arousal sticking to your walls just like glue is what turns him on the most. “I’m the only one who gets you like this, huh?”

he slap-grabs your ass. only making you arch your ass a little.

“fuck” he whispers more to himself.

when his dick is full out and angry slightly red, he can’t help but stroke it with your arousal before entering you. he’s playful, you hated-loved that.

pushing your ass so he can finally enter, he smirks getting the memo. a soft moan falling down his lips when he does.

he goes deep and slow. just how you like it. he preferred going a little hard but strangely enough, whenever it came to this particularly position, he always liked going so deep and slow. said you wrapped around him even better.

you could feel him full. pussy lips wrapping around him just the way he loved it. you cummed and he continued to fuck you. he cummed and still continued to fuck you. the creampie just going crazy for him, it turns him on so badly and you know that when jungkook gets like that it’s dangerous.

dangerous because of his energy and stamina. a horny jungkook is very.. dangerous.

—————————————————————————-

okay I’m ending it here lmaosososksk

I guess part two will start with “a horny jungkook is very.. dangerous.”

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook seven #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #bangtan #bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook stories #bts fic #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts imagines

[rockstvrdotcom]

It's 💅anon again!!!!

Can you pls do a s/o who like to bite or mark their partner/mate a lot??? (NSFW or SFW all fine)

With EJ, Masky and Hoodie pls 🥺🥺🥺

ej, masky, and hoodie with a s/o that likes to bite

ej, masky, hoodie x reader (nsfw but mostly sfw in there)

HI NONNIEEE!! the first work u asked for is otw!! i just decided to post this one first because the other is longer lol

tw/cw: marking/biting (duhhh), nsfw, guys theres gore in the photos so beware, fem reader, mentions of blood, scratching, cigarette burns on skin/clothes, spanking, slapping, slight somnophilia kink

EYELESS JACK

you like to mark him:

at first he was reluctant, he thought his skin was already ruined enough at it was. you assured him that it's fine, and that he's the most handsome boy you've ever laid your eyes on. (you both cringed at that but he lowk loved it cos hes canonically insecure abt his skin)

once you did it the first time.. this man could not get enough. literally begged you to do it over and over again. he's obsessed with it. you almost got tired of it (you could never tho)

loves when you leave little kitten licks on the mark; he loves the feeling so much like he could just eat you

loves when your on top of him as you give him hickeys— especially when your sitting on top of him and your hips are grinding against his.

lets out really silent whimpers as you mark him, so silent you don't even hear them most of the time. but when you're near his throat, you can faintly hear them.

gets hard so easily from you biting/marking him.

obsessed with when you have lipstick on and leave little lipstick stains on his cheeks or really any part of his body.

...loves when you mark him near the base of his cock— whether its lipstick stains or his hickeys. he just loves seeing the marks as he jerks off when your not around him. (yall im going to hell)

he likes to mark you:

after he begins to mark you he does not stop. sucks on the skin until its a dark purple/green.

sometimes he even likes to bite through the skin and lick up the blood— if you're okay with it of course.

gets really turned on when you let him break skin, usually ends up in him bending you over the nearest surface and fucking you silly. the blood gets him so riled up.

whenever you both are not busy he constantly has his teeth in your neck; not all the time but often. sometimes he'll just sneak up behind you and take a bite like you're some sort of snack.

he likes to mark you around your collarbone and neck; makes you wear v necks around the mansion so people can see the piece of art he created on your neck.

he was really gentle with it at first— asking you if it hurt or if you were ok. he has a higher pain tolerance than normal he has a hard time knowing the limits, but when you tell him it's ok and tell him you want more? he just can't help himself.

if he's marking you and you both have nothing to do it usually always ends up in him dicking you down. this mans sex drive is HIGH

asks you to sit on his lap any chance he gets and let him mark you.

guys this man is just so obsessed with marking—  gn.

MASKY

you like to mark him:

masky n tim are very different.. tim is such a sweetie pie but masky is a whole 'nother thing. but lets talk about masky

this man.. he's so down bad for you marking him like the second you asked he started rushing you to come over here and start sucking on his neck.

all that and he still won't ever take off his mask— but maybe he'll lift it just enough for you to leave lipstick stains and hickeys down his jawline.

i don't even know whether he prefers the lipstick stains or hickeys. he loves when you break skin though, he's just so into it and it gets him so hot n sweaty.

also obsessed with the way you leave scratch marks down his back when he pounds into you, likes looking at them in the mirror and how they burn in the shower

when you're leaving marks around his neck you can really smell the earthy/woody scent he has.. and a faint smell of cigarettes' on him.

likes when you mark him as hes smoking a cig; two of his favorite things at the same time? sign him up

has to have some sort of grip on your thighs while you mark him, he's obsessed with your thighs.

it js makes him so horny when you have your teeth sunken down into his skin.

wants you to leave lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt or hoodie.. idk man he js loves it.

he likes to mark you

oh boy

he lifts up his mask just enough so he can bite you and taste your skin.

thighs. leaves scratches, bites, kisses all over your thighs. he just can't stop man.

begs you to let him mark you all the time, even though it lowk humiliates him.

"please, pretty. i wan' everyone to know your mine."

leaves scratch marks all over your ass and back, idk he's just obsessed with it.

the whole marking thing rlly plays into his obsession with letting everybody know your his. he's really possesive.

this one might be a lil.. yk. but if you're okay with it and let him, he likes to leave cigarette burns on your thighs. something about stubbing out a cigarette 0n you just does something to him. or he likes leaving cigarette burns on your clothes that you don't mind being ruined.

the way he marks you is just so diverse, you don't know whats next, a bite or??

also likes to spank you or js see your ass red.. seeing the pretty light red shade on your ass does something to him. when you guys are fucking he'll grip/spank your ass hard, he likes seeing his hand prints on your ass.

HOODIE

you like to mark him

when it comes to marking, hoodie and brian are relatively similar but hoodies way more kinky w/ it.

hoodie does not hesitate to do it in public. begs you to mark him all over while you guys are in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of people around.

wants you to leave them in the most noticeable places like his neck and jaw.

he just wants you all over him honestly. he wants you ontop of him littering his chest with kisses and hickies. hes so obsessed with you marking him and you can smell the strong but faint smell of cologne on him (idk how that works dont ask me)

looks down his shirt randomly just to see the marks you left on him.

every time he sees one fading he asks you to do it again.

just like ej he likes when you leave marks near the base of his dick, it just adds to the pleasure when the forming hickey is throbbing while you're sucking him off.

he likes to mark you

doesn't stop once he starts.

hes kinda a sadist tbh

doesn't do anything like cigarette burns like masky. but likes to take a smoke while you mark him. he doesn't smoke often though.

hickeys and lipstick stains are his favorite. slapping you and seeing the red slowly creep onto your face tops all of that + bruises aswell.

doesn't slap you just to inflict pain; surprisingly. he just wants to see the red marks on your pretty 'lil face

takes pictures of the marks he left on you with his camera and jerks off to them later.

praises you but also degrades you at the same time as he marks you.

"fuck, you're my cute lil' slut aren't you? so adorable with my hickeys all over her."

grips at your thighs hard while you guys are fucking; hard enough to leave dark bruises. he admires then while you sit on his lap later on.

speaking of sitting on his lap,, he loves when you're sitting ontop of him or you're on your knees infront of him as he lightly slaps you on the face, just enough to leave his handprint.

also likes spanking your ass and leaving bruises on it

squeezes your ass later to hear you wince in slight pain.

marks you while your sleeping and likes to see your reaction when you wake up

kisses the marks he leaves on you

#smut #marble hornets #marble hornets smut #eyeless jack smut #hoodie smut #masky smut #masky x reader #eyeless jack x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta smut #masky #eyeless jack

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•. #xu minghao #minghao fics #minghao fluff #minghao scenarios #minghao imagines #the8 #the8 fics #the8 fluff #the8 scenarios #the8 imagines #svt fics #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen fics #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #minghao x reader #the8 x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Representation

Oh, so NOW child abuse is bad. Could have fooled me last episode!

Let's get into the twenty-fifth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Representation

We start off with an English news report recapping the ending of “Revolution”, stating that Ms. Bustier is going to run for mayor, conveniently ignoring her attempted coup in “Collusion”. We also see that Gabriel and Tomoe are still uncomfortably focused on making Adrien and Kagami appear to be a couple in public, much to their dismay. While Kagami is visited by Argos (who once again sneaks up on her, like he usually does), Adrien realizes he can transform into his space form and see Marinette whenever he wants and transforms into Cat Noir, planning to reveal his identity to Marinette. Hey, did he even tell Ladybug about his sudden departure? Because it didn't go well the last time he left Paris without telling her (New York Special).

We then cut to Marinette right after the events of “Revolution”, going to the end of the year dance... even though when we saw Adrien and Kagami in London, the sun was still setting, and France's time zone is only about an hour later, meaning Adrien and Kagami must have flown there at ludicrous speed.

Meanwile, Argos and Kagami somehow got from London to Paris offscreen, and watch Marinette from afar, with Kagami revealing she knows she's Ladybug. They decide to tell Marinette that Felix knows who Monarch is in order to ensure his downfall. Nah, I'm just kidding. Here's the real reason they're coming to Marinette for help.

Kagami: My mother and Gabriel Agreste will never allow us to love each other freely. Only Ladybug can help us.

Yep, rather than prioritize the fact that Gabriel is endangering the citizens of Paris on a daily basis, Kagami is seriously more concerned about her relationship with her boyfriend being tampered with. This is like saying Lex Luthor is evil because he cheats on his taxes. Argos transforms back into Felix, and... oh, for the love of God... he disguises himself as Adrien in order to get closer to Marinette. You can't keep portraying Felix as this master of disguise if he only has ONE disguise!

Marinette sees “Adrien” and assumes he came back from London from her, assuming her boyfriend is much more active that the writers actually believe he is, so she tries to follow him while avoiding the guests at the party. Meanwhile, Gabriel and Tomoe learn their children are gone, so he goes to talk with Nathalie and—why the hell is she like that?

Seriously, this has never been established as something that happens when someone uses the broken Peacock Miraculous. Why didn't this happen to Emilie? She looks pretty healthy in her little coffin, and I doubt Gabriel is an embalmer.

Anyway, after Nathalie once again reminds us that she hates Gabriel, but not enough to call the cops on him, Gabriel transforms into Monarch and immediately detransforms back in order to akumatize himself into Nightormentor.

Nightormentor is a pretty average recolor of the Collector's design, which kind of makes sense, considering that Gabriel himself intended the Akuma for himself. The star pattern is okay, but there's not much I can really say. As for his powers, he's just another Sandboy, being able to force people to hallucinate their worse nightmares, only instead of a pillow, his weapon is a staff created from a pen containing the Akuma, with the Horse Miraculous' Voyage to boot. Why he didn't just give himself the same powers he gave Truth when he's trying to find Adrien is anyone's guess.

Cat Noir arrives at the Eiffel Tower to talk with Marinette, just as Nightormentor appears. The two fight, and after a few civilians get caught in the crossfire, Nightormentor escapes through Voyage. As Cat Noir heads to the Dupain-Cheng bakery at the advising of Max, Alya and Nino decide that the totally not useless Resistance should get involved.

While Marinette gives chase, Felix leads her into the school's art classroom, where he transforms into Argos and creates a Sentimonster using Kagami's ring. Felix and Kagami use the Sentimonster's power to do... uh... whatever the hell this is.

Yeah, this is basically a flashback, but the animators probably blew their budget needed for the new models on Ms. Bustier's baby bump, so we're getting this instead, thanks to the Sentimonster Argos created. There are several scenes of Cat Noir and Nightormentor interspersed, but like what I did with Marinette's flashback in “Derision”, I'll give you the summary before I talk about my problems with this.

When Adrien's mother and aunt, Emilie and Amelie, were born, Emilie (who was born seven seconds early) was trusted with the family heirlooms, the two rings we first saw all the way back in “Felix”. Even though this meant she would inherit the family name, Emilie didn't really like doing... whatever the Graham de Vanily family wanted her to do, but Amelie did. Eventually, while studying abroad, Emilie met Gabriel, and the two fell in love. Before marrying Gabriel, Emilie gave up her role as the sole inheritor of the Graham de Vanily family's vague legacy, while Amelie married a man named Colt to please her parents. Both couples wanted children, but it's heavily implied that Emilie and Amelie were infertile, so their wishes weren't able to come true. Emilie finally managed to get a bun in the oven thanks to the Peacock Miraculous, but this made Colt jealous that he couldn't have a child. Out of the goodness of her heart, Emilie asked Gabriel to give the Peacock Miraculous to Colt, in exchange for letting the Gorilla guard Adrien in the future. Using his own jealousy as a source of power, Colt got Amelie pregnant, though at the cost of his health. Colt figured this was the price he had to pay for using “sorcery”, and used this as an excuse to treat Felix like a monster and ordered him around using the ring containing his Amok. Felix himself was unaware that he wasn't human until Colt accidentally broke the ring (which wasn't one of the two wedding rings used to control Adrien and was an entirely different ring containing Felix's Amok), which he stole as soon as Colt died. This is meant to explain why Felix decided to steal back the Peacock Miraculous, in order to save his life. Felix later met Kagami, and the two explain that they need “Someone like Ladybug” to help them.

Now if your only information about this episode is through my summary, it seems simple enough. For everyone else who actually saw this sequence in the episode itself, I'm guessing your thoughts were about the same as mine.

Let's go over every problem I have with this scene, starting with...

#1: The Way Kagami and Felix Explain This

Let me just ask something: Why can't Felix just talk to Marinette about what he knows since he now knows she's Ladybug instead of telling her everything through this weird play? You can still tell Marinette all of this without your two-man show. In fact, why did Felix have to wait until he knew Marinette was Ladybug instead of just talking to her the next time he saw her? Yeah, you could argue it's easier this way, but like I've been saying since Season 4, Felix has had no excuse to wait this long to tell Ladybug about the fact that he knows who her greatest enemy is.

And why the hell is it presented this way? Why does Felix have to recontextualize the story of his family's history in the form of a play? Why turn it into a stereotypical fairy tale that leaves out the names of all the important people, like Emilie, Amelie, Colt (whose name I only learned through the transcript of this episode), and Gabriel? If it was like a hidden message Felix and Kagami wanted to convey to Marinette, that would make sense, but why do they have to be so cryptic when they're only putting this show on for one person? You could easily avoid a good chunk of the questions this raises if this was a show Felix and Kagami put on for the public that Marinette was able to learn the information from. Yeah, it still wouldn't explain why Felix can't just tell Marinette about who Gabriel really is, but at least it's something.

The way it all happens kind of reminds me of this scene from this old Halloween special I saw a lot as a kid, Scary Godmother: Halloween Spooktacular. In that scene, some of the kids act out a scene of this little girl's parents entrusting her with a flashlight to explain why she carries it around, in order to scare off any monsters she runs into, using the graveyard they were in as a makeshift set. This scene works a lot more because it's done in more of a tongue-in-cheek way, with some of the kids breaking character to boost their own egos (for example, the kid playing the mom comments about how responsible she is), and how one kid in particular gradually gets fed up with the whole thing. The scene does its job at delivering exposition in a way that isn't meant to be taken too seriously, and it's clear this is being done by some kids goofing around in-universe.

With this episode, it's clear that the writers want the audience to take this whole backstory seriously in spite of how absurd it all is. Seriously look at this.

We are seriously expected to take this backstory seriously when it looks like some theater major's midterm project. The animators want it to look artsy and unique for the sake of making it look artsy and unique. Why does it look like a play these two put together themselves if they're supposedly using a Sentimonster's power to do it? If the unnamed Sentimonster's powers is how Marinette is seeing all this, why can't it actually be seen as a flashback? Was it always intended to be a handmade play that was changed to the product of a Sentimonster at the last minute?

I get that the animators probably wanted kids to pick up on the visuals of the play, but even then, it makes it hard to really stomach the serious themes this backstory brings up, like infertility and child abuse, with the way they're presented. Not only do Felix and Kagami all play the characters using these white jumpsuits and masks, they also do all the voices, meaning that the only “dialogue” we hear from Colt is delivered by Kagami putting on a deeper voice. Let me repeat that: the only times we hear Colt, the abusive parent and all around garbage human being, talk, it's done by a teenage girl trying to make her voice sound deeper.

But hey, maybe the goofy voice will be overshadowed by the nuanced depiction of child abuse, right? Right?

#2: The Portrayal of Colt and the Double Standards Regarding His Treatment of Felix

I have never seen a single show struggle this much to convey a lesson as simple as “Child abuse is bad”.

When it comes to the parents in this show, terrible parents like Gabriel, Audrey, and Tomoe are almost never held accountable for the way they treated their children. If the writers aren't claiming they really love their children deep down, they're either downplaying how cruel they are at best or playing their behavior for laughs at worst. But here we are, the penultimate episode of the fifth season, and we finally have a parent who is unambiguously treated as a terrible human being with no redeeming qualities... and I still have problems with this.

This flashback really goes out of its way to let the audience that Colt was a real piece of scum in life. He only wanted a child out of jealousy, used his Amok to force Felix to do whatever he wanted, was heavily implied to have physically beat him at times, and blamed him for his poor health on his deathbed when he was the one who wanted to use the Peacock in the first place. Now that I think about it, why did Colt even use the Peacock to create Felix instead of Emelie? Was the episode so determined to paint Colt as a bastard that he wanted to be the one to create Felix himself?

The point I'm trying to make is that the show doesn't really explain why Colt was like this. Why was he such an angry man who treated his only child like crap? I don't know, because all the show's telling me is that he was just a dick. He honestly feels more like a caricature than anything else. He's only as terrible of a person he is in order to make the audience sympathize with Felix. I'm not saying that what Felix went through was okay, but it has the same energy as scenes of Gabriel talking to Emilie's body. It's mostly there to make the audience sympathize with an antagonistic character in spite of all the things they've done.

What's really weird is that even though the whole point of this play is so Felix can tell Marinette Gabriel is Monarch, so what does Colt have to do with this? I'm not saying he's not worth mentioning, but it makes no sense for Felix to tell Marinette about his abusive father before he tells her about Gabriel. It feels more like Felix wants to find a way to excuse his actions before telling Marinette about Gabriel being Monarch. And remember when “Derision” made a big deal about Chloe's terrible parents not excusing her actions? Funny how that conveniently doesn't apply to Felix in this episode.

In fact, let's talk about the elephant in the room: The fact that this episode aired right after “Revolution”, an episode that literally said a character living under an abusive and controlling parent was a fitting punishment for her. HOW THE HELL IS THIS ANY DIFFERENT FROM THAT? If anything, this episode really shows the double standards this show has about child abuse, how the only way your situation can be taken seriously is if you're a “good victim”. Chloe's a “bad victim”, so she doesn't get any sympathy when her mother outright says she's going to take control of her life, yet when Colt actually takes control of Felix's life, we're supposed to sympathize with him now. Why am I supposed to feel bad for Felix now when you just told me I shouldn't feel bad for someone in a similar situation last episode?

In fact, one theory I have about this backstory is that it was intended to kill two birds with one stone, no pun intended. I believe that this episode wasn't just written to give us more insight into who Felix is as a character, but also to show the audience what “real” child abuse is like. As far as the show is concerned with Gabriel, Audrey, and Tomoe? They're not actually abusive parents, Colt is, so you should condemn his actions, and not those three. It's blatant double standards, which is nothing new for this show.

#3: The Way Amelie Just... Lets This All Happen

In my “Derision” review, I discussed how strange it was that so many people in Marinette's life did nothing to help her against Chloe, and the same thing applies here with Amelie.

This episode never really explains where Amelie was when Colt was abusing Felix, much less if she was even aware of it. At least with Marinette's parents, they didn't know because most of Marinette's suffering was at school. Amelie lives with Felix and Colt, so what's her excuse? She seriously didn't overhear Colt yelling at Felix or notice the orders Colt gave Felix? Was she just that ignorant to her child's suffering? Remember, this is supposed to be Felix's good parent.

In fact, does Amelie even know Felix is a Sentimonster? Yeah, “Emotion” established that Amelie knows Felix is Argos, but this episode doesn't really make it clear if she knows Felix is a Sentimonster or not. If it was clear Amelie knew nothing about what Felix really was, it would arguably make things easier to stomach, as she wouldn't know the power Colt had over him.

Instead, even though she's Felix's mother, the show doesn't really explain what she actually did when Colt was making Felix's life a living hell, especially since the flashback says that Amelie was forced to marry Colt, so you can't even say she was blinded by love here. Hell, I'm not even sure if Amelie knew the cause of Colt's untimely passing.

#4:This Doesn’t Really Do Much to Explain Felix’s Actions

Now before you say I'm being insensitive, let me make one thing clear: My issue isn't with the fact that this was done to get the audience to sympathize with Felix. The problem I have is that the backstory doesn't do enough to explain why Felix did the things he did.

Okay, Felix wants the Peacock Miraculous. Understandable, he doesn't want to die, so he has to do morally questionable things to preserve his life like betraying the only person capable of stopping the man who can kill him. What's less understandable is his plan to get the Peacock Miraculous from Gabriel. You'll notice that the backstory didn't mention Felix's first appearance, where he only stole the rings belonging to Amelie's family, and he didn't even think to look for the Peacock. Instead, it cuts from Felix realizing he's a Sentimonster to him striking a deal with Gabriel, not even mentioning that he gave Gabriel back one of the rings as part of the deal, which still makes no sense.

If Felix's goal from the start was to get the Peacock Miraculous, why did he bother stealing all of Marinette's Miraculous as a bargaining chip for the deal instead of the family ring? In fact, why did Felix even steal the ring and wait an entire season to trade it back to Gabriel for the Peacock a season later? And for someone who claims to care about Adrien, he really didn't see anything wrong with giving Gabriel one of the two rings capable of overriding his free will.

As a matter of fact, why the hell is Felix even so hostile towards Adrien? Why did he go out of his way to smear his reputation in his debut episode if all he wanted to do was make a bargain with Hawkmoth? In “Risk”, he mocked Adrien for how he talked, while Adrien himself was aware of how he made him look bad in front of his friends, and that's not even getting into how he made himself look like Adrien as part of his plan to betray Ladybug, which would have screwed him even more if Adrien wasn't already Cat Noir. For someone who claims he wants to protect him from Gabriel, Felix really doesn't care about his cousin all that much.

In fact, why does Felix even hate Gabriel at all? The show hinted that the two had a history, yet during the backstory, which I need to remind you, was told from Felix's perspective on the events, has a surprisingly generous portrayal of Gabriel. Did Felix know Gabriel was Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch during his first appearance? Does Felix blame Gabriel for how Colt treated him growing up? Does Felix hate Gabriel for how he treats Adrien? Did Gabriel intend to get Colt sick in the first place? Seriously, what is Felix's deal with Gabriel?!

How does a flashback organized by Felix himself do nothing to really explain why he did the things he did?

#5: The Fact That There Are STILL Several Unanswered Questions Here

For something meant to fill the audience in on several important topics, there are still so many questions about the history of the Agreste and Graham de Vanily families.

Other than the vague backstory about them being rich, we still know nothing about Emilie and Amelie other than them being rich and possibly infertile. We don't know if Amelie ever loved Colt, if she knew he was abusing Felix, or if she even knew if he used the Peacock to play god.

On a related note, why did Emilie and Gabriel decide to use the Peacock Miraculous to create a son instead of adopting? Scratch that, why did she specifically create a Sentimonster to give birth to like a normal baby? Was there some kind of Macbeth-esque guideline that Emilie had to give birth to a child in order for said child to get the inheritance? Did she use the ring to control Adrien like Gabriel does now? Seriously, this is the character the show's conflict is all based around, and we still know nothing about her other than the fact that she was nice.

This flashback just makes no sense, and is such a stupid and confusing way to deliver exposition.

Anyway, during all this, Cat Noir and Nightormentor are fighting, and for the third time this season, Cat Noir attempts to Cataclysm him someone, even when he had Nightormentor pinned down. Nightormentor breaks free and hits Cat Noir with his magic dust, causing him to hallucinate... Cat Blanc?

Yeah, the script calls this form “Anticat”, but given how it looks like a reused Cat Blanc model coupled with the petrified people of Paris, this is clearly meant to bring Cat Blanc to mind. The problem is that NEITHER CAT NOIR OR NIGHTORMENTOR KNOW ABOUT THAT. Why would you remind audiences about an Akuma that technically never existed?

Better yet, is this what Cat Noir trying to his Cataclysm on people this past season (Destruction, Jubilation, Derision) has been building up to? The fear that he'll lose control? You could have fooled me, as he never really showed that much remorse for almost hurting people other than Monarch. Yeah, you could argue that because Nightormentor based his hallucinations off his victims' worst fears, but again, this fear had little to no buildup this season because Cat Noir never felt any guilt for Cataclysming Monarch after “Destruction”, and whenever tried to use his Cataclysm on other people, Cat Noir never really realized the weight of his actions. If you want to make a character arc about Cat Noir worrying about hurting people with his powers, go more into the guilt he feels for hurting Monarch and using that guilt to affect his actions. Don't just use some “Cat Blanc” nostalgia bait to convince the audience that there's been a character arc.

Nightormentor takes advantage of Cat Noir's emotional state to get his Miraculous, only for the Resistance to save Cat Noir by... throwing stuff at him. And this is how they defeat him. While Nino, Alya, Ivan, and Zoe distract Nightormentor, Kim and Max help Cat Noir focus, Cat Noir Cataclysms Nightormentor's baton.

Zoe traps the Akuma in a jar, Cat Noir doesn't take it, he heads off to detransform and confess to Marinette, only for the hallucination to still affect him since Ladybug didn't use Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and even though he knows it's just a hallucination, he still uses it as a reason to not reveal his identity to Marinette, even after Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma herself.

The episode ends with Gabriel and Tomoe locking Adrien and Kagami in these white rooms while under heavy surveillance to ensure they won't escape, vowing to start “Operation: Perfect Alliance”. Because these two like using the word “perfect” more than they like subjecting their children to what one of my anons referred to as “white torture”.

Because that's a good way to keep your children under control: psychological torment.

Other than the stuff with Felix and Kagami, this episode was pretty dull.

There's just not much I can really say here. The plot was barebones, all Marinette did was listen to Felix and Kagami's story so the writers didn't have to involve any of them in the main conflict, and even Cat Noir confronting his akumatized father doesn't have a lot of weight to it because towards the end, it focuses more on Adrien's nightmare instead of his relationship with his father.

This episode is nothing more than a prologue for the final battle. It's only here to establish Adrien and Kagami's presence in London, Marinette learning Gabriel is Monarch, and even more setup for Gabriel and Tomoe's final plan. And trust me, the buildup will be far from worth it.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... FELIX

It's amazing. The only time this season Felix goes out of his way to actually help Ladybug, and he still screws it up. He abducted Kagami from her hotel in London without thinking of Tomoe hunting him down again when that was the entire plot of “Pretension”, only decided to tell Marinette he knows who Monarch is because he's getting in the way of his relationship with his girlfriend, did so in an unnecessarily convoluted way, and even though he made a big deal about not wanting to use Sentimonsters in his last appearance, he still used one to tell Marinette his life story instead of just saying “My uncle is Monarch”.

And if you think Felix will get a chance to truly redeem himself in the finale, think again, bucko. Other than a brief cameo, this is the last thing he'll do this season. Aren't you glad the writers made this character prominent for seven episodes over three seasons and did nothing else with him?

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #felix graham de vanily #argos #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch #nightormentor #kagami tsurugi #nathalie sancoeur #tomoe tsurugi #emilie agreste #amelie graham de vanily #colt fathom #Youtube

[starkwlkr]

Hiii! okay maybe teen mathéo likes a girl so he could talk to charles about it and ask for advice a little father son moment would be cool.

numbers | charles leclerc

hello lovely anon! thanks for the request! for this imagine, I’m going to include mikey and demri schumacher. they are characters that belong to @cs55version from their mick series that i am absolutely in love with!!

I JUST STAY IN MY ROOM TOO LONG BUT I FINALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S THE BOMB — numbers by tempered

While the media saw Ruby Leclerc as the loud, but funny child of Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, they sometimes forgot about Mathéo Leclerc, the shy and quiet boy. It wasn’t a bad thing (Mathéo’s exact words). The boy liked not being in the spotlight.

He enjoyed art museums and going to see musicals with his mother and grand-mère. But there were sometimes when the media did question whether or not he would follow in the footsteps of his father. From a young age, Mathéo decided not to pursue a career in formula 1 and his family respected that.

Even the kids at school would ask him when he would start karting. He would always answer with “I’m not going to be a driver. Ask my older sister.”

He grew tired of people at school always asking him about Ferrari, his father and uncle, asking for paddock passes. It was always the same people, people he never even talked to. But there was one day when a girl who had just moved to Monaco came up to him during lunch.

Mathéo’s usual friend, Robin, was sick so he remained home. Now it looked like Mathéo didn’t have any friends and sat alone during lunch.

“Hi. Is it okay if I sit here?” The girl asked, pointing to the chair across Mathéo.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” He replied then went back to eating his sandwich that his mother had made him.

“I’m Giselle.” The girl introduced herself.

“My name is Mathéo, but with an h in between the t and e. A lot of people forget about the h.” He explained.

“Oh, okay. Mine is with two l’s so it’s not like the supermodel’s name, you know the one that was married to Tom Brady?” She asked.

“I don’t know who Tom Brady is, but I know who Gisele Bündchen is. My maman had dinner with her last week.” He said casually. “Wait, you don’t have an accent.” He quickly noticed.

“I’m from America, but my mother’s side of the family is from here. My mom got a really good job offer so here we are,” Giselle explained. “My mom has about of an accent though. She was born here but left when she was ten I think.”

Mathéo had a crush on a girl before. Her name was Eloise. She was the sister of the most popular girl in school so when Eloise asked Mathéo out to the movies, the boy thought it was just some kind of prank.

Giselle seemed nice, she listened when Mathéo had something to say, laughed at his jokes when he made one and she didn’t know of Mathéo’s last name so at least he didn’t have to worry about that yet.

As the school day came to an end, he walked back home only to find Mikey and Demri Schumacher and his sister eating in the kitchen while his mother was on the phone talking.

“Hey, Théo! Missed you.” Demri ruffled his hair as he passed by her to get to the refrigerator.

“You can keep him if you want. I see him all the time.” Ruby teased.

“Maman! Ruby wants to give me away to the Schumacher’s!” Mathéo yelled. He ignored the laughs coming from then teenagers and grabbed a juice then walked out the kitchen.

“Ruby, what did I say about trying to sell your brother?” Y/n groaned from her spot in the sofa.

“Uncle Mick won’t mind having him around!”

“Hi, maman. Is papa around?” The fourteen year old boy asked shyly. He needed his father’s opinion on Giselle.

“He’s in our room, baby. He might be asleep, but you can go check.”

“Oh. I’ll let him sleep then. I’m going to my room.” Mathéo said. He knew how hard his father worked so he rather wait to have a conversation with him. He walked up the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him.

Y/n could see the defeated face on her boy. “Mom, I’m going to call you back. Bye.” She hung up the phone. She got up and walked to her and Charles’ room where he was sleeping peacefully on their bed. He had just gotten back from Belgium and he decided he wanted to have a nap before dinner.

“Charles, sweetheart,” Y/n gently shook his body to wake him up. Charles groaned as a response. “Mathéo wants to talk to you. I have a feeling it might be important.”

“What time is it?” He asked, still not opening his eyes.

“Almost dinner time so you have to get up.”

Charles sighed and sat up in his spot. “Where’s my boy?”

Mathéo was in his room working on his art project. It was a show box diorama of his favorite memory, which was the day of his birthday when all of his family from both sides made it to his party. As he was putting a toy birthday cake in his box, he heard a knock on his door.

“It’s open!” He said, still concentrated on his project. In came Charles with a tired face, but he didn’t care. His son needed him and he was here to listen.

“It looks very nice. Is that Uncle Arthur with frosting on his face?” Charles pointed at a paper drawing of the whole family. Arthur had been drawn with blue marker ‘smeared’ on his face to resemble the frosting of the cake that Charles had thrown at his face the day of the party.

“Yeah, it was kind of hard to find the right shade of blue but I made it work.” Mathéo said, not looking up from his work.

Charles nodded and walked over to the boy’s bed and sat down. “Maman told me you wanted to talk.”

Mathéo finally looked up and slowly turned his chair to face Charles. “But you’re tired. We can talk later-”

“Théo, I’m not tired. I’m okay, now tell me, is someone bothering you in school? Are your grades bad? If it’s about grades then I’m not mad because my grades were not good. Arthur and I used to skip class because of karting so-”

“It’s not about grades. I’m doing well in school. Promise you won’t laugh at me.” Mathéo said quietly.

“Why would I laugh? I’m your papa.”

“Just promise me.”

Charles held out his pinky finger. “I promise I won’t laugh,” Mathéo nodded and was about to speak but Charles stopped him. “No, you have to do the pinky promise. This is serious.” Mathéo chuckled and laced his pinky finger with his father’s then let go.

“Okay, so I was sitting in my usual table during lunch and then this girl comes up and sits with me. Robin wasn’t with me because he’s sick so I thought she felt bad for me because I was sitting alone. But turns out she’s new to Monaco and to the school. We talked and I have decided that she is the coolest girl I have ever met and she doesn’t know I’m your son!” The boy explained. “And she laughed at my jokes, I think I’m in love.”

Charles’ lips turned into a smile. His son had a crush.

“Well that’s a big word for you. She seems nice. What’s her name?” Charles asked.

“Giselle but with two l’s. Even her name is pretty. But I don’t want to seem like a creep and ask her out. How did you ask maman to go on a date with you?”

“Your maman was not an easy person to ask out. The first time I asked her, she said no and I respected her decision. A month later, she was in Monaco and we got lunch with a couple of friends and I asked her again and she said yes. I wanted to take her to dinner but she said that was too boring for a first date so we signed up for a cooking class to make pasta but it was in Italy so we went to Italy.” Charles explained. He was never going to forget that day.

“Why Italy? Does Monaco not having pasta classes?”

“They do, but your mother hadn’t been to Italy so I took her. It’s became a tradition now. On our anniversary, we go to the same cooking class and make pasta. You would think my cooking skills would improve by now, but at least we have maman to help.”

“Maybe I can take Giselle to a cooking class in Italy.” Mathéo suggested.

“How about we start with watching a movie in the local theater?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #anon #inbox <3 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series teen edition