#didn't bother drawing will when he looks like a person in this doodle set. but robot will prefers to wear suits n maybe ties

[springlock-suits]

Trying to figure out designs for funtime William!

What I want and what SL design conventions allow are two very different things bdksndks

I'm having a funtime with it though

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ? (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)

nerdy! subby! scaramouche x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw ﾉ modern au / school au ﾉ blowjob ﾉ anal fingering ﾉ handjob ﾉ begging ﾉ slight nipple playﾉ public sex (sex in school) ﾉ teasing ﾉ slight degradation ﾉ msub+ fdomﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

i feel like i havent written a subby work in ages . . eeeee i actually rlly missed it ! alsooo, feel free 2 send sum thirsts / fluff prompts in 'n ill be happi 2 write 'em ! art credits go to @majunju ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

It was the third time you had been late this week, the bell signaling the end of class, and you hurried to gather your belongings, hoping you could slip out before anyone noticed. It had become a routine. Sneaking off campus, ditching your friends, ditching your responsibilities, ditching everything, just to have some time alone with him. The teacher droned on, the man's voice fading into the background, the only thing you could focus on was him. You hadn't meant to get attached. He had been a distraction, someone to take the edge off, a quick fuck. He was easy, a pushover, and yet… he was quickly becoming an addiction. His personality, his interests, the way his glasses sat crooked on his nose, the way his lips felt against your own, the way he sounded, the way he looked, the way he begged. Everything about him had become something you couldn't live without. And he was a nerd. A bookworm. A straight A student. You had never expected him to have a sexual side. You had never expected him to be this needy. This clingy. This submissive. He was an enigma.

"Alright. Class dismissed."

The words echoed throughout the classroom, and you snapped to attention, your gaze snapping to him. He was still seated, his head bent, his gaze fixed on the black, hardback notebook in front of him. You could make out the doodles that littered the page, little hearts and stars and random drawings that made no sense, along with a few scribbled out sentences. Ink scattered across the page, covering the surface, his name in the bottom right hand corner, written in a sloppy scrawl. He was hunched over the page, his pen flying across the paper, the scratching sound of the pen filling the silence. The other students filed out of the room, and the teacher followed suit, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He didn't bother looking up, his eyes remaining focused on the paper in front of him, the pen moving furiously, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. What was he working on? It didn't matter. The sight of his tongue peeking out from between his lips was enough to set your body aflame, the memory of his tongue between your thighs sending a wave of arousal through you. It was a miracle you were able to focus during the lesson. His hand stilled, his shoulders tense, and he dropped his pen, his hands coming up to grip the sides of his head, a frustrated groan leaving him.

"Hey, baby." You greeted, a small smirk tugging at the edges of your lips. He stiffened, his hands dropping, and he slowly turned to look at you, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide. You took the opportunity to make your way over, sliding into the seat beside him, leaning forward, your breath fanning against the side of his neck, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "What's got you so worked up?" You questioned, and his gaze darted away, his face reddening even further. You had learned fairly quickly that he was shy, especially when it came to talking about his emotions. He was easy to read, and it was a quality that you absolutely loved. It was a refreshing change of pace. You weren't used to dealing with guys like him. You were used to assholes, narcissists, closed off pricks who thought they could walk all over you. Not him. No, he was a good boy. A sweet, loving, doting, obedient, good boy.

"Nothing." He muttered, averting his gaze, and you frowned, your hand reaching out, fingers hooking under his chin, tilting his head, forcing him to look at you. His eyes darted down, avoiding your gaze, and you huffed.

"Look at me." You ordered, and he obeyed, his eyes flitting up, locking onto your own. Your thumb grazed his bottom lip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his hands clenching the edge of the table. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked again, your voice softer, and he bit his lip, his gaze dropping again, his head shaking, his eyes screwing shut. You may not be his official girlfriend, but you still cared. It wasn't like you were fucking around with anyone else, and you knew he would never be able to get a girlfriend. He was too sweet, too innocent. But you were okay with that. You didn't want to share him with anyone else. You were content with the fact that he was all yours. And he was happy with the fact that he had you.

"I'm stuck.. With my story." He mumbled, his gaze shifting, his eyes darting around the room, as if looking for a way to escape. "I don't know what to write." He admitted, his voice lowering even further, and you hummed. "I need.. inspiration.. I can't think." He continued, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

"..Inspiration, huh? I think I can help you with that." You teased, and he blinked, his eyebrows furrowing, a frown tugging at his lips. You didn't give him a chance to respond, your hands moving, sliding up the sides of his thighs, slipping underneath his sweater, the tips of your fingers brushing the warm, smooth skin of his stomach, a low, pleased hum leaving you. He gasped, his hands darting up, gripping your wrists, his eyes widening.

"W-what are you doing?" He stammered, and you smirked, leaning forward, your lips brushing against his own, the tip of your tongue poking out, running along his bottom lip. He shivered, his eyes falling shut, his grip on your wrists loosening, a low whine leaving him. "Here?" He questioned, his voice low, a hint of panic lacing his tone.

"Mm, why not? You need some ideas, don't you?" You whispered, and he swallowed, a shaky sigh leaving him, his head nodding, his hands moving from your wrists, his palms resting against the table, fingers curling around the edge, his knuckles turning white. Your hand slid down, the tips of your fingers teasing the waistband of his pants, his cock straining against the fabric, the outline of his erection visible through the tight material. He shuddered, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, his hips lifting, pressing against your hand. You hummed, your fingers hooking around the waistband, tugging it down, his cock springing free, slapping against his stomach. He hissed, his grip on the table tightening, his gaze darting around the room.

"What if someone comes in? What if the teacher comes back?" He fretted, his eyebrows furrowing, his eyes darting towards the door. You chuckled, your hand wrapping around his cock, giving him a firm stroke, a strangled moan leaving him. "Then you better stay quiet, and be a good boy for me." You purred, and he nodded, his chest heaving, his mouth hanging open, a whimper leaving him. Your eyes shifted, your gaze locking onto his face, and you grinned, a soft sigh leaving you. He looked amazing. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, a deep flush coloring his cheeks, his mouth hanging open, a trail of drool trickling down the side of his chin. He looked absolutely ruined, and you hadn't even done anything yet. The sight was enough to make you weak in the knees. You were sure he was going to be the death of you. "Awww.. You're already a mess, and I've barely even touched you." You cooed, and he whined in response, his hips jerking, thrusting into your hand.

You clicked your tongue, releasing your hold on him, his hips halting, a whine leaving him, his head falling, his forehead thumping against the table, a pout forming on his face. "Why'd you stop?" He questioned, his voice muffled, his head turning, his cheek pressing against the table, his eyes fluttering open, locking onto your own. He looked positively pathetic, his cock standing proud, throbbing, a bead of precum trickling down the side. "Beg for it." You ordered, your hands coming up, resting on your thighs, your lips curling into a smirk. He blinked, his eyes widening, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips, his head shaking. "No, please.." He pleaded, and you tutted, your hand shooting out, tangling in his hair, pulling his head up, a gasp leaving him. "Beg. Be a good boy, and beg for it. Do you want me to leave? Do you not wanna cum? Hm?" You taunted, and he shook his head, his hands moving, gripping your thighs, his head falling forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He shook his head, a shaky whimper leaving him.

"No! Please! Please, I'll be good. I'll be a good boy. I need it." He begged, his hands sliding up, clutching the front of your shirt, tugging at the fabric. "I-I'm sorry, I'll be a good boy.. I wanna cum.. Please." He cried, and you nodded, your hands reaching out, grabbing his waist, flipping him around, his back hitting the table. He squeaked, his hands darting up, his palms pressing flat against the table. You smirked, your hands pushing his legs apart, and he shuddered, his cock throbbing, another bead of precum oozing out. His glasses were knocked askew, and he blinked, his hands raising, his fingers curling around the arms, his eyes darting around the room. "Wait, my glasses-" He started, and you scoffed, grabbing the hem of his sweater, yanking it up, shoving the fabric in his mouth. His hands came up, and you tutted, grabbing his wrists, pinning them to the table, your lips pressing against his throat. He groaned, his hips lifting, and you shook your head. "Don't move." You hissed, and he nodded, his head dropping back, his eyes fluttering shut.

You grabbed ahold of his garments, tugging his pants and underwear down, tossing the clothes aside, your eyes locking onto his cock. You hummed, your teeth grazing the smooth, flawless skin of his neck, a shiver wracking his frame. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. Just relax, okay?" You whispered, and he nodded, his back arching, his breath hitching. "Mmhm." He moaned, his mouth stuffed full of material, his perky, pink buds on display. Your hands skimmed the insides of his thighs, goosebumps littering his skin, his body quivering beneath your touch. His thighs trembled, and you chuckled, your lips brushing against his pulse point. "You're so sensitive." You commented, and he whimpered, his head turning, his hands curling into fists, his chest heaving. "Relax, baby. I got you." You purred, and he relaxed, his muscles uncoiling, his limbs going limp. You leaned back, taking in the sight, and he whined, his head lolling to the side, his eyes opening, his gaze locking onto yours. Your hand reached out, grasping his cock, his hips twitching, a muffled groan leaving him, his hands flying up, covering his face. You hummed, pumping his shaft, your other hand reaching out, tweaking his nipple, a muffled moan leaving him. You grinned, your teeth grazing his throat, the sound of his soft whimpers echoing throughout the room, filling your ears.

Precum was steadily oozing out of the tip, coating the sides of his cock, and you swiped your thumb across the head, spreading the slick liquid, gathering it on your fingers and poking at the rim of his hole with your digits. He tensed, his breath hitching, and you pressed your finger inside, his muscles clamping around you. You chuckled, the sound muffled against his skin, your teeth scraping his throat, and he sighed, his hands coming up, tangling in your hair, his thighs quivering. "I-I can't-" He started, his voice muffled by the sweater, and you hushed him, pressing a kiss to his pulse point, your tongue darting out, laving the side of his neck. He sighed, his grip on your hair loosening, and you slipped a second finger inside, the muscles tightening around the intrusion, squeezing you. "O-ohh..oh fuck.. fuck-!!" He moaned, his body quivering, a shudder wracking his frame. You curled your fingers, searching for the bundle of nerves, his thighs clamping around your hand, a muffled shout leaving him. "Mmph, oh my- ah, yes, fuck, there, right there!" He cried, and you smirked, brushing against his prostate, a sob leaving him, his eyes rolling back, his head thumping against the table, his back arching.

It seemed that he had forgotten about keeping quiet, his loud, lewd moans and whimpers filling the room, his hips bucking, thrusting into your hand, fucking himself on your fingers. "F-fuck, please- I'm so close, fuck, oh, yes, I'm- I'm gonna-" He gasped, his eyes opening, a low whine leaving him. "Please, please, fuck, please.." He screamed, his cock throbbing, his entire body trembling. "C-can't take i-it an-anymore, please, p-please let me c-cum- I need to- n-need to-!"

Your tongue poked out, dragging across the expanse of his cock, your fingers still continuing their ministrations, entering and leaving plump, swollen, pink hole, his insides clamping around you, his thighs quaking. You grinned, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, your hand moving, grasping the base, your mouth sinking lower, taking him down to the hilt, his tip nudging the back of your throat. His thighs slammed together, a loud, drawn out wail leaving him, his hand shooting up, burying in your hair, pulling you down, forcing you to take him down to the base. You gagged, his cock pulsing, and his mouth opened, his tongue lolling out, drool trickling down the sides of his mouth, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, his entire body going rigid. "G-gonna-!" He whimpered, his hands tightening in your hair, his hips jerking, his back arching, his toes curling, his eyes screwing shut. "I-I-!! Fuck, fuck,, fu-ck-!! Cumming-!" He moaned, his body spasming and convulsing, a true vision of pure bliss displayed before you. A steady, thick, hot stream of cum erupted from his cock, shooting down the back of your throat, and you swallowed around him, your head bobbing, your tongue swirling around his member. He sobbed, his head thrashing from side to side, his cock spasming, his hips thrusting, fucking into your mouth. His orgasm continued, a steady, consistent flow of cum flowing down the back of your throat, his release filling you up, his taste exploding on your tongue.

His grip on your hair loosened, his hands falling away, landing on the table with a loud thud, his arms falling limp. Your mouth left his cock with a wet pop, and your fingers pulled out, leaving him gaping and empty. His eyes opened, and he panted, his chest heaving, his gaze unfocused. His head turned, and his eyes locked onto your own, a low, content moan leaving him. His gaze was half lidded, his eyes filled with nothing but pure, undeniable lust. His hand raised, his arm falling over his eyes, and he groaned.

"I hope that gave you enough inspiration for your little story, sweetheart."

[keegansgf]

"spring cleaning"

pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: spring cleaning inevitably leads to finding old memorabilia, this time, John found his old journal!

tags: domestic bliss, slight reverse comfort?, mostly fluff

A/N: I had this idea in my notes!! Though it's probably not canon to the timeline, I desperatley needed soaps journal to be mentioned in a fic somewhere soooo...

anyways, I'm back :3 (PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF SOMETHING GLITCHES I HAAATEEEEEE COPY AND PASTE FROM GRAMMARLY)

"This one's of our captain, Price."

"Price doesn't look like that now... does he?"

"No, but that's probably for the better. I won't say anything more about his beard then, for his sake. It looks better now, trust me."

You were sitting next to each other at the dining table with boxes of personal items and cleaning supplies on the floor. The smell of chemicals wafted through your tidied dining room, and afternoon sunlight flooded your windows. Every season, you and John clean your place together if he's back home with you, and fortunately, he's right next to you, flipping to another page in his old journal. He found it in one of the boxes full of old documents and notebooks. This one had more personal significance to him.

John's eyes sharpened at the page he was on. He sighed in annoyance before showing you the doodles of a pretty mean-looking german shepherd.

"This page... you already know I'm not a fan of dogs, but this was the day I found out. War is vicious as a whole, but the dogs just... I'll just say rabies treatment hurts like hell and leave it at that." Your eyebrows raised, and you looked up at him.

"Is that why you avoid our neighbors' dogs? They aren't even that large-" John immediately cut you off.

"Shhh. If we get a pet, it'll be a cat– and to be completely fair, he owns pretty big dogs."

"They're huskies, love. They're just fluffy and loud for the most part."

"They're practically the size of that man! You know what, let's stop."

The both of you laughed it off, and he continued skimming through page after page. Occasionally, you glanced at a few of the doodles he made about his surroundings or faces he met along the way. Some of the pages were more military-centered than others. If they were, you would take in a lick of the words and wouldn't bother trying to understand the rest– John's handwriting wasn't much of a help either. Of course, you didn't tell him that out of kindness, but you're sure he knows.

"I still find it odd that I didn't know you liked to draw– you're super good at it too!"

"Well, thank you, sweetheart."

"No, seriously, didn't you say you drew some of these in under ten minutes? Knowing that you quickly mapped out a room's dimensions, your technical skills are great." He laughed at your little compliments before speaking again.

"Y'know, I didn't really pick up art until the start of secondary school– It wasn't my passion– and still isn't– I probably dropped it when I was... 19, maybe? My boredom in all those safehouses got to me enough to resurface a few art skills when I finally had the time to pick up this journal." His eyes widened in shock as he skipped over about four pages quickly, but not fast enough for you to not catch what the paper was covered in. 

Blood. Lots of blood, with a few notes, maybe only a paragraph worth. John took a deep breath in and loudly exhaled. He hoped he didn't make you feel uncomfortable.

"Sorry... I didn't want you to see all that." He said, setting the journal down and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you in for a brief side hug for some consolation.

"No, it's fine, I understand. I couldn't imagine what happened to you back then."

John pursed his lips and looked at the table's surface, tapping his foot to think of a palatable explanation. He never liked telling brutal war stories to those who worried about him the most– you were in the top three of those people. However, it felt like this needed its story. He grabbed your hand to put it on his lap to soothe both of you before giving the page its context.

"Our mission went wrong, and a colleague saved us. I felt a lot of survivor's guilt at the time– probably because this wasn't the first time this guy helped us when we fucked up. Most of the team, including me, were roughed up pretty bad, hence the blood." John squeezed your hand under the table before trying to lighten the mood again.

 "It's remarkable I could pick up a pen during that, huh?" John tried to joke, but it came off a little flat. The energy in the room wasn't uncomfortable or tense– it was just unfortunate for your own reasons. Sad for you because your loved one was severely hurt, and tragic for John to expose these memories again. The silence was broken by your lover shuffling to face you.

"Alright," He started, "What matters is that I'm here now, right? I know you don't like when I brush these things off, but it's in the past now– and I'm home with you."

"You're right... I love you, but you know I worry about you. It's okay to talk to me about this stuff when you're comfortable. Bottling it up and putting a happy face around me probably doesn't help you much."

John has always been secretive about what's going on in his mind for your benefit, never his. It's impressive how he hasn't cracked yet– but if only he knew you're more than happy to talk to him about his troubles. John is big-hearted in nature, maybe too much for your liking. Someday, he'll accept that being a little selfish is okay, especially with you.

"I know, I know– we can work on it, I promise. I love you too much to have you worrying about me this much."

"Well, you should get used to it. Not a day goes by where you aren't on my mind somehow," You giggled, "Don't feel forced to talk about it, okay? Put yourself first sometimes."

"Sounds easier than it looks, I think." John said, sounding unsure of himself. He's always been the type of guy to feel unaccomplished if he couldn't do something right instantly. Mental health being a nonlinear journey didn't help his case. You picked up on his uncertainty from his tone.

"Hey, it's a learning process. We all drop out of old habits, and so will you, John. You're too hard on yourself sometimes." You got up to kiss his cheek and headed to the kitchen

"I think that's enough of the sad talk for now– I don't want to press you on the matter. How about we make lunch and continue cleaning? I don't think you've eaten since, what... 6am?" John smiled at you and got out of his seat. He picked up the box where he found his journal to put it back in storage. Then, he walked to where you were standing to give you a sweet kiss on your lips, wrapping his arms around your lower back.

"I'd love that. Thanks for letting me share all of that, by the way. I love you."

"Of course. I love you too."

John had a weight lifted off his shoulders after your chat. Maybe it took revision about the things he was troubled by to finally feel acceptance. He smiled to himself while thinking about that. You were always right in a way. That's why he loved you so much.

[unlucky-qiqi]

Helllooo! Can I please request a tall gender neutral reader whos seen as an intimidating figure, like Malleus in a way.

Theyre extremely quiet and they tend to simply talk with their eyes, but they seem to have a soft side with the boys, often passing them doodles in class or even giving them food wordlessly ~ For the Savanaclaw bois if possible! Im not sure if you indicated a limit, but if you can only do one then Ruggie will suffice!

Thank you so much and stay hydrated!

Hi, hi! Thank you so much for requesting. Sorry if this is kinda off, I'm short. You too, stay hydrated, hun.

Savanaclaw with a Tall and Timid MC

Ruggie Bucchi

The first time you met Ruggie was when you had trouble with something and luckily he was there to help you out.

Of course, nothing comes for free with Ruggie Bucchi. Even if he didn't say so, you'd still treat him for lunch as an exchange for helping you.

It was some kind of unspoken mutual agreement. He'd help you and in return you treat him something.

You'd always help with the simplest things. Hanging the clothes, buying stuff, and many different things. It lifted some weight off his shoulder.

It was during the Spelldrive tournament, Ruggie (along with Leona) wasn't there for lunch so you assumed that they were in practice.

You came to the Savanaclaw dorm and there you saw them practicing. Rather than interrupting, you left the food on the bench with a little note and drawing.

"For Ruggie Bucchi and Leona Kingscholar -y/n"

Of course, it's Savanaclaw, you really think someone wouldn't touch their food?

Whenever someone would come near the food you left, you stared at them—thinking what to do to shoo them away.

The Savanaclaw students misinterpreted this as a piercing gaze and they ran off, minding their own business.

The practice ended and Ruggie took notice of what you left on the bench.

He looked around to find you while holding his food. Even though the dorm has its own set of tall students, it's hard to not take notice of you.

"You brought these? Thanks. I'll give Leona's share too but don't mind if I took some from his."

Leona Kingscholar

No matter how tall you are, you're still a herbivore in his eyes.

Although, he hated the fact that you somewhat reminded him of Malleus.

One good thing about Leona sleeping is that you could tell your worries to him without him telling anything. But sometimes he'd be awake, pretend sleeping, and gets annoyed by your rambling.

"If they bother you talk to them. Just don't get too noisy when I'm sleeping" type of thing would say.

You tried? I think. If talking with people isn't your forte, you tried to talk with gifts, touches, and eye-contact.

Although he gives half-assed advices, it kind of did help, sometimes.

So as a 'thank you' gift, you'd always fall in line first in the Cafeteria for the food he likes. (Even before Ruggie could stand in line)

Sometimes he's too lazy to even do his homework, Ruggie had to call you.

It was a habit of drawing doodles while helping Leona study. You'd pass him off notes with small drawings.

It made things easy to remember for this lazy lion.

"Have more faith in yourself, Herbivore."

Jack Howl

Jack Howl is a man, that I believe, that couldn't care less about what people look like. Everyone in the campus may feel intimidated by you but Jack would be that one person who will approach you if you seem to need help.

You tried to find words of what you will say but it was left in stares.

"I can't really know what your trying to say without any words..."

He'd try to find other ways to communicate with you without the use of talking. Overtime, he understood what you meant simply by looking at your eyes.

Whether it's assignments, projects, or exams, Jack will always be there to help. And you'd help him back too.

During Spelldrive tournaments you'd often give him an "Certain Victory" charm, to wish him luck in his games.

"Oh thank, I'll do my best!"

Without saying a word, your eyes sparkled with delight. He gave a large smile in return.

Win or not, he was happy to have a friend that wished him luck.

A/n: I kind of based reader from Aharen-san.

Requests are Open!

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

New Start

For Maribat March day 15 theme new start

Master List

Marinette was lucky, she could admit that. Not because of the pocket-sized goddess of creation and luck she carried in her purse, but because of where she is. Sure, living with a magical emotional terrorist isn’t ideal, but it’s better than what her fate would have been had she never been found. 

Growing up on the streets of Gotham had been rough to put it lightly. Very lightly. In her time she had seen many good souls come and go, some to their deaths, some to better lives. She was grateful she was the latter, not many she knew had the opportunity she had to have a new start.

In other circumstances, Tom and Sabine would be horrible parents. After all 90 percent of the time they left her to her own devices. However in this case, it’s fine. For one, she was once a street kid, she knows how to take care of herself. And she is also Scarlet Luck, protector of Paris, wielder of the Ladybug miraculous, and newly appointed guardian of the miraculous. So them turning a blind eye to her sudden disappearances did wonders for her. 

All she needed in this life was a roof over her head and some decent food. Having her adoptive parents be bakers was a plus too. 

The only downside to this life was school. Not because she hated learning or the places school provided. No, she loved sitting in the silence of the library and doing her schoolwork or reading a book. And she especially loved the art room, where she found her love of designing and sewing. 

The problem was the people, the staff that mattered to her and her future, were all pushovers and she wasn’t allowed to transfer into Ms. Mendeleiev’s class. Ms. Bustier was the type to let the kids figure it out on their own, rather than step in when she was most needed. And Principal Damocles shouldn’t even be a principal with how much he caves in when it comes to the Mayor’s daughter or Rossi. 

She was thankful, however, that within her first month the students at Francoise Dupont learned not to mess with her. Or speak to her. Or be near her in general. And she was perfectly okay with that. She quite liked her spot in the back with Nathaniel, one of the only people she considered a friend. 

They had a silent agreement, which was to be silent and leave the other alone. Nathaniel would draw while Marinette would sketch and the 2 had each other's backs. Like when Marinette would whisper Nathaniel the answers during English and he would do the same with history. 

He along with Marc, Ondine, Aurore, Mireillie, and Kagami were the only ones she considered friends. Which means they were the only ones that knew why she was so on edge with the Wayne family being in Paris. Not only did none of them know how to control their emotions, but she was sure that Jason Todd-Wayne was bound to be akumatized. Why? Because every kid that was ever on the streets of Gotham knew his story. 

He was street smart, a dork, but most importantly aggressive. On the streets he picked fights with any who tried to cross him, and when he was adopted he fought the rich kids that went to Gotham Academy. That was another thing everyone knew, he hit it big when he got adopted by the billionaire that was Bruce Wayne. While she wasn’t on the street when he was she knew he was trouble. The whole Wayne family was, whether they knew it or not. 

She already had to deal with Chat every battle, she did not want to have to deal with one of the Waynes becoming an akuma. Not only would it cause an international affair considering how important they are to America, but it could get the attention of American reporters and then the Justice League might want to get involved. She didn't want to deal with the Justice League. 

Kagami was the only one brave enough to point out how she might be afraid that people from her hometown were coming to Paris. But she was wrong and Marinette made sure she never brought it up again. Through whatever means necessary.

Now one reason that Kagami was her best friend was because they agreed on something. Never hesitate. If you have an opportunity, take it. Something important that every street kid knows. 

Well here she was, standing in front of her classroom, hesitating. She could hear her classmates talking away, whichever Waynes were here trying to gain control of the situation. She guessed her teacher was either doing something out of the classroom or not bothering to get the class in check. 

With one final wish that today wouldn't be as shitty as she hoped she opened the door. According to Nathaniel she threw it open. 

And she was right, at the front of the classroom were 3 Wayne's trying to get her class to quiet down. Buster was nowhere in sight. 

Since Nino and Adrien were closest to the door they noticed her first, stopping their conversation and trying to 'subtly' stare at her. The others quickly following their lead. All eyes, including the Waynes, were staring at her. Wonderful.

Literally all she had to do was roll her eyes and everyone averted their eyes. It was always like something out of a movie. She made her way up the stairs up to Nathaniel and her seats. Grabbing a couple of macarons out of her bag she handed them over to him before setting her notebook and pencil on her desk. 

It looked like Lila was about to say something, but a glare had her swallowing her words back down her throat. Staring straight ahead she raised her eyebrow at the Waynes that were still staring, wondering if they were going to try and continue what they were originally trying to discuss. 

After a moment the oldest among them started talking again, the other two joined in, however she could tell when they would all cast her glances. She simply acted blissfully unaware, writing notes down for her and Nathaniel while he drew. She had no idea what his grades would be like if it weren't for her. 

-

This whole week had been full of surprises for Bruce. First the League finds out that there has been a magical terrorist in Paris for 3 years that they didn't know about, and these past 3 years children have been fighting him. 

So his family being detectives, they were sent to try and get information on the ‘akuma class’. He wanted it to just be him, Dick, Tim, and maybe Cass, but of course Dick wanted the whole family to come. Try to make a family vacation out of it despite the fact that there was a magical emotional terrorist that they were trying to track down and they needed to keep their emotions in check. He means no offense but that is something neither Jason nor Damian can do. 

But somehow Dick was able to get the whole family to come because only Dick can do that. And now he had Tim and Dick with him to try to talk to the akuma class about a presentation on starting a business a ploy to try and subtly get information out of them. 

They had already done background checks on them all and their families just to be safe and were thoroughly impressed by what they saw. Many of them were gifted in sports, arts, and academics, so perhaps they were just unlucky. 

The only one that concerned him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Only Alfred was aware that the girl was from Gotham, she was specifically a street kid. Adopted 6 years ago by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain the girl seemed quite bright. She had excellent grades and was in the art club. However he feared what his children might do with this information. And if another reason was because she had black hair, blue eyes, and a guaranteed tragic backstory being from Gotham that set his adoption instincts on fire NO ONE HAD TO KNOW! 

So here he was with Dick and Tim, trying to get this ‘akuma class’ to quiet down so they could start the presentation. The teacher has stepped out of the room to check something with the principal and ‘give them the floor’. She probably wanted to get a reason to escape this class, he might try to get an investigation done on this school and their faculty. 

From what he observed, Marinette seemed to be absent while most of the class had seemed to be paying attention to this one girl with brown hair in a sausage hairstyle, Lila Rossi, a pathological liar, although the class didn’t seem to know that. All except a redheaded boy in the back, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, a pink haired girl on the second row, Alixandra Kubdel, and a boy with a green shirt and glasses on the third row, Maxton Kante. There was also a blond boy, Adrien Agreste, who seemed to be listening to what the girl was saying with a fake smile he knew all too well. Poor boy. 

His sons weren’t having much more luck trying to gain the attention of the class. The redhead looked to be drawing, the green shirt and glasses boy was working on what appeared to be a robot, while the pink haired girl was on her phone. Every once in a while it seemed like she sent them a sympathetic glance, the other two boys too involved in what they were doing to give them any sympathy. 

Just as he was sure his kids were about to reach their breaking points in walked the one person he hoped not to see. She slammed the door open and suddenly the whole class quieted down immediately. Now his sons were looking at her as well. She couldn’t have been more than 5’3 and she was only 16, yet she managed to silence this whole class just by appearing. 

The class also seemed to be staring at her before she rolled her eyes and they all averted their gazes. It was one of the most movie-like things he had ever witnessed. 

She walked up the steps to the back, with each step she seemed to command attention before digging into her bag and handing Nathaniel who had once been doodling a bag of macarons. He seemed to appreciate them as he gave her a small smile before proceeding to munch on one. 

Lila who had once had the attention of the class seemed to be fuming now that the attention was off of her. It seemed like she was about to say something but stopped when she caught sight of the glare Marinette was giving her. 

Marinette then proceeded to turn her attention to him and his sons, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if they were going to start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his sons exchange a look he knew all too well, before starting the presentation. And if he or his sons casted looks over to Marinette one too many times, no one noticed. 

Bonus - 

“WE FOUND A NEW WAYNE!” Dick shouted, far too happy with his discovery. 

“Tt, what are you on about Grayson?” Damian scoffed, curiosity and jealousy bubbling in his mind at the thought of a new Wayne. 

“There’s a girl in the akuma class, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had black hair and blue eyes, both things needed to be adopted by Bruce.” Tim stated. 

“Does she have a tragic backstory?” Jason jokingly asked. 

“Do not look up anything on Ms. Dupain-Cheng. She has a family and I will not be adopting her. Am I clear?” Bruce demanded, waiting for everyone to agree before going to take a shower. 

“Babs?” Cass questioned, knowing the girl had to have found something. 

“Looking,” Babs replied, “Oh.” She stopped typing and just stared at the screen. 

“What’d you find?” Steph asked the question they were all wondering from Babs’ unusual reaction. 

“Guys,” Babs started, turning the screen to face them, “She’s from Gotham.” 

And from there all hell broke loose.

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Inspired by this post I saw a while back: 

Marinette being a street kid from Gotham but had no previous connection to any of the Waynes was intriguing so I did it. I’m probably going to do a backstory chapter later on, just unsure which day I’ll do it on. 

Of course yesterday I was early so today I was late. The universe needs its balance. So sorry for the late post guys, I blame the universe. 

@maribatmarch-2k21

[headphonemouse]

Peter and I "wrote" a "story" together featuring these three characters, so I decided to draw them

Design process and other scribbles under the cut

There was a comic (found here) with what you might call the Princess and the Gardener's beta designs. The text in that comic is an edited version of my theatrics. It's a bit difficult to explain so any questions can be directed to Peter @megacarapa

After I'd done the comic, I decided to try and seriously make their designs more appealing to me, and put them in áo dài because I liked the high collars. I ended up really liking it so I kept it and researched a bit about more Vietnamese clothes and hairstyles, which was mostly used for the Princess's design

This set was mostly just to see if I could draw the same character at different ages and make them still recognizable. The answer is "sort of, with difficulty." I didn't put much thought into their younger designs. I haven't studied faces of diverse ages, which will be a problem because there are going to be scenes of these characters as children as well as older adults. I made the conscious choice around here-ish to think about triangles when drawing the Gardener, ovals for the Princess, and rectangles for the Shoemaker

This was a doodle, trying to get to know the characters better from how they see each other

By this point I'd finally been satisfied with my Vietnamese clothing research and finalized their designs

The Gardener is wearing áo bà ba, and their hair is secured with a plain hair slide. They're about 5'6" tall. They were originally kind of a stoic person, but I thought it'd be more fun to make them obviously flustered in certain situations. They're big on following rules.

The Princess is wearing áo dài, and her wardrobe changes every now and then between plain white and decorated with elaborate beads and dye patterns. She wears expensive jewelery, but I didn't bother looking up what was in fashion and I forget to draw it half the time so it's whatever. She's 5' tall. She maintains a proper appearance and demeanor most of the time that hides her true intentions.

The Shoemaker is the most fun to draw. He's about 5'10", and I tried to make him look more muscley but didn't quite get there. He's also wearing áo dài, of lower quality than the Princess' but he still looks flashy. He's wearing one dangly jade earring on his right ear and has two cartilage piercings on his left ear. He's a reliable and ambitious guy, and made friends with both the Gardener and the Princess when they were young. He's supportive of the Gardener's crush and doesn't care much for tradition. He has a limit to his patience, indicated by the counter that sometimes appears next to his head.

[treasure-hwa]

skate park

pairing: yeosang x neutral reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

synopsis: while trying to remember you are worthy good things, you meet a boy who will make everything feels better.

word count: 1.220

author's note: in general, Yeosang skater boy, because everybody deserves it. To the lovely @ateezstanlove, who said she was going away while I was in the middle of this imagine, then, came back few weeks later. Girl, don't do that to me again, thanks. Anyway, hope you all like this.

Another stressful day of dealing with fake friends, mean people and bad thoughts. Your energy was low, not the lowest, because you definitely had worse days, but low enough to make you stompe out of school and go straight to the skate park a few blocks away. Did you skate? No, you never even tried, but the skate park was a place that helped you relax, the sunset and breeze at the end of the day were irresistible and seemed to wash your worries and anger away.

Most of the times you went there, it was empty, only the sounds of kids playing on the playground beside it could be heard and they did not annoy you. This time, though, a boy was there. The boy carried a red backpack on his back and was agile on top of his skateboard, not vacillating once. You sat on one of the ramp curves and tried to ignore him, focusing on you, but the sounds of the skate wheels were quite comforting actually.

The sun, that was slowly beginning to set, sun hit your face, warming it, and the breeze made your clothes shuffle while you swung your feet. You started thinking about your day, going back to the mean things you heard and trying to reassure yourself about each of them. “Your problems are nothing like mine”, they are not similar, but both are valid; “Stop being an attention seeker”, you are not, you just wanted a simple “hello, how are you?”, to be included; “You can’t even do this right, how...”, it is okay if you are not good at something, that does not mean you are a failure; “Don’t you think you bothered them enough?”, if you bother those people, you are not meant to be together. Your mind was slowly healing, your soul going back to normal and...

— Hi.

A deep voice broke your moment of peace, scaring you, who would have fallen off the ramp if it was not for the boy’s arm in front of you, preventing your pathetic fall.

— I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you like that.

Turning to him, you took in his appearance. A light pink beanie hiding most of his brown hair, a small black earring on his ear, black sweater, earphones hanging on his neck and black jeans that hugged his thighs perfectly. The boy looked like a total skater one and was incredibly good looking, you went far thinking that he could probably be the most handsome boy you have ever met.

— It's okay. — You coughed, pretending you were not checking him out. — I'm easily scared. But hi.

The boy rubbed his nape with his free hand, giggling and thinking of a way to keep talking to you. He did not know why he walked up to your sitting place, but you looked cute enjoying your surroundings and swinging your legs like a little kid, you were not even paying attention to him, so he could not help himself, he needed to stop his skating and talk to you.

— I'm Yeosang. You? — When you told him your name, he repeated it quietly, as if making sure he would remember.

— You skate well — you complimented.

— Oh? Did you see that? Thank you.

You nodded a bit awkwardly. Understand, you were never the type to talk to pretty boys, let alone a strange one, so Yeosang coming to your side and starting conversation made you flustered.

— Do you skate? — He picked up his skateboard full of drawings.

— No, never tried. By the way, your skateboard is so colorful, it's cool.

— Yeah, I agree. My friend likes to decorate things and said once my plain white skateboard was boring, so he asked me if he could draw on it. I let him and the result was pretty amazing.

The object was black, but had all the important Adventure Time characters drawn on it.

— Is it your favorite cartoon?

— Yeah, I only asked him to draw something that matched me, so he did this. I really liked the result.

— Ahh, got it. It's beautiful. A friend of mine likes to decorate things too, so she did this on my backpack. — You showed him the straps of your backpack decorated with positive words, flowers and doodles of your favorite activities.

He gasped seeing them, then suggested introducing your friends, because they would for sure get along so well. You agreed on that, even if you both barely knew each other to be introducing friends and probably would not do that.

Yeosang was about to speak again, but a stronger breeze hit you both before he could, so you stood there, appreciating nature all around you. When it was possible to talk again, you both spoke at the same time:

— Do you wanna try skating?

— What were you listening to?

He giggled along you, heads turned to the side and a slight blush coming up to both faces. The boy told you to answer first.

— Maybe not today, okay? I really don’t want to fall.

Yeosang said there was no problem, already anxious to see you again, but masking it by talking about the songs he was previously listening to. That way, you spent several minutes talking as if you knew each other for months, not merely for an hour. The boy was quite pleasant to have around, his smile was cute and a bit contained, as was his laugh, but you felt so close and good with him already. You felt so secure that you decided to confide in him the reason you were there when he asked what you were doing on a skate ramp if you did not like to skate.

— This is… my safe place.

— Safe from what? If you don’t mind me asking, obviously.

— No, it’s okay. Here is safe from cruel people trying to bring me down, safe from thoughts that drive me insane; the nature around here calms me, it seems to understand my worries and heal my heart.

— That’s quite beautiful, you know? — You chuckled, shaking your head. — I’m being honest. I think it’s cool you come here and enjoy your surroundings while remembering yourself you’re worthy tranquility and peace. I barely know you, but I think you are worthy.

— How do you know that? I could be the meanest person in the world trying to gain your attention by creating another personality to myself.

— Are you?

— Well, no, but…

— Then that’s it. I trust you.

Chuckling again and looking down, you glanced at your watch, noticing it was too late, time to be home. The sun had set and the lamp posts around were on, however neither of you paid attention to it earlier.

— Yeosang, it was great to meet you, but I need to go now.

— Ah. Okay, no problem, but, maybe, we could… you know. — The boy scratched his nape, embarrassed to ask for your number out loud, so he stretched his phone for you and looked away. Fortunately for him, you giggled and took the phone from his hands, adding your contact and saying “send me a hi later, skater boy” before leaving him with a teeny weeny piece of your heart behind.