#AND LOOK AT LADYBUG'S ACCESSORIES

[lucydoodlessometimes]

what once was in darkness, is totally different in the light...

"Courage in me" screenshot redraw ft. my personal ladybug redesign!

[tears-of-xion]

Marinette is ready for a day out in the sunshine!

-

Please do not use or re-post my artwork without my permission. Thank you!   (reblogs, however, are welcome and appreciated)

I do not own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, nor it’s characters. All rights to their owners.

[friendlyneighborhoodkinkshamer]

I think chat noir should get a gun

[zoe-oneesama]

The Kwamis! Some of these came easier than others, but since Angelic Layer has no magic involved, all the kwamis became human~ They won't be very prevalent, they're mostly here to fill in background character roles - shop clerks, MCs Tournament Directors, fans - so they won't have a whole lot of speaking roles (aside from, you know, the MCs who're there to commentate on the fights lol). But I thought I'd give them all a nice nod in the story somewhere.

As expected, Tikki and Plagg are the main MCs. Marinette and Adrien's fights will be going on concurrently so Tikki will be commentating Marinette's fights while Plagg commentates on Adrien's. They'll have the most dialogue of the kwamis, so I do want them to have unique ways of discussing what they're seeing.

Pollen will be working directly for the Bourgeois'. As a VIP with a direct relationship with the international director of Angelic Layer, Chloe has her own private practice layer in her home and Pollen is in charge of it's upkeep and maintenance. She matches Armand the Bulter's levels of competence.

Trixx is a Rena Rouge mega fan. They've been following Alya's blog for as long as they can remember and are mega stoked that Alya moved to their city. When Alya starts to doubt herself, it's Trixx's voice that can be heard cheering her on to not give up.

Nooroo and Duusu are servants in the Agreste Estate. Unknown to Adrien, they are fully aware of his sneaking around to play and the two do what they can to make excuses and deflect Nathalie when Adrien isn't where he's supposed to be. They're rooting him on from the shadows!

Wayzz is the adult son of Marianne and Fu. He brings them to Angelic Layer fights against his will because the two really enjoy them. The two seem to be really invested in Ladybug and Chat Noir's career (and the behind the scenes shenanigans that they secretly spy on).

Longg is Kagami's bodyguard. Like Nooroo and Duusu, they are fully aware of what Kagami is doing behind her mother's back and feigns ignorance when Kagami pulls something..."sneaky" to get to a fight secretly.

Here's where we get into some existing jobs from the show:

Orikko and Kaalki are the "Layer Hot Girls (and boy)". lol I just thought it was funny that Angelic Layer even has them.

Mullo is the sales clerk at the Princess Piffle store (the store where you can buy your Angel and all the accessories). All of them lol. Mullo and her many many sisters who look just like her.

Barkk and Fluff take similar but still different roles (the uniforms are ALMOST the same but there are some tiny differences). So Barkk is the receptionist at the Practice Ring (literally you pay to reserve a mini-layer to practice on) while Fluff is the waitress/cashier at the cafeteria at the Tournament Center.

(and back to making shit up lol)

Daizzi is a nurse where Rose goes to the hospital and she has segmental localized vitiligo. Rose is particularly close to Daizzi since she helps Rose make her donations to the hospital.

Sass is the backstage directory, aka, the guy who makes things run. He has an earpiece that has the same diamond pattern as his pants on it! The anime does show one person who helps backstage, but I wanted to have a little fun with Sass's look and tie in to him being "in charge" of the kwamis.

Ziggy works at Socqueline's family art supply shop, which is frequented by Angelic Layer players who are on a bit of a budget. They love talking with the customers about their angels, though mostly the design part.

Stompp is Ivan's foster mother and Roarr his foster sister (Stompp's bio-daughter). I actually didn't think of what kind of job this outfit would be good for, but I think she'd make a good security guard - usually working at rock concerts, which she bonds with Ivan over, but she's also been hired for Angelic Layer tournaments. Sometimes sore losers get a little...violent.

Roarr falls in love with Juleka's Angel Purple Tigress immediately thanks to her pre-existing love of tigers in general. She's even bold enough to proclaim her love to Juleka herself!

Xuppu is Ondine's sibling and a fan of King Monkey, though they'll go out of their way to make fun of Kim himself. Secretly, they're very invested in Kim's career and get very upset on his behalf when he loses.

[lustkillers]

Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader

｡ﾟ･ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader

✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)

⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂‍↕️

requests are open! <3

THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinctive smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?

at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.

you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.

a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.

with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.

simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.

"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.

you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.

"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.

you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.

his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.

simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.

"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.

you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.

"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.

you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.

he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.

"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.

"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.

the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.

his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.

you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.

your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.

his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.

simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.

your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.

"ditto." you whispered, smiling.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Not sure if you’ve ever done something like this, but I think a miraculous ladybug style love square featuring Danny would be absolutely hilarious. It can be with literally any bat (I’m partial to either Damian or Tim, but honestly any would be amazing). But literally just Danny coming to Gotham and going out as Phantom, running into the bat of choice and BOOM instant crush. And then Danny running into that same bats civilian ID and BOOM another instant crush going the opposite direction. Not particularly picky about who has the civilian crush, and who has the vigilante crush, but we would definitely need to see interactions between all four identities a la Miraculous.

Danny Fenton loathes Bruce Wayne. It's not because Sam's parents have often attempted to pawn off their daughter onto the guy or that Danny, as her once boyfriend, felt threatened by him. He can see the intelligence in Bruce's eyes, and the man still acts the way he does.

What's worse is that they are the same age, which means when Sam's parents started pushing for her to attend galas at age fifteen, Danny had been forced along to help deflect annoying rich boys. He met Bruce hiding behind curtains, making faces at his butler when the older gentleman attempted to push fifteen-year-old Bruce back onto the dance floor.

He would have felt sympathy for the wealthy heir—being an orphan so young with everyone around him foaming at the mouth for his wealth and titles was rough on anyone—were it not for how he spoke to poor Mr. Pennyworth.

Bruce acted like Mr.Pennyworth was an accessory to his image, as if the man wasn't treating him with the obvious care and attention one would a son.

Danny found his feet, leading him to Wayne just as the teenager instructed Mr.Pennyworth to wait in the car—four hours, four hours, in the freezing cold!

The first words he ever said to Bruce Wayne were, "You do not talk to him like that, you self-centered jerk!"

Then he had to dodge a fist because apparently Wayne had anger issues, but Danny had been dodging ghosts for an entire year. He sidesteps and pushes the boy on his ass. Mr.Pennyworth seemed frozen by the wall, and Wayne dared to stare up at him like someone standing up to him was such a wonder.

Sam had called him away, so with a long look down his nose at the rich boy, he spun around and strutted away.

___________________________________________________________

Bruce Wayne adored Danny Fenton.

Ever since the firecracker appeared in his life, with a grace that rivaled even his best of masters, Bruce has been infatuated with him. Fenton came from a small town in Illinois as a guest of the Manson family.

The Manson were new money, having only developed their wealth two generations ago. They had no real social connections and lived in the middle of nowhere. Mr. and Mrs. Manson were eager to pair their daughter off with someone with better standing, but it is evident that they only pushed a little for her to find a rich husband.

They wouldn't have allowed Fenton to tag along if they genuinely wanted their daughter to build connections through marriage. The couple just seemed to want their daughter to stop being goth.

The teenager was unapologetically middle-class, and Bruce found himself watching Fenton move about Galas with a defiant air that left him breathless. He insulted people to their faces, returned passive aggression tenfold, and someone tried to talk down to him; Fentn had the brain to quickly turn the tides.

The Manson's standing shouldn't have shielded him, not when they barely had any social power, yet somehow no one dared to bother Fenton outside of events. It was all so fascinating.

Fenton didn't often come to Gotham, as the Mansons mainly stayed in their own little part of the world, but every year, without fail, they were there for the Charity event in Spring and the Halloween Fest. The dark-haired, sharp-eyed eye, blue-eyed boy would be at Miss Manon's side, muttering into the goth girl's ear.

Bruce's heart constantly fluttered when the days were approaching the two high society events because it would mean seeing Fenton again. Years passed with Alfred attempting for Bruce to strike a friendship with Fenton, but something always made Bruce nervous.

Excited and nervous, like he was about to hit the drop of a rollercoaster. It was a rush whenever their eyes locked, even if Fenton's hardened into a dangerous glare.

Eventually, Bruce went off to do his training, finally getting close to his goal of making the rot of Gotham pay. He didn't see Fenton for a while, and the angry teenager lingered in the back of his mind until Bruce rocked back to Gotham with his new Brucie persona.

Only to have his jaw drop the moment he caught sight of Fenton. The boy was now the CEO of VladCo. after his godfather had taken a sabbatical for medical reasons. Fenton was still unapologetic about his roots and seemed enraged whenever Bruce brought out his playboy persona.

"Cut the crap," Fenton hissed into Bruce's face, unaware of the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. "We both know you're not dumb. I can see your intelligence, and how you're downplaying it is sickening."

Bruce fought the urge to fan himself, heart racing, as he smiled absentmindedly. "Whatever do you mean?"

Fenton made a screech of outrage before turning and stomping away. Bruce hated watching him go, but he loved to watch him leave.

"Sir," Alfred muttterd as he stepped up behind him. Bruce snapped out of his staring, turning his head slightly to pick up the man's whispered words better. "A break-in at Gotham Bank. Nine hostages"

"Understood." He made a show of diving into the fountain with Fenton, looking like he would pop a blood vessel as an excuse to leave. As he drives, Bruce Wayne fades into Batman in more ways than a costume change, and his mind races with plans to save the hostages.

He just hopes that Dofus Phantom doesn't get in his way again. The ghost would pop up randomly in his city, and no matter how many times Batman threatened him, the idiot came back again and again.

Phantom had no detective mindset. He stopped crimes right before him without considering the bigger picture. Dofus probably died in a small town with low crime rates. He didn't understand the complications of deep corruption, power vacuums, or gang violence.

Out of all the people who could have turned into a poltergeist, it had to be the clumsy fanboy Phantom.

[snowsinterlude]

doll parts.

(coriolanus snow x bella baxter!reader)

summary: having been brought back to live recently, you seemed to have lost your memories and still had a lot to re-learn. with that being said, you were personally intrigued by whatever 'fucking' is. luckily, coriolanus knew exactly how to teach you.

based on this ask.

c.w: horror (based in frankenstein and poor things), smut, coriolanus snow, nymphomaniac behavior (on the part of reader), spitting, p in v, porn with plot, rough sex, slapping (m. recieving), overstimulation, angry sex, squirting, edging, creampie, unproctected sex, innocent reader, naïve behavior, dumbification. casca highbottom is mentioned but he's not the main focus, 'virginity' loss, there's gonna be a lot of 'of course's" here

with the shocks of the electricity running through your new brain, you had opened your eyes to the sight of casca highbottom, a scientist who wanted to prove the point that he could bring people back to life.

of course, playing god wasn't exactly allowed, but what does corruption doesn't do?

with a white curly lock in your lustrous hair being something new to your forgotten appearance, you stared at the man in front of you, whom claimed to be your father. and of course he wasn't. he wanted to prove a point; this point being that he could create the perfect woman and shape her into the submissive obedient element you were supposed to become.

you didn't like that idea, and on the first minute he looked somewhere other than you when he brought you to see the outside world, you ran away, wanting to learn whatever you had to learn without the chains that casca highbottom had you in.

it didn't took long for you to come across coriolanus snow, a renowed academy student who was always against highbottom's experiments in dead people and animals. and he was so gentle to you, probably because of your doe heterochromatic eyes (another result of highbottom's tests on your previously dead body), or probably because of your innocent smile and the way your experience with the dead of living beings was killing mosquitoes and butterflies, saying that "there is no meaning for me to let this thing live if it annoys me."

of course, he took that out of your head with the argument that "then, if i, someday end up annoying you, would you kill me?" and you seemed to thought for a long while (that was his concern and the moment he gulped down), shaking your head, but saying "if you gave me anything other than kisses and books and shelter, i would." and he laughed at the way you said that, your eyes almost jumping out of your skull, always so sickeningly wide. you were so naïve, he truly wanted to open your kull, unspool your brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down whatever it was that passed through your head.

he would never do it, though. not when you looked so pretty when swallowing his spit on that same night, licking your lips after a kiss.

then, in the day before, sitting on the couch on his studies, you looked at the page of the book you were leavmfing through, you saw an image of a woman and a man's silhouette. taking advantage of the few things highbottom teached you, you read outloud:

"mis...sio...neh...ry" of course, you still had a lot of difficulty reading, but nothing that could cause harm, coriolanus still tried his best to teach you how to read. he was always so... kind. you wanted to eat him up. but pretty things sometimes are accessories that can't go into your stomach, and that's what coriolanus told you when you tried eating a ladybug, claiming she was too cute for you not to eat it. "coryo,"

"yes, doll?" he asked, reading the papers he had on his hands.

"what is missionary sex?" that caught him off guard.

so now, after explaining how it worked and why it existed, the platinum blonde man finished by saying it could bring pleasure to your body, but it was mainly used for reproduction purposes.

you didn't really care about that last part, the second you heard him talking about 'pleasure', you immediatly got up, almost abruptly walking to him, your bare feet stepping on whatever it had on the ground, the skirt of your dress, that he got used to seeing you without, the shows you were supposed to wear to an early party that you never put on, his jacket, some papers, and finally, you were in front of him.

"i wanna do it," you voiced, taking the papers out of his hand "i wanna do it with you." and "i wanna have missionary with you." you said, eyes wide open to stare at him, you almost never blinkedat all.

"it's sex, doll. missionary is just a position." he said, laughing. though the thought of you riding him made his dick throb.

"position?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "then there's more?" he nodded to you.

"there are much more positions on the kamasutra than pages on the bible." he said, and you smiled happily, your teeth showing up as well as your voice echoed:

"show me." you said "sex me- fuck, is fucking, right? fuck me. in the positions of the kamasutra." you said.

and god, he was so happy to take you by the waist, kiss you and lead your leg to wrap around his waist.

it didn't took many minutes for you to be without your bloomers, your panties put aside for him to grind his cock on your cunt, teasing you, and you didn't knew, but you felt like you were soaked up in something sticky- your wetness. "t-that's not missionary," you moaned, bucking your hips back at his teasing moves.

"you're right," he answered, groaning as he kissed your frowning face. "that's the clasp position, doll." with his hands on your waist, and yours on his shoulders, he finally penetrated you, earning a long moan out of your mouth.

you weren't a virgin, though you didn't know that, you used to have a husband on your previous life before you died, but you were never satisfied and you have never been- not until he slowly thrusted inside your pussy, making you feel every inch of his dick inside you.

"fuck!" you cried, a cry without tears as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"what is it?" he asked, a moan leaving his throat as you ripped the shirt and bite his neck, too impatient to unbutton all of the buttons that were prohibiting you from seeing his body.

"i wanna see you," you moaned, slowly bucking your hips back, mouth agape as you let a rude moan leave your head "i wanna see your body."

he chuckled at your words, his hands still holding your body to keep you still as he fucked you. however, it wasn't bad, but you wanted to see how it would feel if it was fast.

"f-faster, please. just wanna see- s-see how it feels." you pleaded, your eyesight blurry as you looked down, seeing how your bare pussy took him in so well, almost devouring him into you.

he promptly obeyed you, going faster and deeper, a moan leaving your throat as his skin slapped against yours. and to see you squirming under him felt like heaven- a sight that no one but him could capture.

even when your walls squeezed his cock and you came around him, your pussy gushing around him, your stamina was still higher than his, which led to you edging him, not letting him cum until you felt so tired that you'd be passed out by his side.

which didn't happen for a long time. for at least six rounds, you were still edging him, slapping him every time he was ready to cum. you didn't allow it.

and by now, you were riding him non-stop, your eyes shut closed as you yourself abused your cunt on his cock, who throbbed painfully and made him throw his head back when he finally cummed inside you, stuffing you rope after rope.

"hey!" you called out slapping his chest, as he still gripped his nails on your skin, marking small crescent moon phases on your skin. he looked at you with an angry frown. "i don't wanna stop just now! i want more!" you said, not caring about his growling state, you thought it looked cute on him.

"god, you're terrible." he grunted, changing positions. "just this one more time and it's over." you nodded, agreeing with him as he finally slapped your clit, making you mewl and squirm under him. "see? you're too sensible, if we keep going," he thrusted "you're gonna have a difficult time walking straight."

"i can always dance." you said, legs spread to let him pound into you. he chuckled, slapping your thigh.

"let's see." he kissed you with a slight open mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he thrusted into you, letting you be a pillow princess for once in the day as you scarred his back with your nails, his pace was quicker than before, probably quicker than yours, and it made you melt entirely, your breathing became heavy and rapid.

when he pinched your clit, you felt strangely dumber, moaning into the kiss that was soon broke apart.

he spit into your mouth, his eyes boring into yours. "swallow it." and you did, crying from the pleasure as he rubbed your clit. "good girl, doll." he smiled.

"d-don't stop, coryo, please. just a bit more and i'll cum- i-i promise i'll let you rest after!" you mewled, squirming as he pound into you.

"hm, i don't know, doll. when i said i wanted to cum you didn't really allowed me to. why should i allow you?" he asked, pecking your temple.

"please. please! i can't hold it in!" you said, your boobs bouncing into the corset you were still wearing. he got rid of it in the blink of an eye, and you didn't even noticed where it had gone, too focused on the pleasure in between your legs as you cried.

he smiled to the view of your body. of course there was a bunch of scars there and there that were already healed, specially the one that connected your neck, but it didn't really mattered to his dick, neither to him. he loved just how doe eyed you were, how dumbly you asked about things and how you didn't questioned him more than once about something, like now.

"i-i'm sorry, i-i just wanted more. i didn't thought about your pleasure- s-sorry, please, let me cum! pleease!!"

"hm. no" he said, grabbing your ass and kissing your temple oh so kindly as he fucked you raw. "let's see how long you will last since you were so hungry for it."

and you didn't last much, just likenhe thought. the more you concentreated on the feeling of his dick on your cunt and the way his balls slapped against your ass, the closer you were to cumming again, and you did just after he came inside you again, smiling dumbly at him as you squirt on his cock, too sensitive from your previous orgasms.

"i'm sorry, coryo" you said, still teary eyed as you hugged him, hand pawing at his chest.

"for?" he frowned, he had already pulled his trousers up, guarding his dick into the fabric.

"f...for edging you, 'm sorry." you said, sleepy and pouty. he chuckled.

"it's okay," he said, caressing your head "at least you said sorry."

and you slept the most comfortable sleep of your post-mortem life, even drooling a bit on his chest, but he loved you just too much to do something about your innocent, naïve nature other than love and cherish it.

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part eight

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.2k

words in italics: whatever language you like

“Make sure you stick close to your uncle the entire time and remember: if you don’t feel well or if, at any point, you want to leave, just tell Uncle Robert and he’ll get you out of there, okay?”

Elisa nodded as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

“Alright. Put on your headphones and follow your uncle.”

“Follow.” Elisa pronounced the word slowly, before she continued in English, “you said it wrong, Mom. You say it like this.” 

Then she repeated the word again.

You smiled, nodded before you repeated the word for her. “Got it. Thanks, ladybug. Now go, I’ll catch you guys later.”

Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, you hugged Elisa one last time and placed a kiss on the top of her head before you let her go. She bounded to where Robert was standing, gave you one last enthusiastic wave, then you watched as they began to walk off to the direction of their seats. 

Now that you were alone, faced with the corridor that lead down to the pitch, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and then with leaden legs you began to walk.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement; you were absolutely terrified. Not only because this was you first coverage after… after the last one, but also due to the fact that this would be the first time you were going to see Alexia in person since the night you left.

Alexia wouldn’t recognise you–no, she wouldn’t even know you were here–you saw to it. You asked Derek to register you under Jersey’s name because the client was none other than Alexia’s agent, a request that earned you a dirty look from Derek but he indulged you anyway. And as a precaution, you made sure to wear a face mask–an accessory that was met by a knowing, raised brow from Robert and a worried, ‘Are you sick, Mom?’ from Elisa–not to mention that your hair now was different compared to then. 

No. Alexia wouldn’t recognise you; you were, after all, only a face among the many that adored her.

You kept walking, shielding your eyes from the brilliant stadium lights as you stepped foot on the grass.

Fifteen months. What good did that time do you? Just the mere thought of Alexia’s eyes suffused you with such burning ardour that neither a kiss nor touch from another could come close to her–there simply was no competition. You couldn’t even let another touch you the way she did because the act of kissing another’s lips was enough to incite guilt in you. 

But why? How could Alexia still have this much hold over you after all this time? Was it because this was the first time you felt something deeper for someone, something that transcended the physical aspect of a relationship? Or was it the fact that the moment you let yourself be vulnerable, almost offered yourself completely, everything came crashing down? And now, you found yourself hung up on someone who had clearly moved on.

But, a small part of you reasoned, if Alexia had truly moved on, why still try to commission you? Why would she want you around? Maybe she… No. You shook your head firmly. That wasn’t possible.

Pain throbbed in your foot as it collided with the sponsor board that lined the spot you picked, earning you a few concerned glances from the nearby photographers who were already there. You cursed internally, dropping your bag to the ground, as you offered the others a sheepish smile and an apology. The pain brought you back to reality though, a reminder that you needed to get your mind out of the gutter and that you had a job to do. 

You had weeks to prepare yourself for this. Everything would be okay. How hard could this be, really?

An hour passed and the stadium was filled to the brim with Spanish red and Brazilian yellow to witness the first match of each team for this tournament. Each nation’s supporters clapped and roared when the players began to run out to the pitch. And all the mental preparation you’d done for this left you completely. 

The moment she stepped out of that tunnel and the stadium lights shone down on her, it felt like you only learnt how to breathe again. There Alexia stood: the slope of her shoulder familiar, the strength carved in the curves of her back looked stronger, and the lines of her arms just as inviting as they were the first time you met. 

And those eyes, even if there were meters between you the weight in them–that low, burning fire–was all too apparent from where you stood.

Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling beneath your mask. She looked healthy; happy.

As the starting whistle breached through the chants of the crowd and resounded through the arena, you found yourself content–content at being an spectator of Alexia’s life, to watch her shine from afar, that was enough. 

Parc des Princes. Sweden vs. Spain: The Clash of the Titans.

Not even two hours before kickoff and a significant crowd had already gathered by the entrance points of the stadium donning their respective supporter colours. It was no surprise to see such numbers very early on this fine Saturday evening because ever since the results from the dramatic Semi-Finals that saw Sweden and Spain through to the Finals, it was the talk of the town:  the World’s Number One against the World Champions; both formidable in their own rights made them titans indeed. 

And the question of who would emerge victorious would be answered tonight.

You saw firsthand how Spain brazenly blazed through this competition, knocking out their tougher competitions in the form of Germany and Japan in the Quarters and the Semis respectively in a similar fashion. They were a force to be reckoned with driven by their purpose and it made you more than proud to see how far they’d come.

Though it had been difficult you managed to remain undetected throughout the length of this tournament, something that you were truly grateful for. And after tonight, you could as easily slip out of Alexia’s world just as you had seamlessly gone in for the last time. The last thing you wanted to do was to jeopardise Spain’s chance at winning no matter how little an impact your presence would cause if you were discovered by Alexia. 

But the thing was, you couldn’t lie and say you felt nothing as you watched Alexia from afar because you did: all the regret and desire… the longing; they were all there with you. More than once you found yourself wanting to run into her arms, to tell her you missed her, to let her know she saved you, to tell her… But you knew in your heart that that couldn’t be, so you allowed yourself this brief luxury, this silent, intimate appraisal of what and who she’d grown into even if she herself didn’t know it–you captured it all and to you that was more than enough.

As for Elisa she was nothing but ecstatic, a bundle of energy through and through. If you were being honest, you had doubted your decision to bring her with you because you didn’t know how being surrounded with tens of thousands of people would affect her even though she’d told you multiple times she could manage it. But to your relief, Elisa had immersed herself in the sport, blanketed herself in its atmosphere and in fact, she seemed to thrive in it. On the way home after each of Spain’s match you went to, Elisa would recount in vivid clarity all the instances she deemed to be highlights of the match–of course most of them were about Alexia which wasn’t a surprise considering how much she meant to her. 

Elisa was enjoying herself and that, truly, brought you immense joy and comfort. She never asked you for it but you knew how Elisa badly wished to meet her inspiration, her and Robert had tried at the end of each match to stick around to meet her but so far, they had no luck.

No, Elisa never asked for you to do anything about it but that didn’t mean you couldn't try. You couldn’t quite think of how to go about it just yet but seeing as how the match before your eyes was the last, you knew your time to decide was beginning to run out. 

The thing about football was that it was unpredictable, one minute it could be going your way, the next it could be the opponent’s; nothing was set in stone and anything could happen.

It was nearing the forty-minute mark, the scoreline was still down at all nil, when Aitana sent the ball lobbing from the middle, just at the edge of the penalty box, into one of Sweden’s goalposts for Alexia who’d already made her surge forwards. In response, Zećira Mušović dove for the nearest post, just about managing to grab the ball as it landed a few paces in front of Alexia’s feet but the ball went out of play as it slipped from her grip. Alexia was going too fast though and your heart jumped in your chest with worry as Alexia leaped over Mušović’s prone form, barely avoiding a collision with the Swedish goalkeeper, before she ended up slamming against the sponsor board and–

Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs as your back slammed to the ground and the back of your head throbbed with a dull ache that made you groan. And then you felt the warm weight pressed against you, dangerously familiar and way too close for comfort but it was gone before you could open your eyes. When you did you found honey-coloured eyes that you knew all too well as Alexia regarded you with concern.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Alexia asked, her ragged breathing made her accent all the more pronounced, and she took both of your hands in hers to help you to your feet. You tried hard not to think about the warmth of her palms on your skin–in fact, you hardly had any thoughts at all–and your throat was so parched you could only nod at her question. 

Only once you got back on your feet did you notice Alexia had gone stock still. The sudden change in her demeanour worried you at first, especially when she hadn’t let go of your hands yet, and then confusion settled in. That was when you realised her attention was zeroed in on the string around your right wrist… at the bracelet she made you, the one you couldn’t bear yourself to part with.

Your eyes widened and you snatched your hands back, shielding your wrist from view with your other hand but you knew it was already too late. Alexia now looked at you, the concern in her gaze now shone together with… something else, eyes red as unshed tears clung to her lashes. 

“You…” Alexia’s voice low–restrained���as her throat bobbed and her chin quivered. 

The sound of the whistle barely registered in your mind and Alexia looked like she hadn’t heard it too, her eyes remained glued to you as if she’d seen a ghost. Then Aitana was by her side, hand around her arm as Aitana attempted to tug her back into the game but she just wouldn’t budge. Aitana regarded you briefly, the clear confusion in her eyes difficult to miss, before she tried to coax her captain away again.

“Alexia. Go.” You said as you gently pushed Alexia away with a hand on her stomach. She flinched from your touch–and her reaction really shouldn’t hurt this much but it did anyway–so you quickly retracted your hand away. Only after that did Alexia finally let herself be pulled away by Aitana but not without staring at you as she went.

This was bad. Out of all the times that this could happen, why now?

You picked up your camera, the fact that it was intact offered you little comfort, and the urge to run away pervaded you. You so desperately wanted to pack everything and leave, allow Elisa to enjoy the match and maybe just sit this one out in the crowd with her. Alexia didn’t need to know. 

The thought was tempting.

But with clenched fists, you stayed. 

A moment later, the Swedish supporters roared when Spain conceded a goal during extra time which left them now down to one goal. Spain still had enough time to try and equalise, and their chance was given in the form of a penalty.

Alexia stepped up but Mušović denied her a goal and your heart ached from the way Alexia shook her head, dejected as she looked up at the sky. 

The halftime whistle blew and you watched as the players walked towards the tunnel entrance but, your eyes widened when you saw her, Alexia was making her way towards you, stride long and with purpose. Her face was neutral but the way her lips was pressed in a thin line revealed that she was anything but calm.

Oh, fuck. 

You didn’t even have time to compose yourself–or do anything, really–because before you knew it, Alexia had leaped over the sponsor board, gripped the monopod with your camera and ripped it away from your hand. A protest left your lips but it was quickly cut off when you felt her other arm around your waist, pulling you to her with a strength that left you breathless. And when you felt her front pressed firmly against your own and her warmth immediately seeped into your bones, everything melted away–the flutter of camera shutters, the roar of the crowd–your world became Alexia entirely. 

Everything just fell rightly into place. It felt like coming home.

Alexia didn’t say anything, just craned her neck so she could rest her head against your shoulder. At first you were frozen, your arms still and left hanging by your side, but as you felt the way Alexia’s ribs expand and the way her heartbeat jumped through her jersey, you came back to yourself and finally, you slid your arms around her, your hands immediately finding purchase in the small of her back. 

You gripped her jersey as you sank into her embrace, pressing your cheek against her collarbone, and god, what did you do right in this lifetime–or the last–to have her back in your arms like this? You breathed her in and you nearly sobbed at the intimate familiarity of her scent.

“Alexia, I–” You began but you shook your head. So instead, you choked out, “Alexia, you shouldn’t be here.”

Silence was the only answer and Alexia seemed to cling all the more tightly to you after the words left your mouth. And you could feel it, the despondency in the slope of her back as if they already had lost the match. Guilt ate away at you. You did this, didn’t you?

“Listen to me, Ale. Your team is waiting for you. They need their Captain, Alexia. They need you.”

At those words, Alexia only buried herself further into you as if she wanted herself to disappear completely. Then she spoke in a voice so small you could barely recognise it was her talking.

“I messed up. I… I can’t be what they need me to be right now. I feel weak.”

You recognised this, the familiar shadow of doubt that tinged Alexia’s thoughts and marred her confidence. Although rare to rear its head, its venom was lethal when it did, attacking her weakest parts, right where it hurt the most. 

Cradling the nape of her neck with a gentle hand, you let her fall all the more closer to you and you whispered softly, but firm in the way you enunciate the words, to get your message through to her. 

“‘The match is not won until the last second is lost.’ Alexia, isn’t that what you told me? You can't just give up now. You can't lose faith in your teammates right now." Alexia’s breath hitched at your words, her arm around your waist tightened. You continued, “your strength is their strength, and theirs are yours. I used to tell you, remember? You're so strong but it's not all yours to carry, Alexia. You're only human but that doesn't make you weak. Have faith in them... have faith in you."

You turned your head just so so you could rest your temple against the line of her jaw before you said, “now go, Alexia. Your team needs you.”

Alexia leaned in to your touch and sighed. She nodded and finally she loosened her grip but before she fully extricated herself from you, she said in a raw voice but not with malice, “I’m still mad at you.”

You couldn’t help it, the small laugh that bubbled out of your throat as you rested your forehead against her shoulder. 

“Fair enough. You can be mad at me all you want later but right now, you have a match to win.”

She pulled away and you finally saw her eyes. Albeit red and raw around the edges, the hazel in them shone with a familiar brilliance, a hungry fire undiminished by the tears in her eyes. You longed to dry her tears but Alexia did it herself, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. She handed you back your camera, hand lingering on your right wrist as she brushed the pad of her thumb over the string there, gave you one last look and a nod, before she jumped over the sponsor board and sprinted to the tunnel entrance, the crowd roaring as she went past them. 

At her departure, the rest of the world came back to focus: the stadium, the screaming fans, the blare of the halftime music… the cameras pointed at you, from the broadcasting channels to the phones of the fans on the stands; you were the subject of all their eyes, all their lenses. Even when you glanced at your fellow photographers, most of them had their cameras pointed at you, some looked at you with passing curiosity while some stared at you as if you’d grown an extra pair of head.

Your ears and cheeks warmed at the attention, gut coiling uncomfortably as you adjusted your face mask, something that you were all the more grateful for especially after that little public display from Alexia. You kept your head down as you walked the length of the sideline towards Sweden’s goal for the next half, and you tried your hardest to ignore the weight of the stares by pretending to tend to your equipment. 

Then you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out and found a message from Robert.

‘That was… pretty public. Are you feeling alright?’

You looked up, tried to pick out Elisa and Robert from the crowd but when you couldn’t, you typed out your reply.

‘I’m fine, thank you. How are the both of you?’

‘Well, Elisa’s just about as ecstatic as any child who found out that their mom knows their favourite football player. She’s been asking questions non-stop, I don’t even know how to answer them all. Please help.’

Despite your situation, you chuckled at the image of Elisa pestering her uncle. 

‘Tell her she can save her questions for me later. Don’t say anything else.’

‘Okay, thank you. And hang in there.’

The loud cheers from the crowd drew your attention away from your phone and upon looking up, found that the players had begun entering the pitch. Automatically, your viewfinder was to your eye, framing the players as they went and taking a shot. 

Alexia was last to step foot on the field and you didn’t miss the way she looked over the last spot she saw you and when she couldn’t find you there, her head swivelled around as she jogged to her position in the opposite half. She found you eventually and even with fifty meters between you, the intensity of her stare reached you. It made you shiver–hopeful in spite of yourself–but when the whistle cut through the air once more, you readied your camera, breath held for what was yet to come.

The game went on and you were so focused on trying to do your job that you couldn’t keep up with the details but the fact was this: no matter how hard Spain pressed forward, Sweden’s defensive effort increased twofold, and whenever Spain played deep to keep Sweden in check, Sweden prodded forward, constantly chipping away at Spain’s defensive line with each effort. 

After Sweden’s attempt at Spain’s goal came an opportunity. One minute Cata had the ball in hand, the next the ball was by Alexia’s feet who took one touch before she passed it between two defenders to Salma who was waiting past the halfway line, who then dribbled the ball into Sweden’s penalty area, then she cut it back and crossed it to Aitana who angled her run just enough to tap the ball in.

One-one.

The crowd roared to life and Spain’s fire was reinvigorated. They had eleven minutes left of normal play to score another goal and win. Both teams clashed, gave their all throughout the remaining time, then through to additional and extra time.

Now the moment of truth: a penalty shootout at Sweden’s goal.

Your palms began to sweat, nervous for Alexia. When was she taking her penalty?

Spain went first. They got it in. Sweden as well. One-one.

Then it was two–two.

Spain got their third. Sweden took their shot but Cata deflected it.

Mušović stepped up this time and blocked Spain’s fourth. Cata, again, anticipated right and denied Sweden their own.

You drew in a staggered breath as Alexia began to walk. Once she got to the ball, she flicked it up with her foot and caught it easily with her hands. Click. Through the lens, you watched as Alexia turned the ball over then placed it right by the penalty spot. Click. Then she began fixing her socks, adjusting her shoes, brushed her left ankle with her thumb–click– and she leant back up, resting her hands by her waist as she waited for the whistle. You zoomed in on her face: she was stoic, calm as she eyed the goal, beads of sweat lined her forehead and the bridge of her nose–click.

The whistle blew.

Alexia took five steps back, one step to her right. She took two short strides forward and on the third, her left foot connected with the ball. The net moved with an audible swish from the power behind her kick, depositing the ball in the bottom right corner of the goal and the crowd roared–or was it you who was screaming?–as the rest of Spain’s team ran to their captain to hug her.

Spain won.

Photo after photo, you captured Spain as they celebrated, their cheers and victorious cries. And when each member of Spain’s team walked the stage to receive their golden medals, the feeling that surged through you was something else entirely. 

The celebration went on but as the crowd thinned and the live broadcast ended, anxiety filled you once again. You tried to keep track of where Alexia was but she’d been surrounded by so many people that you lost her in the celebration. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you packed up your things but kept your camera out as you hung about at the edge of the pitch near the stands.

And then you heard it.

“Mom!”

You turned to the sound and found Elisa who was leaning against the safety rail of the stands just off to the side of the tunnel entrance, an enthusiastic arm waving in the air as she grinned at you. Beside her was Robert who, too, was leaning on the railing with his elbows who gave you a small wave as you jogged over to them, pushing your face mask down on the way.

“Elisa, ladybug, careful you might fall!” You reprimanded but a smile made its way on your lips all the same and either way, your words fell on deaf ears as Elisa excitedly bounded up and down.

“Mom! Did you see that?! That was so intense! And did you see how Alexia just went,” Elisa imitated Alexia’s strike and an affectionate laugh bubbled out your throat at her display, “and it was the best!”

Then Elisa stilled, eyes widening as she looked past you. “Oh my god, Mom, it’s–”

“‘Mom?’”

It was Alexia but her voice was almost unrecognisable because of how flat it sounded. You whipped your head back and surely, the expression Alexia wore accentuated the barely hidden animosity but it wasn’t directed at you nor Elisa. Rather, you found her glaring up at Robert and at his hand resting on the railing where the gold band on his finger was visible–glinting.

You looked at Alexia, whose demeanour was souring by the second, then at Robert who looked paler than you’d ever seen him before, then to Alexia again.

Oh, no. 

[breadnauppercrust]

some designs i came up with for the girls in miraculous. the idea was 'what if they could have multiple outfits like sailor moon, as told by ginger, or totally spies?' and 'what if their clothes reflected their story arc?' however, i kind of gave up on them because i no longer have time to work on it as much as i would like to, so below this are copy+paste from my wip instagram account. lowkey its fanfiction-y lol

Alya:

Alya redesigns! tbh don’t know if they’re cohesive but 🤷‍♀️

S1: dresses for comfort & is geeky - think DrWho/Marvel/Tumblr. Obsessed w superheroes & has dedicated blog for each one, & that includes LB. Beginning of her & Maris friendship, starts to dates nino halfway s1.

S2: Mari influences her way of dress, still geeky but experimenting w clothes. Ladyblog becomes popular, interested in finding out her secret ID. Is also investigating akumas, HM, The Who/what/where/whys. Lowkey figures out who ladybug is but doesn’t say anything. Has been given fox miraculous at least a couple times.

S3: notices changes in Maris behavior & confronts her. Becomes fox miraculous holder full time, helps LB figure out who HM is & shares all the info she’s found. CN lowkey pushed to the side, causing friction, bc wrapped up w finding out who HM is ig. Constantly wears a Fanny pack now for trixx. Goes w comfortable but stylish clothes (ig lol idk) also at this point is BFF w Mari

Chloe:

S1: wears preppy designer brands to impress mom, despite living in diff countries. Basic mean girl, her only friends being Sabrina and Adrien - whose a childhood friend & lowkey helped him attend school. Both know how it feels to “lose” a parent & Adrien has seen a softer side of her. Probably has a crush on him ig. Maris bully, jealous of her talents at sewing & making friends easily, & prob her knit tight family.

S2: still preppy but w 60/70s inspo. Given bee miraculous a couple times, has resisted akumas - info she uses to help others later. Helping ppl & being somewhat nice makes her feel good & likes the appreciation from others+LB. Maybe Mom moves back to Paris w half sister, Zoe - might be significantly younger than Chloe idk. Didn’t like her at first but warms up to her as season goes on. Sees lil sister copying her & their mom, has an epiphany ig. Connects dots on akumas & feelings & tries to be better.

Should Zoe exist tho??? idk

S3: preppy but more casual. She’s nicer but still sarcastic, has made a few new friends, treating Sabrina better. Still trying to get moms approval tho & follows her around, even to fashion things w the Agreste. Notices Gabriel is acting strange, more distant towards Adrien, doesn’t notice what he’s doing or where he’s going. pt queen bee ig, probably given towards the very end of the season tbh by Adrien/CN after being ignored by LB bc of RR involvement w finding out HM id. AND noticing Chloe change significantly in the past several months (?) does Adrien reveal to her IDK he is still loyal to LB but eH

Mari:

1st Mari is shy, her outfits are safe & she kind of disappears in a crowd. She just became 🐞 & isn’t 💯 with her role yet. She’s designed and made her own clothes but doesn’t wear them outside of the house bc Chloe, oof

2nd she’s now comfortable being 🐞 & that boosts her confidence as Mari, she’s wearing more bold colors & outfits that she may or may not have designed herself 👀

3rd 🐞 is now the guardian of the miraculous box, has bigger responsibilities & problems to deal with. Being 🐞 has creeped into her daily life. Doesn’t have time to design/make clothes so wears w/e, but tries to appear happy.

Kagami:

i like the idea of kagami being prim and proper looking all preppy at the beginning, but after making friends she starts to rebel by modifying her school clothes w accessories but eventually wears w/e she wants w a punkish vibe. lowkey worried about falling into a trope so idk

[sillygoofylittleartist]

The main things I didn’t like with the original design was the weird placement of the yo-yo, the many different spot sizes, and the color palette.

Scarabella redesign.

The bright red was not good against alyas skin tone so I made the red a more cool more muted red.

I gave the suit more segmented parts to be more insect like and I removed the weird little shorts.

Her hair gave me the most problems since I could not figure out what I wanted to do with it. I didn’t want the scarf because the spots so close to the spots of the mask was too busy and they were also different sizes from the spots on the mask and the spots on the suit. I tried making it black but didn’t like it so I just got rid of it and gave her two low buns.

Something I felt was missing from scarabella design was blue. Ladybug had blue eyes and blue hair that is in a shape resembling wings. I wanted to give scarabella some wing details so I have her some wings on her feet and some hair accessories that look like a ladybug in flight.

[princess-of-the-corner]

https://www.tumblr.com/marionettedupaincheng/771133266360172544/i-feel-like-they-amped-up-chloes-awfulness-as-the?source=share

Yeah no 100% you can see the progression when they gave up on her.

Because Season 1-3!Chloé had that genuine depth and like. Competence. She cared about Adrien and Sabrina. She looked up to Ladybug for a reason and was devestated by the rejection. She was smart and competent both when it came to plans to be a bully and when she later became a Hero!

Then in Season 4 they made her so stupid she can't get anything done without someone else's help. Even basic bullying needs someone else holding her hand through it. And she treats Sabrina like absolute trash and doesn't care when the girl turns against her, while treating Adrien like an accessory, and gives no fucks about anyone disliking her.

[flightfoot]

I have scattered thoughts about Nino, Alya, and the intersection of racism/misogyny.For example, Alya may receive more criticism not only for racism but also for misogyny. We support women's mistakes! Except not and especially not if it's a black woman.

(And I can't help but notice how many of those criticisms are aimed at Alya not fitting the Good Black Friend™ trope )

But now, with what you said about how Nino's criticism in that episode isn't that harsh, I'm VERY curious about the amount of Adrino vs alyanette fics taking into account the main focus.By that I mean that both couples, if they appear in the same fic, are treated equally and not that it is one of the cases of "we went back to lesbian women because I want to see two men kissing." (This is a VERY common problem in several fandoms where the misogyny that many m/m fics usually imply and the erasure and reduction of F/f couples have been pointed out)

Oh yeah, most of the heavy criticism and outright demonization of Alya comes down to her supposedly being a "bad friend" to Marinette... because she dares to "ask why Marinette doesn't like someone" and "asks for evidence that the person is really as bad as her friend thinks" instead of immediately believing that her friend is 100% correct in her assessment on nothing but her word and committing herself to doing whatever her friend wants in order to take down the other person.

There's this expectation that "being a good friend" when it comes to Alya means that she has to give up all notion of personal judgement or perspective. Heck, looking at the uproar over Rocketear when Alya told Nino that she's still helping Ladybug, or even earlier with Optigami when she decided to get the Turtle Miraculous for Nino because she thought it might be useful, she gets hefty criticism anytime she does anything without Marinette's express approval, no matter what her personal issues or perspective.

Actually the babysitting issue is probably the most clear-cut illustration of this. Alya volunteers to babysit Manon multiple times so that her friend can spend time with her crush, with Marinette even tricking Alya into babysitting Manon for her once so she could do an interview? Barely a peep of criticism against Marinette. Marinette babysits Chris ONE TIME so Alya and Nino can go on a date? Alya pressuring Marinette to babysit for her without pay and behind her parents' back becomes a common recurring trope.

(Note: I'm aware that Marinette's slated to babysit two more times for Alya during the series, in Timetagger and Simple Man. But in the first instance she cancels because she's busy, and in the second one she dumps the kids on her grandpa so she can help with Adrien's photoshoot, so I'm not counting them).

If Marinette needs someone to cover for her babysitting duty, then Alya's merely doing the duty of a good friend by taking on the responsibility for her. While if Marinette ever covers for Alya, she's being taken advantage of by a toxic friend.

Considering that the main criticisms of the "Black Best Friend" trope boil down to how it makes the black character an accessory to the white (well, in this case Marinette's only half-white) character, whose main purpose is to serve and support the other character, without having any internal world of their own? Yeah, I'd say that Alya's major demonization almost always comes down to her violating that role, even slightly.

Oh yeah, Adrino vs. Alyanette fics. Weirdly enough, there appear to be more fics tagged with Alyanette than Adrino (note: I'm gonna keep on all my usual filters for this search, I ain't seeing saltfics if I can help it). I've got 360 Adrino fics, but 560 Alyanette fics.

Now, in my personal experience, very few fics have equal focus for both pairings when they're together. They normally favor one or the other, with one being the main focus, and the other being more of a "pair the spares" situation. I'm also gonna skip the ones where it's one happy poly pile.

So here's the tag I ended up with, when I factored in all my usual exclusions and also included Adrino and Alyanette and excluded Alya/Nino/Marinette/Adrien and Lovesquare.

Of these 33 fics, 11 appear to be Adrino-centric, 6 appear to be Alyanette centric, and the rest I dunno. So I'd say Adrino gets a little more attention, especially since its fics tend to be a lot longer than the Alyanette ones.

Honestly though, I will TAKE Alyanette being "pair the spares" for Adrino a lot of the time, it's a heck of a lot better to make Alyanette and Adrino Ship Mates than to inflict Die For Our Ship on one of the pairs.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Astruc once tweeted that Adrien is Ken for Marinette's Barbie.

Idk about the Barbie movie so I'm not gonna say anything since I've never watch it but I think that analogy pretty fit for the dolls. because for many of the young girls who play Barbie doll (my young self especially) Ken is just an accessory, he was never a necessary. I have many Barbies back then and zero Ken, I never even think about buying him. My Barbies are just fine the way they are.

Perhaps that was why when he tweeted that I feel a bit sad. Because Adrien wasn't just an eye candy, an accessory for Marinette the way Ken was for my Barbie, he was a character of his own who has a personality and goal... Until the writers said he's not.

"Miraculous : Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir" is a big click bait when the show itself barely do anything with Cat Noir despite the lore is basically all about his family, even more so from season four onward. Marinette? She didn't seems to be bothered by the whole Superhero thing if Transmission showed her that she'd rather left her post as Ladybug and chase her love life than actually stay and collect back the Miraculous like she's supposed to do because she's the Guardian.

At this point the show should either just be called "Miraculous Ladybug" or "Miraculous : Tales of Ladybug and Rena Rouge" because Alya has been promoted from minor support character to deuteragonist since the show's slogan seems to support it what with "The power of love is so strong" and we've seen the power of Alya's love is the final.

I've heard about that tweet. It was not a good look and it came out before the movie, so I don't think it had anything to do with that. If anything, it was a reflection of the marketing for the Barbie movie which had a bunch of character pictures with lines like, "This Barbie is president!" and "This Barbie is a doctor!" While Ken got, "He's just Ken." Which is actually not what the message of the movie was. It was about Ken and Barbie learning to be valid people in their own rights, which is arguably a lesson the love square needs to learn after the disaster of season five.

As a fan of Barbie, Life in the Dream House, I'd be lying if I said that I can't stomach a show that really leans into "Ken's job is to be Barbie's boyfriend," because that is literally the "lesson" of an episode in that show. But even Life in the Dream House understood that Ken needed a personality and talents beyond arm candy if they wanted him to be a main character, which he is. And Barbie clearly respects him, too, which makes the bit work. If she treated him with disdain, then the show would be unwatchable.

Basically, your frustration/anger is valid as I really have no idea what the writing team is trying to do with Adrien. They did not set him up for the kind of role he has in season five. His season five role would make sense if Adrien was just the pretty boy damsel-in-distress that Marinette had been crushing on for five seasons, but he's not. He's a main character with power and agency. It's honestly impressive how much they failed his character because male love interests are rarely treated this poorly in "true" magical girl shows (aka, stuff where the main characters are the girls and the boys have minor supporting roles).

[scentednuttragedy]

A GIFT

Re2!Leon S. Kennedy X Fem!Reader

He was in Pain, all he wanted to see was you. He whimpered and moaned out in pain as he clutched his stomach, questioning if he will even be able to see you. He walked stumbling, walking slowly as the pain was so unbearable but he was determined to find you. He was going to find you and make sure you were safe, he wanted to make sure you were safe. You and him has mutually decided to go separate ways to cover more ground but little did he knew was the monster that awaited in his path. He somehow had managed to get away from the monster but boy had the monster managed to hurt him. Now, all he wanted to do was make sure you were safe. Leaning against a wall Leon let out a shaky sigh, traying to regain his composure.

"Leon!" He heard your voice as it approached closer and closer.

"In here!" He grunted as shouting was putting pressure on his stomach.

You rushed inside the room, breathing heavily from running from so long. You saw him, in pain and immediately rushed to his side.

"Leon.. Are you okay? What happened?" You panicked as you kept looking from his face and down at where he clutched his side of stomach.

"Just a little hurt... are you okay?" It was clear he worried more about others than he did about himself. In the few hours you had known him, you had grown to adore him.

"You're clearly not just a little hurt Leon. Sit down" you smiled softly as you sat him down and crouched near him.

"Is there anything i can do to help?" She put her hand on his shoulder as she looked in his eyes with concern. His heart may have skipped a beat or two but he ignored it.

"I'll be fine, just give me a few minutes" He said trying to sound as stable as he could. She nodded and sat beside him, keeping appropriate distance between them.

"Did you see that thing too?" They both said in unison and upon realizing they chuckled a bit. It was moments like these that kept you both sane in this chaos. Leon sighed as he threw his head back, closing his eyes for a bit to relax himself.

Both of you stayed quite for a while just relaxing in each others presence, it was a comfortable silence. You looked over at Leon as you checked his wounds and frowning as you see how hurt he had gotten. Ever since meeting him all he has done is get himself hurt and you felt bad for letting him get hurt. You hated to see him like this even though you barely knew him you knew he had a heart of gold.

"You're getting yourself hurt quite frequently, Leon" You said softly as you ran your fingers along the bruise he had gotten on his arm. He took a sharp breath when he felt your touch. He didn't want to admit it but he liked being around you, he liked your presence.

"Just my luck" He chuckled, shaking his head. Your eyes softened at his words, you wanted to protect him but you knew you couldn't always be there. You took off the golden ladybug pendant you always wore, which was given to you by your family as a protection charm.

"Here have it" You grabbed his hand and put the pendant in his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows as he saw the pendant in his palm, he had seen the pendant on you and knew it meant a lot to you just from the way you'd hold it when you were thinking or stressed. He could tell it was more than just accessory

"Why are you giving this to me?" He appreciated it but he was curious what it meant.

"To protect you" You smiled at him as you leaned against the wall. You cared about him and he had realized that now. His heart started racing as he thought to himself that maybe its the best to not ignore the feelings that were growing towards you. He smiled genuinely as he looked in your eyes.

"Thank you"

I am trying to write fanfiction! i will get better the more I write^^ thank you everyone who reads!

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Baseball Episode!?

I decided, while I was readying myself for the finale and Chloe's character death, why not write one of the Miraculous ideas buzzing in my head not related to my fic? This one's a baseball episode because I like baseball episodes.

In terms of background plot, the Peacock Miraculous is fixed and Hawkmoth (no, not Shadowmoth, this is my canon,) has whittled down the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir to being in Mme. Bustier's class. He doesn't immediately think Ladybug and Chat Noir are the only two students unakumatized in class because he knows Miraculouses can be swapped around, and Miraculous wielders can change their appearance. As for the episode prior,

Ms. Bustier's class is playing baseball for whatever reason. Gym class or something.

Hawkmoth, knowing Ladybug and Chat Noir are in the group, decides to strike, but instead of the overdone and constantly-failing akuma method (not to mention no one's having that bad of a day,) he decides to get creative.

Hawkmoth shows up at the baseball field the Miracuclass is at, in full baseball gear as well? The exits are blocked off by a mass of mold created by the peacock Miraculous, and Ladybug and Chat Noir have trouble running and transforming due to said mold having eyes everywhere, including, yes, the toilets.

He's also created a full robotic baseball team with the peacock miraculous, with 7 basic robot players, 1 armored catcher, and 1 pitching machine on wheels. The latter wields a bat by having it duct-taped to its "head," btw.

Hawkmoth merely wants to wager a game of baseball. If the home team wins, Hawkmoth will leave the class alone. No more akumas or amoks targeting them. However, if Hawkmoth wins, and he might, he gets to take all their accessories! Necklaces, Bracelets, Jewelry, Earrings, Rings, etc.

After the initial cries of shock, confusion, and "Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!", the class decides on what to do. Some members see this as a low-cost high-gain game, not to mention they were already playing baseball in the first place.

Marinette and Adrien, being Ladybug and Chat Noir respectively in the first place, realize Hawkmoth's plan and are not for playing, although they have problems explaining why for reasons that don't expose themselves. Same with the classmates that have figured out their identities (Ivan, Nathaniel, Juleka, and Max,) although they fare a bit better in the reasoning department. Also Chloe is on team no for obvious reasons. As is Sabrina.

Lila's with team 'no' at first for the same reasons as Chloe, but changes sides when she figures out Hawkmoth's scheme and comes to the same conclusions as him.

Ultimately, not willing to risk what would happen if they said no, the Miracuclass takes up Hawkmoth's offer. Also they have uniforms now. From the power of baseball or something.

Since a baseball team only needs nine players and Ms. Bustier's class has fifteen people (six too many,) Chloe, Sabrina, Rose, Mylene, Lila, and Marinette form a cheer squad instead with uniforms as well. Very modest uniforms. Like at the lightest no sleeves and yes modesty shorts.

In terms of positions (because I care deeply about this,) Alix is the pitcher (a great one at that!), Ivan is the catcher, Nino looks over first base, Max looks over second base (he can catch and throw well by calculating the trajectories), Adrien looks over third base, Alya, the girlboss that she is, handles Shortstop, while Kim, Juleka, and Nathaniel are all outfielders. While Kim's highly athletic and a runner and Juleka is frequently at the right spot to catch the ball in midair, Nathaniel is an art kid that wants nothing to do with this and would rather doodle comics.

As for batting, it's as you'd expect. The students that are muscular, sporty, or have spent time as superheroes (mainly Alya and Nino for the latter,) bat better. Ivan's a bit on the slow side and Juleka's a deceptively fast runner, however. It helps that her girlfriend's cheering her on.

Finally, the cheer squad. Chloe, being a talented gymnast and Mean Girl, kills it as a cheerleader, with Rose and Sabrina not being too far behind. Mylene's doing her best, Marinette keeps on tripping over her own feet, and Lila's doing the bare minimum and using faked health conditions as excuses. She also tries to take the other cheerleaders' earrings and rings in case they're Ladybug or Chat Noir, and makes more fake excuses when noticed. At one point Chloe and Lila start fighting. Sabrina tries to break it up.

Hawkmoth's really getting into the sport, by the way. Yelling, telling the enemy team what to do when they mess up, getting mad when his robot baseball players try to cheat, etc. Mostly because some of Gabriel's best times with Emile were at baseball games. He even proposed to her after a game!

Adrien, sweating a bit: "Why does Hawkmoth keep on looking at me? Has he figured out my identity?"

Hawkmoth, looking at Adrien: "My son isn't doing as well as I'd hoped. A pity. Is he not interested?"

Also the bleachers are filled up with some audience members, let in by the Mold. Not a full crowd by any means, but there's people! It helps Nadja is broadcasting the game as well. Marinette's parents are there. The Gorilla is whistling in support of Adrien and has a foam finger. Nathalie isn't there, though. She was never into the sport.

Of course, a bunch of middle schoolers don't fare too well against a team of lifeforms designed to be good at baseball. Alya, using her own form of Ladybug vision (or whatever it's called,) on the cheer squad, determines that Marinette should join the team in place of someone else. Nathaniel seems like the best choice due to being the worst player.

Nathaniel: "NO! I am not becoming a cheerleader! Can't I just sit on the bench or something?"

Alya: "We need six cheerleaders. We can't have a full pyramid with only five!"

Murmur of agreement from the others

Nathaniel: "...Well can't you get someone else to be a cheerleader instead? Why can't it be someone like Jule-Gets hit by a thrown baseball mitt and shoe-OW! Hey!"

Adrien: "Everyone, calm down. I'll be the cheerleader. I've never liked competitive team sports like baseball anyways. I'd rather be my own rival."

Adrien walks over to Marinette and hands her his hat and baseball mitt

Adrien: "Win the game for everyone here, okay?"

Marinette: (Internally) Adrien's counting on me. I can't let him down again! I'll win this game not just to keep my Miraculous, but so I can rebuild Adrien's trust in me!

For the record, I decided in my canon this episode takes a while after Marinette and Adrien got together before having a horribly messy break-up three episodes later, and in general this is meant to be platonic, but if you make art of this and change that dialogue a little for the sake of Adrienette, I won't be cranky.

But yeah. The entire cheer squad welcomes Adrien in with open arms because they're nice girls, Lila, Chloe, and Chloe's girlfriend. Also maybe I'd have Adrien in a skirt but I'll need consultation on that.

As for Marinette, her passion and muscle give the team the nudge and morale to outplay Hawkmoth's team and ultimately win. Taking the pitcher position from Alix, she throws fast, unpredictable balls to strike out the basebots, and she manages to outbat the pitching machine and hit a home run at the ninth inning while three of her teammates are on each of the bases.

Hawkmoth is a man of his word, thankfully. A pretty good sport, too. Very impressed. He dispels his baseball team, skedaddles away, and finally dispels the Mold so Ladybug and Chat Noir can't immediately chase him.

At the ending part, in the Agreste Manor, Gabriel goes over to his son and said he heard all about his game, including what he said about competitive team sports.

"Did you mean all that?"

"Yes, father."

"Would you rather be a cheerleader than be in the basketball team?"

"Yes!"

And so Gabriel puts Adrien in the cheer squad instead of playing basketball and the two of them play a game of catch because Gabriel realized he's never done that with his son.

With baseball mitts and a baseball.