#Randomly generated cat practice

[eunhyuung]

𖦹. “𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇, 𝐘’𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖?” — (𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐑)

𖦹. — 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. honestly, he’s never intended for things to turn out this way because as they say—curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it? too bad, he likes what he’s seeing too much, huh? 6.2k words.

𖦹. — 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . . . bitch boy kylar’s pervasive ways of being an absolute freak, jerking off, scent kink as in the loser disgustingly sniffs at his own pre-cum stained underwear, voyeurism through a screen, unsuspecting camboy! reader (amab) using his favourite fan’s flesh-light, massive parasocial relationship, kylar purely getting off to the mere fantasy of you so lovingly fucking his mouth full and slobbering all over your cock. wow. shit, that’s gross.

𖦹. — 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬, 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠? “I think he’s cute, but he’s fucking pathetic. adds to the charm though.”

Undoubtedly, he’s intricately aware of the baseless rumours currently circulating throughout the school due to him. Not that he pays it much mind, as a loner himself—there’s not much that comes forth from uselessly dwelling on ushered statements whispered amongst each nosy student attending the worn establishment.

Especially when he’s grown accustomed to the unfair treatment sent his way, preferring to concentrate on the positive aspects of his measly day-to-day life instead, no matter how minor those details may be. Practically nonexistent in comparison to the absolutely negatives—if anything, but. . . unwavering optimism is a virtue, correct? More or less.

“Did you see him? You’d think he won the goddamn lottery or somethin’—“ One would randomly perk up out of the blue as the other’s words seamlessly tumbled forth from between their lips. “Stop shitting with me. Think that freak has anything to smile about?” And as predictably expected on their part, doubtful silence filled the daunting atmosphere before the overly harsh cackling of laughter soon followed after.

“No way!!”

Right. Hurtful as it may be, wasn’t any less further from the truth to confidently proclaim that Kylar’s life was utter shit from start to finish. From an accumulation of numerous events that notably stemmed from mere bad luck or perhaps, as he so effortlessly believed so himself—a dreadful curse one had so cruelly placed upon him and the rest of his beloved family for. . . God knows what, how would he know anyway? Maybe it was due to an unforgivable sin he’s unknowingly committed in his distant past life or, from sheer, utter hatred on a stranger’s bitter end.

Solemnly beginning with the inexplicable loss of a treasured, cherished childhood friend of, he’d rather not utter the name itself—only to bitterly finish with the concerning changes in his parents questionable behaviour, not to mention the physical morphs in their formerly human appearances. That is, if they’ve managed to retain any semblance of consciousness from their lives previously shared as a family.

And to be honest, it’s a miracle he hasn’t suddenly dropped dead from the sheer amount of stress the outside world brings him. Hurt after hurt, mindless insult after another ruthlessly hurled towards his retreating figure in the school’s stuffy courtyard by snickering classmates.

At times like these, wordlessly thinking back to the gleaming knife occupying the depths of his baggy pocket does somewhat soothe the dull pain aching within his chest.

Somewhat.

Regardless, seething with misery and tainted despair is what he should’ve rightfully remained so, for the entirety of his pathetic life. Least, that was the intended plan on his end. Fortunately, most things don’t ever go as planned in life, do they? And neither was the accidental discovery of your surprising existence, too. One which he repeatedly thanks the divined heavens from above for so generously gracing him with your perfect being—even if not physically there, as you’re merely hidden away behind the greasy, smudged surface of his unprotected, cum-stained screen.

Yeah, he does periodically forget to neatly wipe those unceremonious accidents of his away. . . Mostly the embarrassing bit where the freak is unpredictably shooting forth his fat load all over his tousled bedsheets and of course, his dimly lit, previously discarded phone screen that merely happens to be consequently lying nearby—at the edge of the loner’s unmade bed. Somehow neglecting to absently clean his disorganized room, rotting for none to see due to his inborn laziness or better put, sheer lack of motivation to truly do something about the grimy mess irritably found at his feet.

Crummy wrappers from whatever unhealthy, overly sweetened snack he’s ingested for the day, used socks filled with. . . well, you’d know the typical stereotype of what lonely, unloved boys do in the desolate tranquility of their bedrooms anyway, unwashed clothes laid askew; you name it.

Although, it’s partially your fault for purposefully making your streams so very tempting—practically impossible to stubbornly last till the bitter end if he’s so much as given the slightest glimpse of your pretty cock, mere sound of your wistful sighs and voice carefully articulating his username amongst the hoard of just as eager viewers.

What a shame, he’d just about care more for the dire state of his dirtied room if it meant somehow impressing you in the process. Like the loser would ever be so graciously given the exquisite chance to timidly invite you to his sore excuse of a room, lest he found you for real and, y’know—committed a few illegal acts or two to drag you towards that desired place of his choice. Selfishly kept you to himself for an undetermined amount of time, preferably forever and ever actually. . . !

Oh, he does dearly promise he’d take good care of you. That’s for sure.

Speaking of, he’s always possessed the annoyingly obsessive tendency to easily fall for a fictional character on the other end of a layered screen, but. . . Certainly not like this, no. Since you’re a real, existing person, are you not? A living, breathing human with his own life he’s blissfully unaware of—foreign details and such, are wholly unnecessary to him, because your self is solely what he’s truthfully interested in, really! Sorely convicted no one could ever hope to pitifully understand the true reason as to why he’s been recently sporting that idiotic grin plastered amongst his usually aloof features.

Distractingly sketching more and more admittedly good, yet messy drawings in the private remnants of his notebook’s torn pages. Immediately squeaking at the sudden presence of his english teacher’s. . . what’s-his-name, mister Doren(?) hovering over his hunched shoulders to questioningly quip up as to what may be so important for him to childishly doodle during learning time, huh?

Well, you see—fairly, it’s quite simple, if not entirely self-explanatory when thoroughly observing his recently odd mannerisms and gestures.

Y’see, most would reasonably laugh dead in his face at the sickeningly sweet answer, though what need is there to hide it? It’s evident what the local school’s favourite punching bag has been shockingly struck with. As cheesy as it may be to discreetly gossip amongst one another, the sole undeniable fact that—

“The freak’s obviously in love and crushing on someone or somethin’, no doubt about it. I mean, look at him! He looks like he’s just about ready to float off the earth!!”

“Fuck, don’t word it that way. That’s so fuckin’ gross. Y’a think he actually likes someone—? Like, here? In this school?? Stands no chance. What’s the use of liking ‘em if they’ll run at the sight of you anyway?” Seldomly wrong on that part, there’s no way to precisely tell that identity of yours if your face is disappointingly out of view in each of your films! Therefore, he’d like to take note of it someday, y’know. . . Instead of, ah—humiliatingly jerking off alone to the hazy thought of your faceless body. Not to say, that isn’t disgustingly hot enough on its own. Fucking pervert that he is, plenty to get him off on.

“Hey, now don’t be so mean. He could hear us over there. . . Didn’t you hear what he did to that one girl in class cuz’ she tried to take his shitty sketchbook? Heard she’s stuck in the hospital for a month because of him. Crazy stuff.”

Unsurprisingly so, a scornful pout would’ve expectantly found itself upon his chapped lips at those stray comments if it were any other day of the week. Frustratingly clutching at the worn edges of his school bag hanging limply from his small figure from the seething urge to impulsively retort back. However, what use is there to miserably wallow when your favourite show is bound to showcase itself on screen soon enough? And what he so innocently refers to as some ‘show’ are those naughty streams of yours he’s been regularly keeping up to date with, without missing a single one for that matter—you should be proud of him, really. Is starting soon, as per usual—in about. . . ?

Oh, luckily he’s got plenty of time to wordlessly settle himself in his spacious bedroom before your precious recordings commence. Methodically checking the numbers displayed on his cellphone to indicate the countdown till the sole thing he’s been excitedly looking forward to for the past few, dwindling months, does eventually begin.

Since today is a special day, indeed—is it not?Thoughtlessly humming to himself at the expectant treat patiently awaiting his arrival at home, much to other passerby’s apparent discontent at the rather. . . horrible sound being sung throughout the pathway to his forgotten, desolate manor. Singing melodic notes, especially at the Temple’s choir never was much of his forte for that matter. That’s alright, though! Fortunately enough, he’s confident he can painfully endure anything that this insane town throws at him today. And ‘course, that stupidly includes the dirty looks shot in his direction, too.

Because today. . . today is a special day, yes—he gleefully repeats so, to himself. Y’know, like some maniac.

And akin to how a mechanical key automatically turns itself within the depths of a narrow lock, routine settles in thickly at the back of his mind as his feet instinctively shuffle themselves through the doorway of his beloved house. Less beloved in the sense that it isn’t exactly properly maintained, as obviously proven by the multitude of stains abandoned about upon every wooden surface, it seems. Uneasy floorboards bound to eventually collapse underneath the meager weight of his lanky body, which is a miracle that it hasn’t already by now, actually.

Not to mention, disgraceful cobwebs precariously hanging from below each cornered ceiling, but there still retains a semblance of charm to the place, a little—he thinks. Personally. Majorly due to the familiarity it instills within his boyish brain and it being his lone sanctuary where he feels remotely at peace, unperturbed from outsiders prying eyes.

“I-I’m home.” Timidly calling out to the single place that’d welcome him so, in a hushed, open embrace. But, as per expected, no pleased response comes forth to counter that shrill, little voice of his—having progressively grown accustomed to announce his eventual arrival to what he still sheepishly refers to as his parents, at least, even if they might not outwardly reply with a normal chime of their own. Perhaps he’ll be met occasionally with a hiss or two, yet he doesn’t really dare to enter any further into their territory without loads of garlic necklaces clumsily hooked along his delicate neck. Coward, he is—even in the face of his own mother and father, although it does possess its perks when it comes to avoiding trouble at school or notably, that filthy blonde’s presence.

That is to say, there’s no point in uselessly ruminating any further about an establishment that bores his bare unhappiness, right? Briefly stealing a glimpse to where his parent’s doorway restlessly lies partially accessible, surely aware of his newfound return—judging by the bored clatter of their glinting, metallic fangs concealed below the extended bed. Oh, they’re waving at him, clearly! Least, he positively thinks so if he hasn’t been ruthlessly attacked yet, so far. Unlike certain intruders skittering ‘round the mansion, that being rats. Ah, merely envisioning the little creatures draws a shuddered breath out of his wrinkling nose, jolting shivers coursing throughout the curved length of his spine.

There are far more important matters presently tending to his current attention, however. You, you, you—your upcoming stream. You, you, you . . . Obviously. Occupying the vast majority of his brain and, as for the last remainder—it being the sheer embarrassment of his progressively growing hard-on straining against the rough material of his ripped jeans. Oh, and now he’s popping boners purely from thinking about you?? Like he hasn’t done so before in class either, bitterly reminiscing over the painful memory of skittering away to the boys bathroom for a quick. . . tending to, as in pervertedly pumping his cock full in the tight confines of an unkempt stall. Shakily whining out your name (more like username, really) between muffled whimpers as sweet release mercilessly found the loner and he, ungracefully so, spilled the entirety of his sticky seed along the rest of his rumpled school uniform.

. . .Yeah, he’s definitely got a vast amount of issues to deal with. But, he can helplessly worry about that unimportant part later.

The continuous pitter patter of his feet carefully made up to the balanced stairwell—where his meticulously made shrine of you remains still, by the way—endlessly carries on. Opposite to how the insistent, rhythmic pumping of his discomposed heart feverishly beats with each huff drawn forth of the outcast’s hitched sighs. Creaking floorboards noisily squeaking beneath each incessant footsteps made towards his own private room before finally. . . finally, soundlessly shutting the oaky door with a resounding click and an exhaled breath of relief.

And so, it begins.

Familiar, shrouded darkness envelops his figure whole all at once within the restrictive bounds of his exclusive chamber. Movements seamlessly acted out on an automatic everyday-thing as he so thoughtlessly—to his mattress’s strained annoyance—flings his worn bag containing practically nothing, save for his sketchbook and a singular, used pencil—upon the squeaking, cushiony surface with an audible thud! Well, he’s always been somewhat irresponsible when it came to his possessions in hand lest they held some semblance of emotional attachment to him in some shape or form. Fortunately, he withholds an acceptable excuse for his hasty behaviour this time, yeah, swears it’s an adequate one! Of course it’d perpetually be when it comes to you, his esteemed beloved, his one and only. (To what he’s thoroughly deluded himself to blindly believe so.)

Ah, how unbridled excitement quells within his chest with each shaky step forward to his unattended, cluttered desk. Smiling gleefully to himself in absent thought at the six, available monitors at his disposal—who’re poorly reflecting the sight of his eager expression at the moment, too. Oh, he doesn’t mean to appear like a frantic puppy in heat right off the bat without having even received his sweetened treat.

Though, can he be possibly faulted for it when he’s hardly a few seconds away from being so lovingly graced with your company on the other side of a limited screen? Helplessly devoted in the woeful sense that simply a single snippet of your soothing voice renders him blissfully breathless, weak in the knees bound to soon buckle beneath your honeyed words? Has him torturously aching downwards to where his dripping wet cock tents against the layered fabric of his pants?? Perfection couldn’t even begin to accurately describe your being devoid of any flaws.

So idiotically hooked that the perverted freak is already slumping himself atop the accommodating, swivelling seat of his chair—instinctually placing his connected headset onto the unkempt strands of hair naturally curling around the indented shape with a pleased hum. Y’know, just to be safe. Potentially due to the considerable awkwardness of if he were to accidentally play a pornographic stream aloud, beyond the confidential walls of his room.

Last thing he’d like to bashfully admit outwardly to his parents is how hopelessly infatuated their son is for another boy who isn’t even remotely aware of his flickering existence. Besides the frantic amounts of fanboy comments the loner usually leaves behind, majority of it containing the sheer euphoria of witnessing such a pretty boy as yourself—so boldly displaying himself for thousands upon thousands, possibly more granted the frustratingly recent spike in your growing popularity, to see. Solely perceived as an overly enthusiastic fan that consequently happens to be attending each and every stream of yours, in a vain attempt to someday, be supposedly noticed by his dearest idol.

Undeniable trepidation restlessly courses through his veins, jittery fingertips grazing amongst the crumb stained keys—which, he never thoughtfully bothers to sanitize, exactly—before ultimately typing in the uh. . . ah, it’s still considerably embarrassing to be navigating through a raunchy, naughty site filled to the brim with erotic content. Not to say, he hasn’t especially skimmed through some. . . exceptionally questionable ones in the distant past, but none seemed to wholly satisfy him nor brought him such disgustingly heated interest like your live recordings either. Hah, he’s just so utterly down bad for you—it’s mildly flustering.

Another which he’ll soon be given the meticulous chance to joyfully witness in the gloomy atmosphere of his bedchamber, if anything else. Arrow pointed key impatiently hovering over the strikingly red button labeled for newcomers to ‘join on in’ to where your stream is bound to usually begin. Yes—he’s memorized your neatly made schedule of commencing your tapes every Thursday afternoon, around thirty minutes after he’s finally released from the sorrowful imprisonment of school. And. . . the gleaming ‘live’ signal should be surfacing any second now. Precisely in five—four, three, two. . . and, one.

Click.

[Now recording.]

“Oh— ahah, god. 200 viewers already? No, it’s climbing up to 254 now. . . You guys are already that happy to see me, huh?? I’m flattered.” Whether to necessarily fixate upon your rosy, moving lips deeply articulating each syllable with a musing grin of your own, albeit a shame that’s about as much as he’ll be able to savour and see of your concealed face positioned above the reserved range of your quality camera. Or, the seamless lull within your effortlessly attractive voice reaching the depths of his attentive ears is beyond the dark haired boy’s enraptured attention, truly—because, hah. . . there’s something else, something else much more special eventually coming up, isn’t there?

Chipped nail upon his thumb being subconsciously chewed at in faux thought, that. . . you look stupidly good today (not that you usually don’t) with that casual wear— yes, even something apparently simple as some loose jeans, not all that much different from his own too, and an onyx black turtleneck compatibly added to the mix—looks pleasantly nice on you, enough so to hurriedly draw all breath from him.

Light conversation ensuing as if you aren’t thoroughly conscious of what the viewers unabashedly desire within this very moment. Him included, to be frank. “What have I planned for today? Well, now—you know, it won’t be any fun if I reveal it immediately, but you’re right, I do have something particularly special planned for today’s stream.” And he can tell, with how the influx of notes rapidly increase at the mere mention of a tell-tale surprise, no doubt brimming with utter curiosity and excitement at the sheer, mind numbing prospect of a carefully thought out present from you, that it indeed works. Sweetened chuckle naturally tumbling forth from your parted lips drawn up in a lighthearted smile in return. “Oh, you wanna know so bad? Fine, fine. Bunch of perverts already pressuring me right into it— haah, but I guess I’m no better for getting off of the attention like this either. . . Alright then, I’ll bite.”

Right, estimating the passing time he’s suggested it beforehand, it should’ve certainly arrived in the mail by now. Peering curiously towards the endlessly flowing stream of enthusiastic comments filling up the area at the bottom right of his dimly lit screen.

“Just so happens I’ve got a new one to test out here. Courtesy of a subscriber’s recommendation, y’know. See how much I actually listen to you guys? You degenerates should be grateful I’m even showing you anything, really— oh, c’mon. It was just a joke. Lighten up, will you?” Musing delightfully in response before promptly presenting a faintly rose coloured—oh, oh! it really is his that you chose!—pussy pocket into view, or generally known as a squishy flesh-light solely made to dutifully suck at awaiting eager cocks. Crimson flush coming forth to deeply stain his cheeks so, gasping momentarily to himself at the shocking outcome and maybe just, the idiotic yearning of intricately wanting to be that toy instead.

Ah— god, what he’d inevitably give to be the one you’re sensually sinking your flushed, oozing tip into, breathlessly groaning at the dizzying tightness swallowing your twitching length whole.

On one hand, he’s tried out quite a few, negligently forgotten in some stash hidden within his creaking closet, although ever since he’s been given a minor glimpse of your fat cock since day one—well, he’s come to long a certain. . . other type of treatment altogether. Notably, the disastrously sickening urge to be fucked full to the brim within an inch of his life, filthy masochist that he deceptively is, nothing could potentially compare to your pretty looking cock truthfully.

“Well, then,” Instinctually following forth with the passages of your hands—those too are pretty, actually. Like every inch of you isn’t, physically drooling at the slightest sliver of your exposed skin being gradually bared to his heated, emerald gaze. The edged curvature of your delicate knuckles down to where your slim fingertips connect to your leathered belt, smoothly unbuckling its constraints with a distinct jingle before it ultimately, drops downwards to the floor with a muted thud. His own loosened pants shortly accompanying your gestures soon after in a clumsy haste.

“Why don’t you sick fucks just sit back—“ A tug of your elastic boxers and he’s being suddenly greeted by the addictively sinful sight of it. Flushed cock weeping glistening beads of pre-cum, immediately springing forth from its confine to then, audibly smack against your bare tummy. “relax, and enjoy the show, yeah?”

Ahah, there it is—there’s your admittedly. . . tasty looking cock he’d waste no effort in slinking down to his knees to suckle upon, coat in slippery wet saliva and gratefully swallow down in nigh worship like a mutt starving for a treat. If you sensibly possessed any sort of idea, how well he’d treat you, the boy of his dreams. Hungrily lap the slicked surface of his warm, moist tongue along your balls heavy with seed in an intimate display of unending devotion—obsession, damnation to be gleefully chained and bound to your feet. Or so, he’s steadily scattering the remnants of his needy mind to those nonsensical blurry daydreams of his again.

Along with that artistic mark the loner meekly recognizes as a tattoo permanently etched into the tender flesh of your left hip, inked encryption slithering upwards, beyond the portion that your jeans can possibly conceal if shown on the spot.

“See this?— haah, fuck.” Hitched breath suddenly interrupted with a muted curse at how you merely hover the toy’s softened hole above the leaking tip of your heavy cock, wordlessly pulsing in the camera’s direction—his direction, to be more precise. Silently affirmed as nothing more but a wistful yearning on his part. “The way it just. . .” Oh, he’d so hopelessly, truly never tire to repeatedly listen upon your angelic voice again and again, how it subtly trembles and delves further into a series of rapidly made huffs along with a mix of heaving groans. Beautifully falls apart, tearfully breaks in an instant from the sweet suckle of the makeshift pussy heat steadily sucking in the veiny girth of your aching length. “. . .Effortlessly sucks me inside? So fuckin’—shit, tight. Like I’m fucking a real cunt actually.”

And yeah. . . Yeah, it really is—god, instinctively yearning for the insatiable need that those were his pouty lips instead, thoroughly enveloped around the sheer thickness of your perfect cock. Depthless, expanding pupils deliberately following the trailing path of pearly droplets profusely dribbling out messy pre-cum. Past the stuffed flesh-light’s warm folds—down the curved edge of your neatly swallowed cock to where it ultimately, descends and lands atop your balls with a startling drop.

Seemingly, the slight twitch in his pants at the dizzying demonstration is explanation enough on its own probably.

Quite pitifully so, it’s natural instinct, it’s all, he promises! Stealing a glance downwards to where his own excited cock stands upright and throbbing in the stretchy material of his chosen underwear for tonight’s occasion—one which he can easily slip off at a moments notice, impatiently strip down to his spread knees like an unashamed whore practically begging for it.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to just. . . rub one out quickly, right? It’s what you’ve so generously taken the effort and time to do so, right?? So the freak—amongst many others delightfully viewing, how annoying—can disgustingly get themselves off to the addled sighs, sickeningly wet smacks! from the teasingly slow roll of your hips upwards, easily tumbling out from his monitors screens.

Timid palm tentatively reaching towards the overly evident, straining hard-on tented underneath the seams of his boxers, earnestly palming himself—or better put, the outlined length bulging through the fairly thin fabric—with a shaky gasp. So embarrassing, how minimal stimulation on his end renders him utterly breathless, silently stunned at the sheer amount of pre endlessly leaking out from his swollen, red hot slit. Inconveniently stains the greying colour in a deeper shade to mindlessly gawk at for future notice. Because currently, he’s unfairly too busy from solely grinding the heel of his softened palm against his cock’s dripping wet head, isn’t he?

Although, it’s not enough. Not enough, just yet—

Certainly, it wouldn’t truly be sinful to shyly go further, bring himself to the very brink of his teetering limit, huh? Fluttering lashes discreetly shutting close maybe due to the dizzyingly hot embarrassment accumulating within his tensed tummy. There, yes there; that’s the spot. . . Ah. Shuddering gasps uncontrollably spilling out of his beautifully open, wanton mouth shaped into a perfect ‘o’ at the clumsy passage of his inexperienced hand downwards, below. Hah—‘inexperienced’ , he sullenly thinks as if the dark haired boy doesn’t steadily fist his cock raw to the mere, increasingly blurring thought of you like a daily routine set into stone, never meant to be carelessly missed.

An unrestrained addict is what he fairly is, for all its worth. Amused grin simultaneously cracking upon his features at the unsurprising realization, insistently tugging at the corner of his now moist lips—disgustingly shiny in his own spit too, now—as scarred fingertips momentarily caress along the curved outline of his twitching cock before impatiently sliding off the sticky undergarment down the length of his perched legs.

Shit, shit. . . Chilly, cooling air mercilessly kissing at the warm, trickling tip of his flushed cock head now openly free from the boxers helplessly limiting bounds. Outwardly hissing at the sudden rush of temperature surrounding the surface of his readily exposed, quivering length. And here he is, already subconsciously humping, desperately bucking at the air—hips spontaneously settling into a rapid pace to fuck into his fist, but oh—your soft skin would be so much warmer to the bare touch, y’know?

Irrefutably better if it were your skillful hands indecently pumping his slippery cock, though you’d only need a single hand to do that, wouldn’t you? Ultimately bigger than his pitifully smaller ones in size, unable to fully wrap around the pulsing thickness of his cock unlike yours who’d effortlessly encompass him whole. Tease at the whorish slit ceaselessly dripping translucent, sloppy pre-cum with a press of your thumb atop the puckered opening all the while fisting himself.

Ah—ah, damn it. “Mmngh. . .”

Invasive, needy hands struggling to grasp for something—anything, will surely do to dull the burning, aching throb of velvety blood rushing south to his taut balls and unsurprisingly so, the pretty flush that comes to visibly stain the surface of his cheeks. Similar to a picture perfect portrait professionally painted by an eccentric artist, that is, if he had any semblance of self-esteem somehow hidden in there.

Predictably so, like some unjust pervert, the experimental tip of his jagged nails curiously grazes against the stretchy texture of his underwear now awkwardly slung down to the freak’s knees. Forgot those were still loosely hanging there, admittedly. Pearly, shiny patch of staining pre boldly glinting back towards his half-lidded gaze as if to elicit an enticing. . . no, the definitely worst idea he’s potentially had.

But, something to just get the ball rolling sometimes, you know? That’s all. Nothing more, nothing any further than his lone tendencies to uselessly clutch at something in a placid need for comfort—for it could be a worn pillow that’s unfortunately out of reach, sweaty used hoodie meant to wholly fill his scrunched nose with the strong lingering musk or even, his pre-cum stained boxers. However else that can be reasonably judged, as no normal person would be feebly bringing their underwear up to their heated face. Deeply inhaling his own stupidly salty scent, crudely burying the tip of his curved nose within fisted briefs restlessly held in the cup of his palm.

Shiiiiitt, it stinks like hell. So, shouldn’t be so devastatingly erotic and spur him on further—shouldn’t have his aching cock incessantly yearning for some form of release, albeit in a fucking pervasive manner.

“So perfect. . . hah, y-you’re so—pretty.” Incessantly drawling forth from his bitten lips, crimson stained flesh absently chewed upon as the searing metallic taste fills his every muddled senses. Like a fallen mantra that’s bound to greedily consume his very being—and frankly, he’d be nothing more than earnestly grateful if he was so selflessly granted the lucky chance to have his useless, good-for-nothing, pliable body thoroughly used and ruined by you. Ah, idly wondering in the discreet back of his mind, how you’d harshly fold his slim figure in half.

Would it be fast and rough, possibly? Indecently cruel in each of your instinctual thrusts, sudden snap of your hips to fuck him within an inch of his life? Or perhaps, no—undeniably the opposite, considering your usual style Kylar familiarly knows all too well. Slow, methodical and torturous marks progressively imprinted along the curved surface of his arched back. Smooth, chilly fingertips gliding downwards till he’s greeted with the slight grip of your locked palms upon his hips. A trembling plea here and there, only to be coldly met with a sneered chuckle at the pitiful sight—heated tip barely grazing against the puffy entrance of his puckered hole as you’d utter out a singular insult.

“You fucking pervert.”

In a mere instant, as it should come as no shocking surprise, surely—that single, fleeting thought precariously tips him towards the edge before the perverted freak’s has remotely registered the immediate slackening of his open jaw. Furrowing of his brows with a petulantly long whine as sickeningly thick, white strings of seed uncontrollably spurt forth from his swollen tip, splattering amongst the previously untainted surface of his keys, bare and unclenched tummy in the cooling air and of course, the monitored screen itself.

“H-hah—I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry. I’m nothing. . . but, a nasty p-pervert. . . ! Please—hngh, forgive me. . . !” Salaciously muttering to himself as though you’d possibly hear his ushered mewls for forgiveness, reassuringly cleanse him of his rushed and impulsive actions. Adoringly nosing along the creeping edge of his torn sleeve, pouty lips lewdly suckling upon its cotton material in an absent habit meant to momentarily soothe himself from the ongoing orgasm wracking throughout the entirety of his quivering, slackening figure—sluggishly resting atop the leathered, rolling chair.

Ah. . . Hah, doesn’t even register the all too heavy weight of his sleepy eyelids inevitably fluttering shut in a dazed slumber, head comfortably leaned back against the cushioned pillow. Carelessly forgetful of the accumulated, dripping mess now irritably found at his feet which he supposes, he’ll reluctantly clean later when he’s somehow received the faithful chance to.

Although, speaking of—isn’t he foolishly forgetting something residing in the shrouded depths of his mind. . . ? That can be, potentially dealt with. . . later, though. Maybe.

Didn’t even bother to aimlessly recall as to what it is regardless.

It wholly slipped from his drowsy mind, anyway.

— . . .

Alright, well—understandably enough, shouldn’t have tediously overslept past the overly distracting ringing of his stubborn alarm, but still. . . ! It’s not like it’s necessarily the loner’s fault for having this annoyingly irreparable tendency to listlessly pass out the second he’s satisfyingly gotten his fill. Probably, should get that checked out, however. Who effortlessly shifts to the realm of sparkling dream land after having hurriedly, finished in one fell swoop?? As in, helplessly shooting forth a fat load and considering it done and over with. Him, apparently.

‘Course, that reasonably draws its fair share of invasive consequences. Utterly lost in the bewilderment of his racing thoughts during his languid sprint towards class in the dead middle of the somewhat. . . spacious hallway, yet—not so much so that he isn’t incidentally slamming against a poor student in a troublesome haste, unintentionally tripping himself over his own loose, untied shoelaces. Oh, can’t be any more blind, can you??

Having fully expected to have painfully hit the dull, heartless ground by now—but, but. . . unfamiliar softness tentatively tugs at his blurry senses instead, confusingly warm firmness of someone else’s secure arms embracing the dark haired boy’s lanky figure in return. “Ugh, fuck—“

“. . .Sorry, are you alright? I didn’t mean to bump into you there. I should look where I’m going next time—stupid of me, really. You’re not hurt or anything, right?” Despite being sorrowfully accustomed to the normally discriminating tone most students expectantly would’ve adopted at the mere sight of him, nothing particularly prepared Kylar for that vaguely recognizable, dulcet voice faintly ringing within his stinging ears as he, so dumbly, peers from below the mopped mess of his unruly tufts of hair. One day, he’s got to take care of that nasty habit of his to be neglecting his unfairly important needs.

Strikingly stiff as a stoned, wobbling statue at the nearest temple from the intimately tender worry currently occupying your gaze—ah, what is he specifically meant to respond with in such an uncouth situation again?? Somehow missing the loosely held grasp your smooth palms have atop his hunched shoulders because, oh, he’s never been willingly touched before either—has he?

“Um, y-yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” My god, haven’t you received nothing but excellent marks in English, idiot?? Further elaborate on that meaninglessly empty statement! Inwardly cringing at the slight squeak unjustly found amidst his slurred speech and albeit, apologetic struggle not to seemingly appear like some ditzy moron right now instead of y’know—excessively nodding along to the point that, you’re questioningly tilting your head to the side.

“That’s good to know. Make sure not to run like that in the hallways again yourself, next time. Could’ve ended worse and I wouldn’t want someone getting hurt on my behalf, would I?” Momentarily stunned by that sugary sweet smile and maybe, the all too good-natured pat naturally placed upon his left shoulder that his heated breath is promptly caught in his bobbing throat.

He meant to reply back, truthfully desired nothing more than to sheepishly inquire further for. . . what? Nothing, perhaps. Anything to have your presence possibly linger longer next to his, but before he’s consciously notices—your retreating silhouette is already swiftly stepping past his dumbfounded, stranded self. Stifled curses accompanied by faintly echoing footsteps thudding against the now desolate, school hallway.

“Goddammit, where’s that blonde bastard—told me to wait for him and he doesn’t even fucking show up. Is he still pissed at me for yesterday’s shit?? I swear I should. . .”

Ah.

And, he didn’t even get to catch your name.

Guess he’ll find out through his own personal means. Stealing a rushed glimpse towards the headmaster’s shut door where they privately keep any student’s confidential files—that is, including properly listed grades too, which he’s gotten no interest for, to begin with.

Name.

Your name.

Well, he’ll find out one way or another because he always possesses a way to, doesn’t he?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery IV

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have bad days

Sometimes, you have a bad day.

Sometimes, everything is so overwhelming that all you can do is sob and cry and kick your little limbs out because your magic wiggles refuse to come out any other way.

You had a bad day today.

You don't know why. All you really know is that the hot sun blaring down on you and the loud noises from the Barca girls practicing had you bursting into tears and screaming your frustration.

Mami and Ingrid brought you home after that but you couldn't calm down.

Tears still drip down your cheeks as you hide your face in Ingrid's neck.

You're lying in bed with your mummies. Mami's very gently running her nails up and down your back and Ingrid's gently scratching at the very base of your scalp.

Bagheera's here too, curled up on the other side of you and Ingrid. She's a little sleepy but she's awake and looking at you and you blindly run your fingers through her fur.

"Mama," You say softly when Ingrid stops giving your scritches.

"Hmm?"

"More, please?" You sniffle and Ingrid's fingers gently continue as you wipe some of your tears away on her shirt.

You're extremely drained today. Everything was simultaneously too much and not enough.

You go completely lax and limp against Ingrid, your fingers still buried in Bagheera's fur.

"Should we take her to see someone?" Mapi asks quietly when she notices that you're fast asleep," These have been happening more frequently than before."

"The club said they were could recommend her to a behavioural therapist. We wouldn't have to be put on a waiting list."

Even though you're asleep, Ingrid doesn't stop gently scratching at your head.

"Would it help? I thought we were doing well."

"We're doing so well," Ingrid says," But there's no harm in getting extra help with her."

You shift in your sleep, somehow burying yourself even more into Ingrid, pulling your knees up to your chest in some crude copy of how Bagheera's sleeping.

Your bad day turns into a few bad days and then, finally a bad week.

Not a day goes by where you don't cry or whine or feel like everything is going wrong at once.

Your days end exactly the same, curled up like a cat on Ingrid's chest as she and Mami whisper soft things to you to help you calm down.

Today though, Mami and Ingrid have a day off and instead of doing things you usually do like sit in front of the washing machine or playing with your trucks, Mami gets you dressed properly.

You usually stay in your pyjamas when you're having a lazy day but Mami getting you dressed means you're going out somewhere.

You don't like that.

Ingrid tells you that you have a routine for a reason. You think she's right. You like your routine. It's fun and it's safe and you know exactly what you're going to do every single day.

This trip is different. Usually, when Mami and Ingrid change your routine, it's planned for weeks in advance and they remind you every day leading up to it.

The fact that they haven't is a little weird but Mami once told you that sometimes things change randomly so you presume it's one of those times.

You hold Ingrid's hand as you all walk to a strange building and Mami talks to the reception person. It's a bit like going to the doctor's or the dentist you think because there's a little waiting room with magazines that you all have to sit in.

You don't relinquish your hold on Ingrid's hand and tug on it. "Mama?" You ask," What're we doin'?"

Ingrid smiles at you. "We're here to talk to someone as a family."

You frown. "About another cat?"

You've not been very successful in getting Ingrid to let you and Mami get another cat but you think you're wearing her down. Mami says you must always persevere and you don't quite get what that means but you have a general idea.

Ingrid laughs. "Sorry, cub, but it's not about getting cat. We're just going to talk a little bit to the nice lady about stuff at home."

"I have to talk too?"

"Not if you don't want to," Mami promises you," You can play if you want."

It doesn't take long for the nice lady Ingrid was talking about to come to collect you all.

Ingrid and Mami sit on a comfy looking sofa opposite the lady's armchair. You glance between them both before Mami rises again to lead you over to one of those toys with the beads and the twisty bit of metal going through them.

She sits cross-legged with you on her lap and gently encourages you to play.

You do.

But you're hyperaware of the fact that the nice lady is watching you even though you know she's not staring. She's writing stuff down on a pad as Ingrid talks and you play with Mami but she keeps looking back at you every so often and that's a little unnerving.

You scratch at your wrists, your little blunt nails doing little to stop the magic wiggles in your body.

Mami stops you and she gives you a pointed look.

"What have I said?" She admonishes gently," We don't scratch ourselves, do we?"

You shake your head. "No."

"And why don't we scratch ourselves?"

"'Cause it's not being kind to our bodies."

"That's right, cub." Mami presses a kiss to your hairline. "And we must always be kind to our bodies."

You nod and accidentally catch the nice lady's eye. She's writing something again and that makes your magic wiggles get a bit worse.

You don't like running around and exercising around people you don't know even though Mami and Ingrid say it's the best way to get out your wiggles so you very slowly make your way over to Ingrid.

Your hand clenches and unclenches before you thrust it out towards her. "Mama," You say," løve, please (lion)."

Ingrid digs around in her bag for a moment before pulling out your lion toy and handing it to you.

You thank her before quickly hurrying off to sit on Mami again.

Usually, you don't have to sit on Mami to play but your magic wiggles have been weird this week and keep making you cry so you want to stick close.

Eventually, the nice lady comes closer and sits opposite you and Mami at the play table as you start moving the yellow trucks around.

You ignore her for the most part as you play, keeping a tight grip on your lion.

"I heard you speak in a different language to your Mama," The nice lady says and you shake your lion under the table to get out some of your magic wiggles.

"Ingrid speaks Norwegian," You say as you make the truck slam into one of the walls you've built.

"Do you speak Norwegian?"

"Little bit." You get back to work rebuilding your wall so you can knock it down again.

"Is she teaching you?"

You nod. "Mami's learning too. I'm better."

"That's nice," The nice lady says," I heard you were having a bad week."

"My magic wiggles wouldn't go away. I cried."

"That must really suck."

You nod. "Mami and Ingrid makes it better. We cuddle with Bagheera."

"And who is Bagheera?"

"Our cat. Mami says if I try really hard then Ingrid will let us get another one."

The nice lady keeps nodding and she even plays with you for a bit before she goes back to Ingrid, who she talks to for a few minutes before returning to you.

She shakes a little box at you and you peer closer to get a better look.

"Do you want a sticker?" She asks and you look at Mami for guidance.

Mami nods her permission.

"You got a lion?" You ask," 'Cause that's what I am."

The nice lady laughs and, despite her staring problem, you think you like her. "I do have a lion. Would you like it?"

"Please."

She hands you your new lion sticker and you take Ingrid's hand as you walk out.

"Why'd we go and see the lady?" You ask.

"Well," Mami says," She was just making sure you were good and healthy."

"That's what doctors do. Why'd we go to a new doctor?"

"She's not quite a doctor," Mami explains," She looks after little girls who have the same superpower as you."

You think that over for a moment before turning to look at Ingrid. "Mama, did the nice lady say I was healthy?"

"She did. She also gave us some ideas on how to help you during your bad days."

You pull a face. "I don't like my bad days."

"I know, cub," Ingrid says," But we've got better ways to help you now so you don't have as many."

You nod at that before an idea springs to mind. You tug on Ingrid's hand. "Mama," You say," Do you know what would make my bad days good?"

Ingrid laughs. "What, cub?"

"A new cat."

[fayerien]

rafayel and mc as highschool students, art club's president rafayel, taekwondo club's president mc, rafayel x mc, sfw, fluff, not proofread!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Rafayel as Your Rival (headcanon!)

Rival! Rafayel who silently draws you from his memories and has a special sketchbook full of drawing of yours

Rival! Rafayel who won't stop making fun of your little fish drawing but he secretly thinks that looks adorable

Rival! Rafayel who will instantly sulk if you ignore him trying to get under your skin

Rival! Rafayel who loves watching you practice Taekwondo

Rival! Rafayel who enjoys your playful banter, he can't go a day without arguing with you

Rival! Rafayel who loves to flex he's more famous than you in school and got a lot of girls pining on him

Rival! Rafayel who won't stop pouting if you tease him, though he won't be able to keep being angry at you

Rival! Rafayel who always gets flustered everytime you give your full attention on him

Rival! Rafayel who is a slacker when it comes to study but also a fast learner

Rival! Rafayel who is jealous everytime people (specifically male students) talk about you because you're famous, he wants to be the only one who knows you

Rival! Rafayel who won't waste any second and rushes towards you as soon as he sees you walking down the hallway

Rival! Rafayel who loves to avoid your gaze because he feels like you're reading his mind

Rival! Rafayel who portrays you as a beautiful siren

Rival! Rafayel who loves to show off his drawing at you and says he's better than you

Rival! Rafayel who loves giving you his random drawings and says it was just him being generous

Rival! Rafayel who randomly points at a cat in the hallway (from a safe distance) and says it looks like you

Rival! Rafayel who secretly loves it when you snapped at him for making you annoyed (he thinks you look hot)

Rival! Rafayel who secretly put mineral water or chocolates in your locker while you were practicing

Rival! Rafayel who always accidentally sketches your face in classes

Rival! Rafayel who actually cares about you but he refuses to admit it

Rival! Rafayel who is in love with you without him knowing

ᯓ★masterlist

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requested by: @astrallkiss @taronyuhunter

[miruac]

dating kozume kenma - headcanons

masterlist

navigation

warning(s): not proofread

synopsis: general gist of what it's like dating our favourite gamer boy (｡´ ‿｀♡)

a/n: i love my baby so much it's kinda concerning how obsessed i am with kenma

listen i know he canonly is quiet as hell and doesn't express himself much, so you gotta pay attention to his physical cues

at first when you two started dating he was a bit distant because he wasn't sure how to express his affection for you so it hurt a little

but when you told him how you feel he definitely started trying harder

he spent more time with you, always checked up on you whenever you got home or randomly throughout the day/night

he sends you those posts of cute cats being affectionate and he's like "us"

when he gets jealous, he gets a little insecure and posessive

he gets EXTRA clingy and refuses to let go, so that how you know somethings up with him

he's the person who doesn't like phyical touch often so when he touches you ya gotta SAVOUR it

but he gets pouty when you push him away, its so cute it makes my heart crack

whenever he's done with practice, you're always waiting at the gym for him

he walks you home, and sometimes stays over for dinner(your parents think he's a little quiet but they support you)

during lunch he doesn't eat much, so you've been trying to sneak some more food in his diet

you bring some snacks you know he likes, and he won't turn them down

he gets a little suspicious after a couple of weeks, but he loves you and doesn't mind

when you guys argue, he gets quiet because he doesn't know how to put his feelings into words

also because it gets so heated he automatically shuts down because he doesn't WANT to be arguing with you

it takes a while for him to properly form his thoughts into words, and when he does he's trying his best

but he loves you more than you think he does, and he can't imagine losing you

on the train ride home you would sit next to him

and if he was tired after practice he would lean over n rest his head on your shoulder

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n 2: guys this is all i have....i promise ill post more often

[jinnie-ret]

Hiii can I rq a skz x 15 y/o trainy were she acts v gen z n stuff?

generation z

aka 3 times Y/N left the boys feeling old

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff, crack

content warnings: none

word count: 1.2k

summary: she's the youngest of the group and the boys can't keep up with her internet slang

Ok first of all I'm sorry my mind got jumbled and I wrote this as the ninth member instead, but if you want to you can still read it as a trainee friend :) also I tried so sorry if you find this cringe lmaoo

MAIN MASTERLIST

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1) Slay

Y/N was currently on a VLIVE with danceracha, not that she was a part of it, but she was the best hypeman around, both the boys and Stays knew this. They were practicing 'Wow', the danceracha track and Y/N was obsessed.

"Wow, wow, wow!!" Y/N shouted along with the song's chorus, comically jumping up and down in the back of the room and waving her SKZ lightstick around. It was quite the scene, Stays laughing in the comments at her enthusiasm whilst admiring the boys dance.

As soon as they finished dancing she cheered loudly for them, handing them their water bottles and reading the comments from Stays.

"'Y/N is the best hypeman', duh!" Y/N jokingly pulled an obvious face at the camera as she continued reading comments, Hyunjin sitting next to her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"'Y/N is so me'," Y/N read out and smirked, "hey Stay..."

"Oh lord," Hyunjin moved away, already anticipating that their maknae was going to do something that would disturb his ears. And he was right to do so.

"I AM YOU, I SEE ME IN YOU-" Y/N sang loudly at the top of her lungs, before Lee Know muffled her shouts with his hand.

"Aigoo, our Y/Nnie is so loud," he patted her head too, a condescending smile on his face.

"Yah hyung! You're normally the loudest! Let her be hyper!" Felix giggled, pushing Lee Know's hands away from Y/N.

"Yeah, Stays think I'm funny!" Y/N stuck her tongue out as the boys and her sat around reading the comments again.

"Go on then, give us a joke, Miss Comedian," Hyunjin poked her cheek.

"Ok, Lee Know your hands smell like cat litter," Y/N shrugged her shoulders and said bluntly, making danceracha burst out into laughter and Lee Know get up to chase her.

"That wasn't even a joke," Hyunjin giggled.

"It was a diss," Felix laughed along, the other two still running around the room. It was too much for Stays to handle, this moment going into many fan compilations in the future.

"Hey, hey Stays," Y/N stood in the middle of the room, fighting against Lee Know as he tried to drag her off screen.

"Hey, Stays, all around the world, you make Stray Kids SLAY!!" Y/N cheered and then squealed as Lee Know lifted her into the air.

"What-" Hyunjin facepalmed, shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"I'm gonna have to use that one," Felix nodded as he giggled.

2) Gyatt

Y/N was currently recording her parts in the ROCKSTAR album, entering the studio with an iced coffee in hand.

"What's poppin?" she matched Han's energy as he laughed and repeated after her, Chan and Changbin shaking their heads with small smiles.

"Ok, Y/N, we're recording Megaverse first, you ready?" Chan pressed the button to speak so Y/N would hear him once she was in the recording booth.

"Aish, my ears!" Y/N jumped at how loud his voice was and ducked down to crouch on the floor, making the staff laugh with the members.

Soon she began recording a small rap part which was new for her, she was part of vocalracha and so was used to singing on their tracks.

"Ok, Y/N, do the same again but just a bit louder, like you want the world to hear your message," Changbin leant over Chan as he gave some advice.

"Ok, ok, I got this," Y/N told herself, "GYATT!" she randomly shouted, before continuing to nod, not hearing or looking at the looks of confusion and amusement spread across the faces of 3racha.

She finished recording her rap part successfully and exited the booth, the boys praising her but they only had one question on her mind.

"What was that you shouted?" Chan rose an eyebrow at her, grinning.

"I shouted a lot of things, you told me to shout my rap," Y/N shrugged with a confused smile, hands resting in the pockets of her hoodie.

"Don't play dumb," Changbin pointed out, messing her hair.

"Ohhh," Y/N realised and laughed, "hey Changbin, just start walking over there for a second."

"Why?" Han laughed from the sofa, wondering what the maknae was up to.

"Just do it," Y/N further prompted and so Changbin sighed and nodded.

"GYATT!!!" Y/N shouted once again, as she very obviously looked at Changbin's butt.

"Omo," Chan covered his ears and laughed in shock.

"Understand now?" Y/N laughed.

"Not really, no," said poor Changbin, who had turned around in shock and didn't see what happened. It was often they didn't understand their maknae's slang words.

3) Rizz

Stray Kids were currently filming for Teen Vogue, taking part in the Compliments Battle, a video that would quickly win over Stays' hearts as one of their funniest videos ever.

Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin had already gone, the latter unable to take Seungmin's compliments no longer.

"Innie, I'll avenge you," Y/N whispered to her fellow maknae, who in turn grinned right back at her.

"Yah what are the maknaes talking about?" Seungmin have them an unimpressed look, folding his arms.

"Hyung?" Jeongin asked.

"Yeah?" Seungmin asked back.

"Shhh," Jeongin commanded lightly, making the members laugh. Y/N took her seat opposite Seungmin whilst everyone laughed.

"Y/N is so precious, and has the purest soul, Y/N is my... everything," Seungmin stared Y/N dead in the eyes as he spoke to her, the girl cringing.

"Seungmin is my puppy, I love him so much, cute puppy Seungie so talented," Y/N said sweetly, being over the top as she spoke.

"Oh my gosh," Jeongin wrinkled his nose hearing the words.

"I think I just threw up a bit," Seungmin said in English.

"Wah? Who said that about me?" Y/N gasped and laughed.

"I did. About how you just spoke to me," Seungmin laughed at Y/N's face.

"Yah give me a compliment," Y/N folded her arms.

"Ok, ok," Seungmin stopped laughing, "Y/N is my queen."

"Woahhhh, I'm gonna have that on replay," Y/N smirked. "Let's see... Seungmin is so handsome and sexy- I'm not reading that... Forget the tweets lemme use the Y/N rizz," she smirked as she pulled up her sleeves.

"Rizz?" Jeongin repeated after her looking confused.

"Hey Seungmin, what do you say we go on a romantic walk and pee on a lamppost?" Y/N smirked, the guys choking on their breaths as they were shocked at what she said.

"Y/N... What?!" Seungmin gasped.

"He reacted, he's out!" Jeongin clapped happily.

"No, let me keep going I've got more. He's a puppy get it? It's not weird! Hmmm, what else..." Y/N defended herself and began, as her leader shared nervous glances at the staff, but she didn't need to know that. "Hey are you my dog when I'm depressed?" perhaps Y/N left a pause for too long, "because I just wanna... give you... kisses... Guys stop looking at me like I'm weird!"

Jeongin covered his face to avoid her wrath.

"This isn't just Y/N rizz! This is puppy rizz!"

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami

[cypressvs]

DON'T TWIST THE LION'S TAIL

pairing: jing yuan/gn!reader

cw: suggestive but not explicit, workplace romance?, reader is an unspecified long-life species

wc: 1.0k | join the taglist

Jing Yuan is a cat. You're sure of it.

He's abnormally agile. Foxians were born with heightened senses and naturally superceded an average human when it came to their predispositions but even they would think twice, thrice, before jumping off a three-story high building. Not Jing Yuan though. He just leaps, twirls his Guan Dao with an ease unparalleled, and even had the grace to catch the tea set you managed to throw into the air in fright before speeding off to catch the runaway criminal with a carefree smile.

How many years ago was that? You didn't count but it had to be a good few hundred years since then because that day, on your first meeting, Jing Yuan was a nobody. He was just another face among the ranks of the Cloud Knights that wasn't memorable enough to be remembered. Now, he was a general and his pictures sell for a concerning amount of Strales. No one in the Xianzhou who's in their right mind would not know his name and by extension, yours since you're practically attached by the hip.

Officially, you were an unemployed nobody but everyone in the Seat of the Divine Foresight considered you to be the General's caretaker. The legal matters that concerned the affairs of the Xianzhou were rightfully managed by the secretaries employed there but the more menial and more... troublesome duties were handed off to you. Sometimes, you meet their gazes and they're filled with nothing but respect and gratitude because no one, not a single one, wanted to be the holder of your duties. Why?

Because Jing Yuan was a cat. A temperamental, needy, and mischievous one.

You'd never think of it if you didn't know him first but Jing Yuan was a picky eater. You have to feed him from your hand if he's eating something for the first time. If not that, he'll randomly send you to buy snacks in the middle of a work day. You tried to refuse once but you learned the hard way that not doing as he wishes involved him mocking you by refusing to budge an inch from his seat. At this point, it was easier to just fold and give him a bite after every five papers signed.

Jing Yuan also likes warm spaces. On days when work is more manageable, he'll drag you outside for a stroll but you always end up seating under the shade of a tree in an otherwise empty field. He lies around with eyes closed and an immoveable smile on his face as he enjoys the soft breeze. All the while, you're cursing the static in your legs as Jing Yuan doesn't just lie anywhere, no, he lies on you because he'll be damned if he lets you work while he lazes around. Or so he says.

Other times, Jing Yuan will ignore you entirely, not even sparing you a gaze, yet pouting (in his very own Jing Yuan way; indecipherable to most but not to you) when you don't attempt to console him. He lingers around your peripherals but otherwise refuses to utter a single word to you until you sigh and pull him to you, brushing his hair gently as you tell him about your day. Scrimping out on the details is not allowed. You have to tell him about every little detail from the food you ate for breakfast to your meeting with your visiting relatives or else he'll just sulk even more. You can't figure out the pattern to his attitude but you do remember vaguely that it was the worst about a hundred and two years ago. Such a shame that you had to appease him, hurriedly leaving your poor cousin in the market alone. He says that he understands with a knowing laugh but you don't quite understand yourself. What is there to know anyway?

Jing Yuan, much like a cat, does whatever he wants with almost no care for the rest of the world. Maybe that's why you're in this position now.

You're made intimately aware of how intimidating he can be with how he towers over you, casting a deep shadow on your frame as he firmly pinned you down his desk. His gaze is deep, molten and hiding behind a mystery you were never able to unearth until now. You try to tug yourself out of his grip but that only shuffled the paperwork your back is pressed into.

"Jing Yuan—" your words die down on your throat as he finally shows the first drop of emotion on his face. A smile. Nothing you'd never seen before but for some reason, a shiver climbs down your spine. Alarms flag inside your head as heat pooled under your skin. It floods your muscles that ached—screamed—at you to run. You exhale shakily but when your eyes meet his again, all your will to fight dissipates.

"What else must I do, hm?" He whispers and it might just be your imagination but you swore you saw his teeth glint under the moonlight. "What more shall I give to keep your eyes on me?"

You swallow and you're reminded of something. With your back pressed and with no way to escape, you are nothing but a predator's prey. One that he taunts as you spy the almost imperceptible lilt to his smile. The realization makes you avert your gaze, embarrassed by the heat that races under your cheeks.

"See? You're doing it again. You're warm," he whispers as he lowers his face closer to yours, "then you're cold. Tell me: what conclusion was I supposed to derive from your behavior?"

When you don't respond, Jing Yuan continues. "Logic dictates that you're disinterested but your body—" One hand slides from your wrist to settle on your waist. He gives you the opportunity to run yet somehow, you hesitate. "—says otherwise."

His hair cascades over his shoulders, a lock falling over like a moonbeam by your check and it tickles. It does not go unnoticed, and Jing Yuan chuckles; he delights in the muffled whimper he was able to draw out of you and rejoices at the needy breath you release when he grazes his lips over yours before stopping all at once.

"Well?" He hums. "It appears that I am indeed growing older. My patience is not what it once was. So tell me, little bird, while I can still restrain myself: what is it that you want from me?"

© 2023 CYPRESSVS. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms.

[fuxuannie]

Omg i didn't see requests are open but hello sjchsudb

Going anon because I am a coward

Anygays! Ahem Caelus x reader general hcs pls 👉👈 i love wet cat man wit all my heart

Thank you! And stay hydrated >:(((

* pairing : caelus x gender neutral reader

* prompt : request ♡

* authors note : wet cat man strikes again! caelus fans i am feeding you, for i too lack content of him <\3 most of these r silly and just remind me of a current dynamic of me and a good friend of mine lol

ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ CAELUS is a bit of a man failure, still love him though（≧∇≦）

───── ❝ headcanons ❞ ─────

— he is so incredibly clingy and dan heng is so sick of it, caelus is practically glued to you and will only let go at the promise you'll come with him, or if you're not allowed then you have to reply to his 500 texts daily

— he really likes it when you count the scars on his chest, i imagine he's got tons of scarring and hes a weirdo who sleeps without a shirt and you just trace your fingers over his past scars

— he'll love to talk about the recent expeditions he went on over a cup of coffee, french toast for him and your own favorite snack.

— he tries to avoid looking at trashcans when hes with you but cracks a joke every now and then (gaining a slap to the back of the head for it)

— he tries his best to make good memories, cause a part of him knows the difference between you and him. you were merely mortal, he was.. idk something. but definitely was different. he wants to make sure he has enough smiles from you that he'll never forget how you looked when you were in your happiest moments <3

— the type to say happy anniversary the day before your anniversary cause he got rlly excited and thought it was that day

— he really likes animals and will get distracted if someone has a pet, its a problem when hes visiting someones home and they have a dog he has to play with it for 2 hours minimum

— makes random ass noises when hes bored "rawr" "caelus???"

— likes to hum, especially when you're running your fingers through his hair. he usually does it whenever he feels relaxed

— if you're taller than him, he loves tiptoing to kiss your nose, if youre shorter then he does the same thing but leans down instead lol

— his hair is kinda long enough to style, and he wouldn't really mind if you wanted to do. just ask and he'll happily let you do whatever you want

— he likes to give you his jacket, just randomly he'll sling it over your shoulders (then you not so subtly admire his arms lol)

— he likes back hugs where he leans on you and like his hands around your waist slowly slithering tighter (but not enough that ita comfortable) and ajsnehwksbdj

— his smile is one of your favorite things about him, march 7th and dan heng have listened to you ramble about the way you smile for hours.

— but caelus really likes eye contact, its weird but being able to look into your eyes brings him such comfort. he loves just grabbing you by the chin so he can stare at his beautiful partner.

— sometimes people ask where you found a man like him and you answer he was on the side of the road in the rain sitting in a box giving you kitty cat eyes and he stole your heart just like that (you also say you wish you left him there)

— despite the goof he is, you love him with all your heart. and he'd probably kill a man for you if you asked

[bloodbrown]

Distinct Ways P Shows His Love

• A lot of Pino's love is physical, because he's not great with words or expressing his exact emotions quite yet. Since he's new to human things, his affection can come off a bit strange.

• There's a lot of leaning against you, pushing his head into your shoulders, as well as generally loitering around or silently hovering behind you, as he really enjoys observing you.

• Nose touching!! He likes to smush his face on yours in general but he especially loves giving you a nuzzle with his nose or giving you a soft boop. Right before he leaves for an evening of stalking he'll hold you close, give you a kiss, and nudge your nose with his own.

• He also wants to stroke the back of your head and neck like you do for him, but he tends to just grab your whole face or top of your head with his very wide hand at first. He wants to pet you like a cat so please be patient with him.

• Pino wants you to know when his heart is pounding for you. He will take your hand and place it over his chest, showing you how exhilarated you make him feel when you're around. "That's for you," he'll tell you, so softly and quietly that you almost miss it.

• In addition to his physical affection, P also shows love by bringing back for you silly little trinkets and items (that may even be actual junk) after he returns from scouting Krat. If he sees something that catches his eye, he often decides that he'd like to share this fascination with you.

• Giving to people and doing things for others is a big way that Pino displays his love. He *wants* to do things for you, almost to an absurd degree. This boy will intentionally enter rooms as fast as possible so that he can hold open doors for you. He is trying to be a gentleman.

• If he has time, P does little things for you that he knows will make you happy as a surprise. He remembers every time you tell him you like something, after all.

• For example, he'll just randomly bring fluffier pillows and softer blankets to your bed, or make you some simple refreshments such as soup or tea. If you like to listen to his records with him, he goes out and tries to seek out more just for you to enjoy.

• Lastly, little pranks and practical jokes as he gains humanity show how comfortable P truly is with you. He'll put googly eyes on all your household items. He'll sneak up on you to give you a spook. If you reciprocate, it's the most significant thing in the world for him.

[nshtn]

💖 what does creep ed do if reader tries to escape? is he upset or does he understand? maybe both?

💖 on the flip side, how would he react to them totally reciprocating his feelings?

💖 and similarly, does he crave affection or does it freak him out?

i love this weirdo!!!!!

Writing this from the timeline of the reader being with him long enough to know he loves them.

1)

He gets extremely depressed, but rabidly manic, about keeping you contained/alive. You must understand this - he needs you and cannot be without you. You are the beacon of light-hope, flickering dangerously.

He understands.

To go out is to allow yourself a permanent reprieve from horrors that peck your eyes out. To gutter the flame is a preservation of your innocence to the true nature of Gotham. It must be horrible to be with a beast like him, barely a man, trudging about with stories of death wrapping around his neck. He's sorry, he is.

He'll do better. Tell him how. Please? Edward will beg if he has to. Edward will cry and grovel his way through your capture. Edward will tie you and bind you tightly to this realm with skin-safe rope and a gag if he needs to.

You are irreplaceable, priceless porcelain. Don't worry... he gets it... he'll pay more attention now. That's what you want, right? Attention?

Edward will read and reread every crumb of information he can about you to optimize his care. Infront of you. He will ask the most invasive and personal questions and manipulate the answers out of you in the righteous goal of your taming, your eternal placation of his presence.

He will wash you every day and every night, hold you close more often, and do more with you, but you will be far more heavily restrained for a while and he'll randomly sob while holding you, feeling an incredible guilt collapse on him. You cannot go, though. You cannot ever go.

Outside of your general scope of view, he will become more reckless and violent towards those he believes contribute to Gotham's inequality.

2) See 3 first.

He would delight in it and take full ride of your new found affectations once he mentally accepts them, burying his face in your hands, looking for your touch and praise around every corner. He will show you the horrifying things he does in your name like a cat presenting a hunt, eyes gleaming at you, waiting for your heavenly approval. He will teach you his craft and ramble in your ear as you drape yourself across him in his lap. He'll take your suggestions for dinner and feel your skin against his as often as you'll allow as payment.

You don't need binds anymore. Just a collar... a chip, maybe... and... and a cute little jingly bell... please...?

He'll also let his hands get away from him when holding you exploratively, reaching and grasping around in an effort to delight in the treat of sounds you might make knowing you now approve of this arena of contact. He will be baptized with the slick of you if you don't have boundaries to assert.

You have truly underestimated how fast of a learner Edward is. You have, perhaps, also underestimated just how often his disappearances after spending mere hours bathing in your glittering shine has been to please himself to the thought of your acceptance. It is tantamount to sex to someone as pervertedly deprived as him. You're practically a fetish.

He has your browser history. He's read it. He likes to study you. You're so cute when you squirm. You're adorable when you breathe a little harder when his fingers brush there.

Good luck.

3) Both? Both. Why do you like him? Tell him all about it... he doesn't see what you do. You're probably just saying it because you have to. You must secretly hate him. No one could ever love Edward. No one did for thirty-something-odd years, and it changes now? Impossible. You've simply deluded yourself...

Edward fearfully pulls away. He reverts to being more cold, to keeping his outfit on more often, burying himself in his work in an effort to avoid the pain of opening up... and when you rest, when your eyes flutter shut, he holds you tighter than anything. When he comes home each day, before the deep red has been scrubbed off his boots, he's tangling you into his lap and swimming in your homely scent. Hot, cold - all a fear-fuelled front opposing insurmountable, cascading, recursive desire that leaks around its' cracked-cap edges.

Once he is convinced through defeating the seven deadly sins of his avoidance of risk in possibly losing you by opening up to you, though... see 2. How you convince him is as mysterious as he is, however.

[khvlani]

college calex hc

gift-giving wasn’t practiced in alex’s household and her parents weren’t around often. they just give her money and the rest is up to her. so growing up she always thought that receiving a gift only happens if you do something good or win something. for her, it felt like you have to work for it in order for you to receive something good.

casey on the other hand, was used to receiving gifts. although she didn’t grow up rich, her parents often found ways to reward her actions. her parents also taught her about how being generous and giving can change people’s lives. as a result of these actions, casey grew up having gift giving as a love language.

in college, they happen to share one class together and the moment casey’s eyes landed on the blue-eyed blonde, she developed a crush. they got paired once for a project and instantly clicked. they then became friends. casey’s feelings for alex grew everyday while alex still had her guard up. this didn’t stop casey though, she was determined to make alex trust her and possibly grow feelings for her.

what she would do is give alex little sweet treats by the end of the class along with little post-it notes filled with motivational words just because (she does it at the end of the period because she’s unfortunately always late). alex always hesitates to receive them and often wonders why casey does this.

alex eventually had the courage to ask her why she keeps giving her little gifts (overtime she gave her little trinkets as well). casey easily responded with “because i care for you and you deserve it” which shook alex’s world because this is not normal and she finds it weird.

alex: you’re not leaving are you?

casey: no..?

alex: do i owe you something, then?

casey: not that i know of

alex: just tell me what i did please so this won’t bug me anymore

casey: i just like giving you things, alex. it’s just my thing. i like giving gifts and i like seeing you little smile after you receive the things. i’m doing it because i care for you.

this eventually led to a very deep conversation that made alex realize that it is normal to receive and give gifts randomly. she started to normalize receiving giving gifts to casey which made them closer.

and you know how casey is always late? being late resulted to her having to choose the bad chairs in class which annoyed her. she didn’t get to seat next to alex and she couldn’t hear the lecture very clearly. once alex figured the thing between casey and gift giving, her love language — acts of service— started to show when she would save casey a seat during lecture. she would also share her notes with casey if she missed something.

this pattern went on for years. alex doing things for casey without her saying and casey gifting alex with things she needed (and random trinkets). even as co-workers and now, gfs, they would still show off their love language in their own ways in their own perfect times.

- one of the trinkets casey gave alex is a black little cat that now lives in alex’s desk in her office. and those post-it notes? they’re all pinned go a cork board displayed in alex’s office.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Migration

You know, for a while, I thought Luka was one of the smartest characters in the show, and the fact that he's hightailing it out of Paris in this episode only continues to prove my point.

Let's get into the thirteenth episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Migration

We start off with Marinette running over to the Liberty (with her friends laughing behind her back like the supportive people they are) and tries to talk with Luka about her relationship with Adrien once they're in private. Luka is pretty supportive, and it's a nice scene. Marinette then bumps into Adrien, who also wants to talk with Luka, and while the two try to get unstuck, we get a nice visual of Luka seeing the two as Ladybug and Cat Noir, which is there to remind the audience that he's known who both of them are ever since “Wishmaker”.

Adrien then talks to Luka about how he's worried something is keeping Marinette from being honest about her feelings. Luka gives him some advice on how just because he doesn't know everything about Marinette, it doesn't make her feelings for him less valid, and vice versa.

After Adrien leaves, we get an appearance from everyone's favorite deadbeat dad, Jagged Stone. He asks Luka how he can be a better father like he didn't miss years of child support, but all Luka really says is that he needs to spend time with his damn family. Of course, what I like about this scene is that it avoids the usual narrative pitfall of trying to say that Jagged and Anarka, Luka's mom, should get back together, and instead shows Jagged developing feelings for his agent, Penny.

Speaking of, after Jagged leaves, Penny comes in to come to Luka for advice. Okay, is Luka just the Dr. Phil of this show's universe? Penny talks to Luka about her sudden feelings for Jagged Stone.

Penny: No, I don't know why I'm in love with your father. He's disorganized, childish, selfish, and musically speaking, he's no David Bowie. Truth be told, your dad's a walking disaster. So why do I love him?

Luka: Does he make you happy, Penny?

Penny: Yeah. I just can't figure out why!

It's almost like this show will randomly pair people up at the drop of a hat. But hey, at least Luka hasn't asked if Kagami is single yet.

Before Penny leaves, Bob Roth, Jagged's producer, demands to know where he is, as he needs to record a new album. Bob learns that Jagged had children with Anarka (ignoring the potential scandal it could create), so Anarka promptly throws him out of the boat in a scene that I'm pretty sure is meant to be a reference to that one running gag from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

Either way, Jazz's scream was funnier.

Kitty Section then practices their latest song about how you don't have to be rich, because even the songs in this show aren't exactly subtle with their messages. Bob somehow gets back on the Liberty completely dry, and offers the band a contract.

Bob: How would you like to sign a contract with me?

Luka: Actually, Bob, you already offered to sign us... Marinette: And you never followed up. Did you forget?

Bob: Huh? Uh... of course! I remember! I was just waiting for the right reason—uh, I mean, the right time! I was waiting for the right time to have you guys sign the contract!

My God, even the characters in this show want to forget it used to have good episodes.

Anarka throws Bob off again, where she and Luka talk about how everyone deserves a second chance and that change is possible.

Yeah, funny how that message almost never came up with Chloe, Lila, and Felix last season, isn't it? And given that they're going to use Bob as an example of this lesson, I don't think it's going to be a positive one. So right after Luka generously decided to give Bob a second chance, Bob offers them a new contract to sign... and as soon as he does, he screws them all over thanks to a lot of fine print they didn't stop to read.

Ivan: He can fire us whenever he wants?

Bob: Yep, and I just did, by the way.

Rose: The name Kitty Section belongs to him?!

Bob: Yep. It’s ugly, but it’s mine. Marinette: He owns everything you’ve made and will make over the next thousand years!? Bob: Gotta cover all bases.

Zoe: Marinette's costumes, the music video Nino shot, the website Mylene runs...

Bob: All mine!

Adrien: And you can’t even start another band together?

Bob: Course not, that’d be unfair competition! EVERYTHING belongs to me! Everything you are, everything you say, everything that’s in your hearts belongs to me!

See, kids? This is why you should never trust bad people. It doesn't matter if they say they want to improve. They just want to trick you and ruin your life, so if you're ever wronged by anyone, that person is never able to redeem themselves, especially if they're rich. As we all know, rich people are far worse than insane supervillains who want to rewrite reality. Just ask the biggest monster in the show, Chloe Bourgeois.

So yeah, Luka's optimism being taken advantage of is enough to attract the attention of Monarch, who attempts to akumatize him into Silencer again. Monarch realizes that Luka knows Ladybug and Cat Noir's identities (why he didn't think to look into it, given Viperion's powers, is left unanswered), and angrily smashes his guitar to free himself of Monarch's influence.

So not only did he stop himself from getting akumatized, he's also one step closer to becoming a true rock star.

Somehow, Bob thinks only keeping Luka on board would mean he wouldn't hate him, but Luka isn't buying it. Bob is shocked that Luka wouldn't want to work for an asshole like him as Luka tears the contract in half, but Bob has backups. Monarch decides to settle on Bob instead, akumatizing him into Gold Record.

Gold Record's design is... okay. It's still better than Sole Destroyer, and it's definitely better than Moolak. The gold coloring looks nice, and the euro symbol on the record is a nice visual. His powers are pretty much just a combination of Pixelator, the Collector, and Truth's powers, transforming people into records who sing their true feelings while using the Horse Miraculous' Voyage to throw the records into space. Nothing too original there, but it's a good metaphor for sleazy music producers, and it works for this story.

Rose and Anarka are the first of Gold Record's victims, and in a hurry, Luka lets Adrien know he knows he's Cat Noir, giving him a place to hide. Just as Juleka is hit by Gold Record, Ladybug and Cat Noir arrive on the scene. While Cat Noir holds off Gold Record, Ladybug tries to come up with a plan.

Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a knitting needle. She realizes her plan will need to involve using Luka as bait. Luka is forced to reveal that he knows who Ladybug and Cat Noir are, and what will happen if Gold Record gets him, setting up a tough choice that will force Ladybug to rethink her plan... and then the next scene happens, where Luka lets himself get hit, where Ladybug manages send Gold Record's record flying with a makeshift bow and arrow created from the knitting needle and a nearby fiddle, which Cat Noir immediately Cataclysms.

Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and gives Bob Roth a Magical Charm that even he knows is useless at this point. Ladybug and Cat Noir decide to call it a day and let Anarka throw Bob Roth out again.

Luka reveals that he knows Ladybug and Cat Noir's identities (because once again, sharing that information with your friends is totally fine for some reason), and that he can't stay in Paris. After revealing that he had Fang eat all of Bob's contracts so Luka isn't bound by them anymore, Jagged offers to take Luka around the world to finally make up for years of absence while Luka makes Juleka the new leader of Kitty Section. And so the episode ends with the Couffaine family sharing a hug while Luka gives one last look to his friends Marinette and Adrien.

This episode was just average, all things considered. The plot and the lesson it was setting out to teach, while not terrible, felt a little tacked on. It was if the writers were trying to acknowledge the stuff that happened with Chloe and wanted to show an example of redemption arc done right in the case of Jagged. It falls flat because once again, more focus is given to showing how easy it is to be screwed over trusting someone than showing the benefits to trusting someone, especially since Bob is already an outlandish villain we already have a lot of reasons to hate.

I'm also mixed on the handling of Luka here. While I'm glad Marinette isn't being forced to learn a lesson here, I don't get why Luka had to be the one to be taken advantage of. He's already aware of how easy it is for Monarch to learn his secrets, so it feels weird that he lets himself and his friends get taken advantage of so easily. Outside of the scene with Ladybug's Lucky Charm, I don't get why he needed to tell the others the stuff he knew. I can sort of see why he'd tell Adrien, but why would he think telling his friends he knows who Ladybug and Cat Noir are wouldn't endanger them too?

Speaking of that, despite being established for almost an entire season, we really don't see enough of Marinette and Adrien reacting to Luka revealing that he knows who they are. Marinette only gets a few lines, and Adrien doesn't even get to say anything. While I am glad that Marinette and Adrien aren't dominating the plot for once, it feels weird that we don't get to see their reactions to something so shocking, especially with how often the identity rule has been enforced.

On the other hand, the writing is still handled a lot better than usual. I like how Monarch chooses to change his strategy to focus on Luka halfway through the episode, and the idea of the risk using Luka for Ladybug's plan brings is an interesting one, even if they don't really go anywhere with it. The running gag with Bob constantly getting thrown off the Liberty is a funny one, and it proves you can actually write slapstick that doesn't involve humiliating Marinette. Who knew?

As a whole, while I think this is the best episode of the season so far, this episode still has its fair share of problems.

THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... LUKA

Not counting the time Marinette got the award in my review of the Shanghai Special, we have the first character this season to get the Biggest Idiot Award twice. For someone who is usually smarter than the other characters, Luka made quite a few bad choices this episode. He decided to trust Bob Roth after he screwed him and his friends over in “Silencer”, he didn't think to read the contract he was offered, and after being endangered by what Monarch knows now, he decided to tell his friends and family that he knows who Ladybug and Cat Noir are, potentially putting them all in danger too. Yeah, the next few episodes will probably just ignore it, but there's always a chance Monarch could try another Optigami, even if he doesn't have the Peacock Miraculous anymore.

And with that, I'm officially done with the first half of Season 5. What do I think of it? Well, I think Immortan Joe said it best:

Yeah, this season was pretty boring, all things considered. To be perfectly honest, I struggled here more than I did last season because I wasn't sure what to say about half of the episodes I watched. There was almost nothing of substance these past thirteen episodes, and I could barely say anything other than “this episode is okay” or “this episode is bad”. Whenever I had ideas, they were usually extensions to things I've already talked about, like the Marinette angst, the historical and cultural inaccuracies, and the villains genuinely being incompetent. If you showed someone a few episodes of Season 1 and this season, outside of Monarch's new appearance, it'd be pretty hard for them to tell the difference.

But hey, maybe things will pick up in the second half of the season. Hell, maybe the next episode will be even better than this one, and... huh. Does anyone else hear an ominous whistling in the background?

[mapsofnonexistentplaces]

hai im very curious about bolots ability to turn into a cat. is it a trait he was born with or is it learned? what form does he generally prefer?

hehe favorite thing to talk about regarding that guy. this requires some setup so bear with me a bit

so the general workings of magic in OAR are a bit vague and i don’t want to rationalise them too much but effectively i think magic is just a thing that certain people are randomly born with whilst simultaneously being something that people can develop if they spend a lot of time in a place with ‘magical inclinations’. zdrengen, the town where argent rattle takes place, is a ‘well of magic’ due to being on an arbitrary metaphysical border with the realm of subconsciousness known as the dream world. so basically magic in this world is not so much a practiced science or something really publicly acknowledged so much as it is literal ‘dream logic’ that allows people to do certain things, whether they are born innately with their abilities or sort of grow them out upon living in a place drenched in dream logic. it is a very meta framing that has a very magical realism edge to it so it’s tough to explain but hopefully that works

bolot and his sister alena were directly born in zdrengen to immigrants originating in places lacking proximity to the dream world. so neither of the two really ‘inherited’ their powers through lineage and i’m tempted to say that that cannot really happen since powers are highly individualised? but i digress. effectively bolot developed his transformation ability because he’s been living in zdrengen all his life and had heavy exposure to dream logic (realising now — i suppose the way i describe dream logic sounds like radiation? befitting considering this story takes place after partial nuclear fallout, hah) and so he has been able to ‘practice’ and train his ability to full control

anyway, i want to say bolot’s powers developed when he was around like? 12? 13? young teen who was starting to become very aware of his own body and Did not like it. dude textually struggles a lot with body dysmorphia and more subtextually, dysphoria, and also has undiagnosed me/cfs which would’ve probably kicked in hard in his early teens too. much like a fever breaking in he sort of had random spontaneous bursts of turning into a cat uncontrollably, which peaked with heavy emotional instability and also post-exertional malaise. this was evidently very very scary but as he learned to expect it and sort of decided to take advantage of it in lieu of just hiding until he turned back to normal, he discovered his fatigue went down significantly as he occupied a smaller body, and the inhumanity of such a body quelled a lot of his own judgements about himself, at least momentarily. in the coming years he started sensing when transformations would occur and in turn, his powers became responsive to his feelings, allowing him voluntary control of his transformation alongside the ability to repress it. i want to say by his mid 20s he managed to get that shit down completely and so started to think of his powers as a very, very good thing

in his current age he basically prioritises his cat form, finding it the most comfortable. when going out for small errands or just idle wandering he’ll transform and then just set upon the streets of zdrengen poised as a feral cat — many people either know or suspect him having the ability to transform into a cat, but it’s kind of an open secret at best and he elects to believe he’s being subtle about it. part of his comfort with publicly being a cat is, as mentioned, a result of his insecurity in the physical space he takes up and his disability, but also significant is his typical discomfort in social situations and most conversations. being a cat limits his voicebox to that of a cat’s, so he sort of feels it’s more justified to onlookers if he doesn’t respond to things or does not express the ‘correct’ emotional response expected of him. being a cat is very much a matter of comfortable privacy for him….

he’s usually only really in his human form if he has to go out for Important Business, if he has to assist alena with something, or if he’s hosting guests at his place, the latter of which he’s slowly grown increasingly more comfortable with doing over the years. enough so to host intermittent piano lessons for anyone willing to pay for them, at least… and of course it goes without saying he’ll turn into a human when he needs to perform motor actions that are literally impossible for a cat to do, such as playing an instrument, which is his job! that being said he’s also capable of only partial transformation, which keeps him relatively humanoid — he’ll often stick to this for indulgences like piano playing for when he needs to be focused and comfortable….

fun fact also, the way dream logic works is that there is kind of a limited supply of it per month or something, much like an internet connection lol. if too much of it is used up it gets throttled and becomes unbearably slow for everyone. everyone in town with powers has an imposed limit of how much magic they can use and bolot often slightly oversteps it — though actually being a cat does not cut into the power supply any transformation back and forth does, and he often shifts multiple times a day. he gets nagged about it by the guy in charge of said power supply, qasim, but qasim often lets this slide anyway since they’re friends and he knows of bolot’s whole depressive dissociative thing so he’s just like Fine slow down for the next few days if you can though. they’re funny

[eldritch-spouse]

ok so this is a two’fer here;

1. do Lust demons spray like cats? like i feel like they do, feel it in m’bones.

2. how would your Icons (mainly Vesper, Zizz, and Kal) feel about a mate who’s really deep into witchcraft and the wiccan religion? i’d like to hear your thoughts on how they’d react to all the ‘strange’ spells and customs we do in wicca :D

(have a nice day pinnie and happy late birthday!!)

[Thenk you!! :'}]

TW: Joking mention of watersports.

1) Are- Are you asking me if they randomly just piss on things? Because. I mean. If that's your fetish many of them will probably humor it, but I don't think that's standard practice.

What Lust demons can and will do is effectively put their scent on you in many ways. Or simply permeate a room with their pheromones- Which they pump through specific areas, as opposed to spraying it like febreze.

2)

That kind of depends. In all honesty, I don't feel well equipped to answer this because I'm not connected to those practices at all, so allow me to generalize.

Traditionally fiendish magic is very different from other types. Many of the Icons will express great interest in learning new practices, gouging your overall power, and making sure to suppress any procedures that can be used against infernal beings.

As usual, controlling you is their priority, praise and interest comes second to that.

Vesper is naturally very interested in the sexual uses your magic can have, though he's also simply a fan of watching you get into your own craft, often wondering if mixing your magic and his could make something altogether new.

Zizz is mostly worried with the toll such magics can take on you. Humans are the most magically adept beings, and although your chosen form of magical practice is not the most parasitic of them all, the Icon still discourages you from trying to perform some rituals.

If it doesn't cause great suffering, Kalymir won't bat an eye to your antics. Any sort of ritual that requires sacrificial practices or the handling of gore is definitely something the demonlord will want to watch you perform however.

[thelittlecopseclan]

Info ^_^

Well hi everyone, name's Kira (@ykskira) and i'm a little artist making this silly clangen challenge.

Here some info about this blog:

This is a clangen blog just for fun and practices

I'm not very good writing in English bcs it's not my native speaking so in advance sorry about my bad grammar xp

Everything is randomly generated by the game (but sometimes I might change the names of the cats)

I wouldn't be sure how often the updates would be but you could say one moon a week

Tags about the clan:

#Yksmoon : moon update

#Yksceremony : ceremonies in the clan I think

#Yksref : reference sheets of the cats or sprites

#Yksooc : out of context, like memes or something like that

#Yksfanart : some draws I post in my main about the cats or some that you do (If i get some)

#Yksask : feel free to ask things to the cats and i will post them with this tag ^^

#Ykspatrol : tag when the cats go in a normal patrol

Some blogs I get inspired to make this:

@fog-and-the-frost @passing-moments @whispering-clan

@fallenclan @fadeclangen @bug-clan @sporeclan

@beetleclan @songclangen @echoes-in-echoclan

@juniper-clan and @cricketclan (Sorry y'all for the mention)

And.. I thinks i don't have something more to put here, so.. here my silly sona

[the-chattering-tower]

Speaking of Pixel Cat's End! Here's my feelings on the site so far, after three days of playing and also not yet having touched the forums aside from Guides/FAQs

I am absolutely in love with the art style. Every image on the site fills me with joy. I never knew I needed an entire site of pixel doodles in my life but goddamn I evidently did

(There is something to be said about the fact that I grew up on books illustrated by Réber László. Anyway)

At first how slow paced the game is felt weird (nothing but Adventuring to do past dailies, cats take almost a third of a year to grow up, getting new jobs or kittens will take a long time from when you join) bc I'm the kinda person who loves to putter around endlessly in games. But this game seems committed to its choice of slowness, and once you get used to it, it's really pleasant

The amount of very conscious steps taken to alleviate the anxiety that may come from starting a new game and having to do things with Consequences warms my heart

The opening sequence/tutorial in general is really good quality. I didn't feel like I needed to scour the forums endlessly from the first minute to be able to play comfortably at all

The lack of tooltips when hovering over items feels strange. Combined with the fact that the category icons are tiny to the point of impossible to pick out/tell apart means that every time I get any item that looks significant, I just rush to my Inventory and click through categories until I randomly find them

Accessibility my beloved. Petsites in my experience tend to have Issues with implementing accessibility features partly bc they think ppl with screenreaders are wholly outside their demographic, and partly bc most petsites are Old and have many years of technological debt to reckon with. So seeing a site built from the ground up with accessibility in mind (alt text, night mode, limited text colours that are visible on both site themes, keybinds for adventuring, etc) is wonderful

Pronouns :]

I am very intrigued by the genetics system and its ability to be both very complex and very well explained. I don't know if I'll ever get to get into it in practice but i am Looking

I am so excited by the amount of things that are Not Yet Added but Someday Will Be. The entire undiscovered map, the potential additions to the genetic system, the growth of Adventuring, Ascension, magic. There is so much in the future!!

I'm probably forgetting some stuff but that's it for now

[obeythebreadlord]

Ninjago Movie headcanons

Pt. 6

🌿Lloyd🌿

-PRECIOUS BBY

-Had hella long hair when he was younger

-Hated that era of him and always finds an excuse to bolt if someone brings it up

-Actually knows how to play the ukulele

-Always kept it secret from everyone though until Zane found him practicing once

-He thought everyone would judge him but instead they thought it was so cool and requested a bunch of songs

-Is secretly rlly touch starved but would never admit it

-He may deny it to his grave but he once fell asleep in his moms arms when she hugged him

-His birthday is September 22 cause that’s when the ninjago movie was released :D

-Also huge cat person

-Likes to feed stray cats after school and overall just has a huge soft spot for them

-trans dude 🤯

-Was actually very open about being trans when he’s the green ninja, he revealed it in a interview he had with the ninjago news station

-Garmadon may hated him but he would and still would not hesitate one bit to shoot any of his generals out of the volcano at full speed if they misgendered him

-He may be the worse guy ever but he’s not going to be transphobic

-Once got caught by Wu wearing one of his outfits

-Surprisingly he wasn’t mad and just laughed and said “Seems your already getting ready to be a master huh?”

-Sometimes vents to his mech about his problems when they’re really bothering him, it even sometimes nods it’s head unintentionally

-(perhaps his mech is alot smarter and aware then he originally thinks-)/hsrs

-His eyes are very sensitive to light bc their green and lighter than other ppls eyes

-Knows how to do a really good villain laugh, he got it from his father

-Is the master of Halloween with that laugh

-Also surprisingly good with little kids

-Sometimes if he has some time on his hands he’ll just randomly come to a kids birthday party as the green ninja, he ofc wasn’t invited but the parents don’t mind

-After Garmadon had stopped his evil ways, Lloyd didn’t know how to bond with him other than like how a 6 year old would

-For example whenever Garmadon would take him home after a night of adventure, he would just pretend to be asleep in the car (or mech) just so that his dad could carry him inside.

-Always feels like he has to be serious but his friends always manage to bring out his little kid side

-Also knows how to speak Japanese fluently

-Garmadon tried to mess with him once by talking in Japanese and was flabbergasted when he spoke Japanese back

-Also knows how to make gremlin noises

-Overall very silly guy much love to him he’s my favorite