#but actually cut the painting into four pieces

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

cnetizens post souvenir they got at various chinese museums

these are all fridge stickers

[ms-demeanor]

Do you know of any resources for physical film photo manipulation? Not sure if there's different terms for non-digital stuff, but I'm having a hard time finding anything.

Okay so there are, I'm going to say (casually, informally, and inexpertly - photography experts feel free to correct me or add on to what I've missed), four major types of photo manipulation that are common with non-digital photography. They are: exposure manipulation, compositing, actually photographing weird bullshit, and just straight up painting.

Exposure manipulation gets you things like Ansel Adams "Moonrise." This is what it looks like if it's evenly exposed:

And this is what it looks like with significant modifications to the exposure:

That is. Like. SEVERAL layers of different exposures for the final print. This can be achieved through processes called "dodging" and "burning." "Dodging" is creating a physical mask so that the parts of the negative you want to remain darker are exposed to less light. "Burning" is creating a physical mask so that the areas you the negative you want to be brighter are exposed to more light.

This is a process that is really, really easy to do in photoshop, and really really hard to do in film.

Here is a very comprehensive writeup of how to dodge and burn, and why you might want to.

Compositing is a fancy way of saying "copy/paste". But more so. And with more techniques. Compositing is basically combining two or more images to create one new image. You can do this by making multiple exposures (exposing the negative to light multiple times), splicing film negatives together (physically cutting the negatives and taping pieces to each other), or by combining negatives and prints into a new print. For instance the image below is made up of six different photos, which were composited into a single image by Henry Peach Robinson in 1877.

This is an article written by a photographer who walks you through the process they used to make a composite print in 2020. It involves a lot of planning, cutting, pasting, masking, dodging, and burning. This is a writeup from a photographer who uses a more blunt method of splicing negatives together to create more abstract images.

Actually photographing weird bullshit is what I'm calling "in camera effects." There are all kinds of tricks that you can use while taking a photo to create surreal or magical effects. One that a lot of people know is the speeder in Star Wars:

The floating speeder wasn't achieved through later manipulation of the film, but instead through mirrors hanging in front of the wheels and vaseline smeared on the camera lens to create a blurred effect.

Light painting is perhaps the most commonly used of these kinds of effects:

That's a 6-second exposure, the first three seconds were of the cup and saucer still, then the light was lowered as the cup was lifted and light was swept up when the cup was in place to make it look like it was floating.

The Cottingley Fairy Hoax is one of the best known examples of manipulating photos by just photographing weird bullshit. In 1917, two girls cut pictures of fairies out of a book and took pictures of themselves with the paper fairies propped up in trees, then swore up and down that they actually found fairies.

This seems crude, but hey they couldn't reverse image search the fairies or anything back then. Some of the photos also make good use of forced perspective, which is something that we still use for in-camera manipulations (it was how a lot of Lord of the Rings was filmed in order to make the hobbits look small)

Here's a listicle with a bunch of "hacks" for using your camera and for testing out some types of in-camera effects.

Just Straight Up Painting is what I'm calling photo retouching. It's a bit of an exaggeration to call it "painting" but yeah sometimes it was literally putting paint on negatives or etching away parts of negatives. It's how you end up with photos like this:

Here's an article about retouched photos of Joseph Stalin (maybe the most well known examples of pre-digital photo retouching) and an article about the art of portrait retouching. These examples are relatively subtle, but you can also use these kinds of retouching and airbrush techniques to exaggerate parts of an image or add objects to an image (see the text added to the flag in the article about Stalin).

I can't think of any comprehensive resources offhand, but photographers love to tell you how they pulled of their photos (which is why quite a few of the links above are from photographers discussing process). This is by no means a comprehensive list of non-digital photomanipulation techniques, but hopefully it's enough terminology to get you started on what you're looking for.

[crowdsourcedgender]

My zine, 'Label Coining as an Artform', is finally done! Transcript/Image ID underneath (warning: it's long). Printed version in a reblog.

[Image ID: A series of pages in a zine. The text is handwritten, and all figures described are simplified stick figures.

Page 1: ‘LABEL COINING as an ARTFORM in large text. Below is the multicolored MOGAI wheel, with three figures taking pieces of the colors and using them for art: sculpting, cutting a piece of paper, and painting. Below is ‘a MOGAI (& LIOM!) zine by Elliot/Hesper aka @ crowdsourcedgender on tumblr. Under the text are five pride flags: aro-spec, veldian, alterhuman, xenoman, and schooldoodlic.

Page 2: ‘Label Coining’ in large pink text. ‘(in this context) is the act of creating a word (and usually flag) for a certain experience!’. Next to this text is a figure filled in with pink with a speech bubble full of pink shapes, talking to someone using a cane holding out a hand and expressing a question mark. Below reads ‘generally a queer experience, but does often include or incorporate disability, neurodivergence etc.’ A figure asks ‘Why?’ and the text reads ‘I would say these are the ‘core tenets’:’. In a cloud next to this text is a blue and purple pride flag with purple text reading: ‘like this cool prosopagnosia flag I made!’.

The bottom half of the page is split into two columns: ‘Understanding’ and ‘Community’. The first column has a purple arm amputee explaining a purple rectangle to another purple person who is thinking ‘that’s me!!’. Next to them another purple person is explaining the same rectangle to a blank person, who has a purple-filled thought bubble with a white exclamation mark. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by question marks: ‘Labels help people understand what they are experiencing, and communicate this to others. It’s easier to explain something when it’s already been written down!” The second column has a purple person holding a purple umbrella. They are waving to a purple person in a wheelchair. A purple person is leading another one to the group. Underneath the drawing is text surrounded by connected dots: ‘People can unite under a shared label whether this group is big or small! Whether for practical purposes (like advice) or just for fun, having people like you is nice.

Page 3: ‘And these are just as important as ever! But I’ve noticed what I like to call COINING for the sake of CREATION’. This last phrase is in large, dark and light blue text. Two sun symbols are on either side. Below is the text: ‘Vexillology is very clearly an artform, but label coining has become something more (not to mention that not all new labels have flags!). It’s composed of multiple skills has become more than the sum of its parts. Any art captures an experience, but label coining is much more explicit about it. And not just people’s experience of their identity! Part of the art of label coining is incorporating other concepts too, e.g. Schooldoodlic A gender related to doodling on school work papers and/or your homework. By spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr.’ The text about Schooldoodlic is small and light teal. Next to the text is its flag.

Page 4: ‘Elements of Label Coining’. The text on this page is separated into four green boxes.

‘Naming: Coming up with the actual word can be tricky. Generally, labels with lots of elements get more leeway with length. It’s important to check that a label isn’t already a word as well.’ Next to this text is more rough, dark green text reading ‘Premade suffixes + prefixes help! And latin (for some languages) as it’s possible to intuit meaning!’ Around the text is a few examples: ‘-vesil’ ‘-musica’ ‘an-’ ‘quoi-’

‘Flag making: Also known as vexillology, this is a pretty big deal. It’s also the most fun for me! You develop a really good sense of color from spending so much recoloring the same three stripes.’ Next to the text is 6 versions of the same pride flag, each with slightly different colors, with a 7th final version with a symbol.

‘Symbol making: Most flags don’t have symbols, but they’re good for groups of labels under a certain umbrella, or just if you have a really good idea.’ Next to this is rough, dark green text reading: ‘I drew three semirealistic flowers for a flag and ended up only using one’ with sad face. Under it is a drawing of a daisy, a pink coneflower, and lavender, which is circled.

‘Descriptions/formatting: Explanations can be artistic in their own right, and formatting is fun to mess with: many people have their own style. Make sure it’s accessible: add image IDs and plain text where applicable. There are a lot of good resources online!’ In dark green text is the phrase ‘Accessibility over Aesthetics’ with an image of a key on top and sparkles below.

Underneath the boxes in light green text is ‘Note: in the right context, any of these can be optional!’

Page 5: ‘If it wasn’t clear, I think this is AWESOME’. Awesome is in large text with yellow radiating lines. Underneath is ‘I’m a MOGAI coiner myself (generally) with about 65 coins at time of drawing. Using something I made, I wanted to demonstrate what a label coining might look like!’ Underneath is four versions of the same pride flag as well as a description, with ‘flag!’ ‘stripe meanings (I don’t normally do these)’ ‘symbol’ ‘name’ ‘pre-existing format’ and ‘experience’ labelled. The description reads ‘[Image ID was here] Human non-conforming (HNC). Human non-conforming (HNC, similar to gender non-conforming) is an umbrella label encompassing all identities and subcultures that somehow incorporate nonhuman elements in any way.’

Page 6: ‘The thing I love most about the label coining community is just that- the community! The way coiners and users interact, as well as how coiners can work together, is wonderful. There are 5 large words each with an associated doodle.

‘Requesting’: A figure leaning on forearm crutches has a speech bubble with yellow shapes exploding out of it. Another figure is taking shapes down from the bubble and forming it into a ball.

‘Collecting’: A figure is pulling a yellow cart with a large cloth bag labelled ‘LABELS’. They have stars in their eyes, and are looking at another person who is gesturing to a yellow rectangle.

‘Collaborating’: Two figures, one with orange speech and one with yellow speech and an AAC tablet are discussing, with many shapes and lines intermingling to make a fragmented rectangle.

‘Combining’: A figure in a grey hijab pulls down a lever. They are standing next to a large blender mixing orange and yellow liquids. On either side is bright yellow lightning.

‘Redesiging’: A small star with four radial lines coming out of it becomes more and more complex, indicated by black arrows.

Under the words is the text: ‘I’ve never participated, but there’s this amazing event called: COINFIGHT. Hosted by @ kiruliom on Tumblr. It’s inspired by artfight, and it involves coining labels for other people- but competitive-ish!’ Coinfight is in large, text with a crescent moon with stars at the top right corner, and a star at the bottom left.

Page 7: ‘I don’t think there’s anything like finding a label that finally fits you, or hearing that something you made did that for someone else.’ Under is a figure looking at an orange flower with light lines, then forming elements of the flower into a bubble, then showing an orange rectangle to another figure, with orange tendrils reaching towards them, forming the shape of a heart. Below is the text ‘There are a lot of things like pouring out your heart- or just having fun- while making or collecting label. I coin in the same mind I sketch and color and shade.’ On each side is a pen drawing an orange figure with a red shirt, and a tablet with an orange and red flag. Under this is ‘Label coining is an artform both like and unlike any other, and I’m proud to participate in it. I hope that if you want to, you can join me. And if that’s not your thing- thanks for reading!’ There is a drawing of a figure with dark grey wings holding up two fingers. Next is a ‘<2’ heart and ‘elliot’ as a signature. In smaller text next to these is ‘Thank you to the creators whose work is featured in this zine! Credit on the next page. Remember to keep this wonderful community and artform accessible to all!’

Page 8: ‘Credit’: This section has a pride flag next to each label. ‘Aromantic-spectum, @ theflagarchive on Tumblr. Turian, @ kenochoric on Tumblr. Schooldoodlic, @ spirits-gender-coining on Tumblr. Xenoman, @ ryanyflags on Tumblr. MOGAI symbol, Pride-Flags on DeviantArt. Alterhuman, @ vaestra on Tumblr. (the flag on pg. 4 is Wildflowergender). ‘About making this zine’: ‘I really, really regret handwriting this. Drawing over Helvetica Neue for so long might change my actual handwriting, [more rough:] which looks like this! According to Artstudio Pro, I took 14 hours! I barely planned this before starting, the color wheel theme and the people doodles. /End ID]

[alllgator-blood]

I have ten billion WIP sketches I need to finish, but for some reason I stayed up from 9 PM to 4 AM conceptualizing, making patterns, sewing, painting and applying makeup on this stupid fucking felt squid......the detailing needs to be cleaned up cause there's only one coat of paint so far, but he's pretty much done

my neighbors probably think I'm insane because I was running around the yard clenching this toy kallamar in a death grip and flying him around like an airplane/putting him in the barbecue/poking him with a stick. I want to tie him to a string and recreate the opening of napoleon dynamite >:) ALSO I MADE HIM SMOKE OUT OF A STUPID CRYSTAL PIPE BUT PLEASE DON'T ACTUALLY USE THOSE, THEY ARE SUPER TOXIC LMAO MINE IS FOR DECORATION

I don't have any process pics because I had tunnel vision autism style and forgot the rest of the universe existed while I was working on him. BUT if you're curious I'll ramble below the cut

Okay I am not a seamstress by any means. I've sewn my entire life but very, very infrequently. I've done plushies, clothes, cosplays, fursuits, accessories, etc. but I only do one like once a year, so while I planned to make all 5 bishops, I'm not really sure I'll get them all done. The material cost was like 20 bucks tops so I'm not too upset if I don't finish them. I AT LEAST WANT TO GET SHAMURA OR HEKET DONE.

here is the concept sketch ft. heket's toes and shamura's fingers. I decided to do his pre-schism version so I could fit him with jewelry! I did him first because like I said I sew infrequently and don't know wtf I'm doing, everyone else seemed a lot more complicated.

So I basically just traced this drawing on a printer paper-sized canvas in SAI, and guesstimated how everything would look in a 3D space. His head is four pieces, one triangle identical to the one in the picture, two wide triangles that are sewn together in the back, and a circle for his chin. You can't really see it in any of the pics but he's literally like a black cylindrical stick with little tentacles sewn on where his mantle connects to his cloak. The leg tentacles are one piece of felt that look like tassels, where they're connected by a rectangle but branch off into individual pieces. He can't stand up very well, so his cape keeps him up (that's gonna be an issue for every other bishop too except heket cause she's gonna be ROUND). Mostly everything like the crown, cloak, head, etc. are cones so I just had to make a lot of wide triangles.

For the details, I just used acrylic paint that was watered down so he's not especially crunchy, and for the blush tone I used a makeup palette my mom bought me 10 years ago in hopes I'd get in touch with my "feminine side", but I grew up into a nonbinary butch lesbian so OOPS. Kallamar looks better with makeup than me anyway. I'm kinda sad I couldn't get his freckles as lopsided as I draw them but it probably looks better in plush form to have them even anyway....

I could just post the pattern so I don't have to explain this but 1. I am mentally ill about the thought of my kallamar being in someone else's house and 2. the original pattern had to be tweaked while I was working on him so the final pattern straight up doesn't exist, I winged it the whole time

OH and the jewelry is just scrap pieces I had laying around, I might repaint it all to be gold instead of silver + bronze. I used 20g aluminum wire for his armlet thing, jumper rings for his earrings + ring (+ a diamond dot from my mom's kits for the gem) and chain for the bracelet. I made him an amulet as well but it felt like overkill so I took it off. I'm probably gonna make him a plague doctor mask and medicine bag sometime because I think about nurse kallamar more than I probably should :') I've already sewn one as a prop for a toy raven before so it shouldn't be too hard

[jazziejax]

𝐀𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐌𝐬.𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥

Pairings- Black!OC x Abbott Elementary Cast, later Black!OC x Manny (Can be read as x Reader though!)

Summary- Pilot Episode Experience with Naoya Lovel

Warnings- Swearing, kids, mixed race reader( those aren’t warnings really, just what to expect)

Jazzie’sNotes!- let me know what you guys think!! I’ve been really obsessed with Abbott Elementary recently and I’m contemplating if I want to write S1&S2 just to get to the Manny season. I want to get there fast but I know what won’t be possible with two seasons worth of writing. Let me know what you guys think I should do.

Word Count- 6,358

“Okay, so you wouldn't put the number on the bottom because that's what?” The older woman asked, drawing out her words as she stood in front of her fourth-grade class, pointing at the whiteboard behind her with her yardstick.

“The denominator.” The class answered.

“Correct, and what do we call the one on top?”

“The numerator.”

“Yes! You guys are killing this lesson.” She smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. She caught the camera crew in the corner of her eyes and then turned to them. “Or should I say I’m killing this lesson?” She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she posed. It was silent for a moment as they all watched her just smile.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” She’s asked, looking at one of the guys behind the camera. He nodded, moving the camera along with him, causing her to smile and adjust her glasses. “Why, thank you.”

“Hello! My name is Naoya Lovel. Pronounced Now-Ya, it’s Japanese because I’m half Japanese. Don’t ask why I’m half Japanese in Philly, it’s a long story.” She sighed as she shook her head.

“Well, actually, let me tell you the story because it’s actually kind of crazy.” She chuckled, starting to explain, but it then cut to another clip of her in the class.

“Ms.Lovel, we ran out of paper towels.” A student said, standing in front of her desk with paint on the palms of his hands. Noaya looked up, at him, a slight frown on her face. “Ohh, okay, well I have some in my desk.” She started, pulling open her desk drawer. The camera angled down to catch the empty towel box staring back at her. She smirked up at them awkwardly and shrugged her shoulders. “What, I have a constant runny nose.”

“As a teacher, you teach kids how to solve problems while solving your own. In your personal life and at school. And in this school, there are a lot.”

“Ms.Lovel, I need paper towels too.” Another student said, showing her blue and pink palms to her teacher. Noaya then stood from her seat, looking around her room. “Okay, okay class. Give me one sec.” She said, nervously looking around her room to solve her paper towel problem. She the. Saw a stray beach towel near the window on her small bookshelf. “Oh! Here we are, guys.” She said, rushing over to the towel and snatching it up.

“This could be a lesson too.” She smiled excitedly and grabbed a pair of large scissors from her desk. “I probably shouldn’t have these just sitting out.” She mumbled to herself, giving the camera a sideways glance. “So class, this is going to be a hands-on moment. If there are almost thirty of you, how many pieces would I need to cut this into for you guys to share?” She asked, looking at all of them. There was a moment before anyone said anything, the kids thinking over their answer. Then, some of their hands shot up. Naoya flashed the cameras behind her a quick smile before turning back to the kids.

“Noaya, Jacob, and I came in last year with 20 other teachers. We’re three of the four left so…trauma bonding, I guess?” Janine said, in regards to the other girl.

“Yeah, I taught for two years before I got here, I transferred from Addington to here because those people are a bunch of stuck-up freaks who are just in it for a little extra on their check.” She said with a smirk. “And that’s not what I’m here for, I’m here to change lives.” She boated, folding her arms.



“Hey, Melissa, can you please tell “Ta-Nehisi Quotes” here that “white boy” is a term of endearment from the corner store people?” Janie said as she walked into the break room on the second floor.

“Ooh, cheese steaks?” Naoya questioned as she looked up from her papers, knowing the full situation after only hearing the words ‘white boy’ and ‘corner store’.”

“For Zach Ertz, yeah.” Melissa started, turning around with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “For him. It’s an insult.” She smirked, then paused at the sight of the cameras in her face.

“Well, you guys, I need a new rug. Mine is officially done.” Janie said.” Coming take a seat right next to the working woman.

“Mhmm! Me too.” Jacob started, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I shook mine out and all the asthma kids had to go to the nurse's office.” This conversation caused her to raise her head, placing her work aside and adjusting her glasses as she listened.

“Yeah, mine’s busted.” Melissa started. “And you can’t class up a rug like you can a couch with a nice coat of plastic.”

“You guys have rugs? All we have is a little mat.” Naoya started, looking between all of them. They all cringed at her words, but couldn’t say more before someone’s loud voice cut through the air.

“Hey-yo! What it does, baby-boo?” Ava yelled as she walked into the break room and over to where they were sitting. “What yall think about this little film crew I bought in here.”

“Distracting makes our jobs harder,” Melissa said disinterestedly, shooting the crew a glare.

“I wish I would have known this was going to be a video thing, I would have made myself look better,” Naoya mumbled, causing the camera to turn her way. She smiled, making her face appear happier than usual.

“But exciting. We about to be on TV.” Ava said, looking between them all.

“Because they are covering underfunded, loosely managed, public schools in America.” Barbra interrupted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No press is bad press, Barb.” Ava practically disregarded the woman’s claim, continuing to smile at the camera. “Look at Mel Gibson. Still thriving.” She laughed. “ “Daddy’s Home 2”? Hilarious!” She looked around the room, either expecting people to laugh with or or just so confined in her large ego that she didn’t care if they laughed or not.

“Ava’s the worst person I know,” Noaya stated. “I’ve never seen her show an ounce of care about anything other than money. Which is a terrible mindset to have as a principal because you’re literally in the brokeest position of power.”

“There you are.” Ms.Schwartz sighed as she rushed into the room, spotting Ava. “Ava, can I talk to you?” The woman was out of breath as she stood before the principal, and her attire was disheveled. “I-I need an aid. I’m outnumbered there. The kids are crazy.” She ranted this wild look in her eyes. “One of the kids told me to ‘mind my six’ this morning, I don’t know what that means! I need help!” She ranted. Ava placed and hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down.” The darker woman said, cutting Ms. Schwartz off. “They’re just kids. And, besides, aids cost money, and we don’t have that.” She said before flashing a quick smile at the cameras. “Right, but I just—” Ms. Schwartz started again.

“Do you want to split your salary with somebody else?” Ava asked, leaning closer and angling both of them away from the cameras.

“No.” The other woman said dejected.

“No!” Ava cut her off before she could continue to rant. “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Well, if we can’t get aides, maybe we can get new rugs?” Janine chimed up, standing from her seat.

“All I’m hearing is “new, new, new, need, need, need,” Ava answered. “And yet, Barb, one of our best and most senior teachers here.” She continued, walking over to the older woman who sat at the table with Melissa and drank her coffee. “She never complains. What is your secret, Barb?”

“Knowing there’s not much you can do, Ava.” The woman said with a sarcastic smile. But Ava didn’t care to hear her condescending tone.

“So understanding.” The principal smiled, looking around the room. “Be like Ms.Howard, people.” That was all she said before she left the room.

Noaya shook her head as she started to collect her things, knowing the bell would be ringing anytime soon.

“But, I’m not Ms.Howard.” Ms.Schwartz cried from where she stood.

“Ohh, Tina, look.” Janine started, walking over to the stressed woman. “Try some counting exercises, between one and forty the kids start to quiet down.” The other woman gave a slight nod before she exited the room, still in obvious distress. “You, know, a little support might help make things happen, ladies,” Janie said, turning around to face the older two women in the room.

“My support was gonna do about as much as that five-year-old bra you’ve got on right there,” Barbra said as she pushed in her chair. The camera then cuts to Naoya staring at the camera, her jaw clenched. Janine looked down at her chest for a slip second, before covering it up with her sweater and deciding to ignore the woman’s bra statement. “Hey, it’s not impossible to get things. Melissa asked for those new toy cash registers for her classroom and got them.”

“Yeah, those aren’t toys.” The Italian woman stared as she put on her coat. “I know a guy who wired a Walmart demolition. I got a guy for everything. I know a guy right now working on the stadium build. Need rebar?” She asked, looking around the room.

Noya just shook her head.

“No,” Janine answered.

“Melissa is resourceful, capable.” Ms. Howard started, looking between all the younger teachers. Naoya’shead jerked back at what she was insinuating but before she could say anything, Janine placed a hand on her shoulder and started talking.

“Well, I think the younger teachers are capable.”

“Really? Then why is it that Ms.Schwartz’s hair is falling out? Why does Jacob here need a smoking break every five minutes?” The woman sassed, gesturing over to the male beside her.

“I switched to an herbal vape.” He tried to defend himself.

“And why can’t any of you stick it out longer than two years? More turnovers than a bakery.” She hissed before her and Melissa walked out of the door. Once it shut behind them, Naoya turned to her friends beside her.

“I almost lose my job every day dealing with the people here.” She shook her head, resting her butt on the table behind her, the other two following suit.

“You know what? Hell, I think we should still try for rugs.” Jacob’s said.

“Yeah.” Janine agreed.

“You know, before I taught here, I was in Zimbabwe.” Jacob started, causing Noaya to stand up completely and begin to walk to the door. “I was going Teachers Without Boarders, and what I learned—.”

“Jacob.” Noaya cut in, turning to face the two of them. “What did we say you about, like, not talking about your time in Africa?” She said, gesturing between her and Janine. The boy stuttered, trying to come up with an appropriate answer.

“We told you to stop. Yeah, it’s weird.” Janine finished, looking over at the male.

“I have an immense amount of respect for my elders, including the ones I work with.” Naoya smiled at the cameras. “But Mrs.Howard has a smart mouth on her. A mouth that has never been directed at me.” She continued to smile, although strained, and raised her hands in mock defense. “But the day it is the day I got to prison.” And although she was finished, she was cut off by the sound of quick hurried footsteps making their way around the corner. She turned around just in time to catch Janine with a student.

“Noaya, come quick, there’s a fight.” The older woman got out as best as she could, although out of breath. Naoya ran around the corner, practically leaving the child and shirt woman in the dust.

“Damn, she’s fast,” Janine said, briefing glancing at the kids next to her before rushing to follow the running woman.

“What the hell is going on here?” Naoya yelled as she entered the hectic scene with a bat in her hands. She saw the crazed look the teachers were giving her and she shrugged. “I heard there was a fight, I brought it just in case.”

“Where did you get that? I was right behind you.” Janie asked, out of breath with her hands on her knees.

“I didn’t know she had it in her like that.” Melissa nodded a proud smirk on her lips. “I like her.”

“That’s beside the point, what happened?” Naoya asked, looking at the older white woman standing in front of a child. “He hit me first!” Ms.Schwartz said, pointing at the boy across from her.

“Liar!” The boy yelled back at her, being held back by Ms.Howard.

“I’m a liar? I'M A LIAR?” Ms.Schwartz asked a crazed look in her eyes, her gaze solely trained on the little boy.

“I can’t believe she hit a kid,” Noaya said, shock written all over her face as she folded her arms. “I mean, I threaten that I will but I never actually do it.” She shrugged.

“Okay!” Ava yelled, interrupting the conversation between the small group of teachers. “So, not good. Ms.Schwartz was out of line and clearly didn’t know how to handle her class.” The woman sighed.

“You hired her.” Melissa spat back.

“And fired her,” Ava responded. “They give me a lot of power around here. It’s crazy.” The woman smirked.

Melissa and Noaya both gave the camera a look of disbelief.

“In the meantime, Mr.Johnson will be watching her class.” Ava finished.

“Mr.Johnson the janitor?” Naoya spoke up. “Our conspiracy theorist janitor? Teaching social studies? Do we not see the problem with this?” She asked, looking around at the group.

“I think maybe we should alert the school district to this,” Jacob spoke up, getting spins of approval from the rest. “I mean, a child was harmed.” He tried to finish before Ava cut in.

“Hey! Harmed?” She questioned. “I handled this. No need to let them know that a child was harmed on my wa—” She stopped, remembering that she was being recorded, and looked towards the camera. “On the school's watch, to be clear.” She clarified.

“Ava, this is not handled,” Janine spoke up. “There is a 70-year-old custodian who voted for Kanye teaching social studies right now.” The woman stressed, pointing down the hall. “We need help. Look, I know we don’t have any money—“

“Okay!” Ava cut her off. “Alright. I’ll make a small emergency budget request to the district, and then you guys can get pencils and hire aides or whatever else you need.”

“So, even rugs?” Janine asked her entire demeanor from earlier changing at the woman’s words.

“Sure! Just email a request.” Ava replied.

“Okay! I can- I can write an email.” Janine smiled excitedly.”

“Another day in principal life.” Ava smiled at the cameras before walking away, horribly singing some old song. “I believe the children are our future.”

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“Um…Hello?” An unfamiliar voice called out as she came into the school building, making their way to stand in front of the desk. “I’m looking for Ms.Coleman.” The man said. Melissa looked up at him. “Oh, yeah she’s—“ She was cut off by Ava rushing up next to her.

“Hello.” Again said flirtatiously, looking the man up and down.

“Hi, I’m Gregory Eddie. I’m the sun for the teacher who, uh…” He trailed off, looking down at the papers he pulled from his briefcase. “Pinter a student.” The man said worriedly, looking back up at her.

“Oh! You’re the sub.” Ava said. “Forgive me, I thought one of my colleagues here hired a stripper for me.” Ava laughed off, dismissing the looks Melissa and Barbra gave her. “Okay.” That was all Gregory could say to that, giving the woman obvious judgmental looks.

“Nice to meet you, young man.” Barbra offered him a kind smile.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, Ryan,” Melissa said, staring at the together papers.

“It’s Gregory.”

“Eh, let’s see how long you’ll be here.” She said, only flexing up after she was done stapling. “Then I’ll remember your name. Okay, Tim?”

Gregory didn’t even have time to fully digest the interactions he just had with the women before him before Jacob came around the corner. “Yes!” He smiled, stalking up to the man. “My dude.” He said, arms open for some sort of hug but was cut short by Gregory putting his hand out. “Oh, yeah,” Jacob said, placing his hand on the one offered out to him. “Keeping it profesh. I like that.” He smiled, leaning against the counter. “I’m Jacob. It’s nice to see another male teacher in here. It’s not a lot of us. Hey, now I got somebody to talk sports with. You like women’s tennis?” The paler man asked, before shooting the camera a sideways glance. “Or, as I call it, you know, regular tennis.”

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Naoya was walking the halls, whistling a tune with her bad over her shoulders when she came across a tall, good-looking man in a gray sweater. Hearing her, the man turned around to see a tall, light-skinned woman with a large, light brown puff ponytail at the back of her head. She had on specs that covered most of her face, enlarging her eyes. She was dressed in a slightly baggy pair of dark wash denim jeans with brown shoes that matched the brown in her green sweater, paired with a white shirt underneath. Seeing the mysterious man, she furrowed her brows at him from down the hall.

“Uh, hello.” The man waved awkwardly from down the hall.

Naoya waved back as she made her way closer to the man. “Uh, hi. Are you lost?” She asked, slowing down when she got in front of him. “In a school building?…And smelling like pee and/or vomit. I’m calling security.” She started to back up and pull out her phone, or even yell before she stopped and frowned. “Oh wait, I am security.” She said, moving her bat to her good hand getting ready to swing.

“Wait!” The man yelled, sticking out his hands in defense. “I’m a sub! I’m here to fill in for the woman who kicked the kid.” He defended.

Naoya visibly relaxed as she looked the man up and down, taking in his formal attire. “Okay.” She said, dropping her defensive pose. “That still doesn’t explain the smell.” She said, giving the man a disgusted once over. Gregory stuttered to get an answer, embarrassed by the cameras and such an awkward situation in front of another beautiful woman.

“It’s a long story. A broken toilet, a student wet his pants, another one threw up.” The man shrugged, a look of disgust crossing his face as he thought it all over. At his words, Noaya nodded with a look of understanding.

“No, yeah. I get it. Well, um, congratulations on being here considering…” She trailed off, gesturing around the school and then to him. “If you need anything at all, I’m at the very end of the hall. I'm Naoya Lovel, and I teach fourth grade. I’ll be here to help any way I can, I am known for having everything anyone might ever need, so.” She shrugged and began walking away, pat him, and to her class. The man nodded, a sliver of a smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on the spot she just left. Catching the camera out of the corner of his eye, she quickly straightened up and then turned the opposite way to face her. “May I ask why you’re carrying a bat?” He asked.

Naoya stopped walking, the bad still in her hand as she angled her body slightly to look back at him. “No, you may not.” She said with a smile before continuing to walk away and into her classroom. Gregory just nodded and walked into his room as well.

“Today was utterly disgusting, but she and Janine seem nice.” He smiled slightly.

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“I got a good feeling about this,” Jacob smirked at Naoya and Janine as they and the rest of the teachers gathered outside at the entrance of the school. It had something to do with Ava needing them to see the improvements she made to the school. “Right? Me too!” Janine said excitedly. Naoya rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets due to the cold weather.

“I wish I could live in the blissful ignorance you guys call optimism.” She said, looking between her two friends. They only rolled their eyes at the girl, who was usually a pessimistic person, so they didn’t take her words too seriously.

“Good morning!” Ava said to all the teachers before her, who were obviously in no good mood. “Good Morning!” Janine was the only one to respond.

“Gregory.” Ava finished, giving the man a look. Noaya furrowed her brows slightly, throwing the man a sideways glance.

“The district was so moved by my plea that they approved the emergency budget and sent us the money right away,” Ava said to the group. The crowd started clapping, Jacob and Janine were genuinely happy while most were in shock that the district pulled through.

“Okay, we could have hired aides, we could have got rugs.” Ava continued as the clapping died down. “But then I thought, “No. We need something more immediate.” She said, her words causing Naoya to nod her head as she began slowly making her way away from the group. She knew this wasn’t going to end well, and this was her stopping herself from throwing her loafers at Ava’s head.

“Oh, no, no. The rugs are immediate.” Janie spoke up. “They’re like instant Xanax for kids. I explained it all in my email.” She told the group as she made her way to extract her phone from her purse.

“Girl, who told you to send an email?” Ava asked, looking down the steps at the shorter woman. Jannie stopped what she was doing and glared at Ava. “You did.” She hissed, looking at her confused.

“Anyways, I always feel better when I get my hair done.” Ava continued, not caring for what Janine had to say, as she showed off her new blonde number. “Thus, I do better work, like I’m doing now.” She smiled at them. “You know, fix the outside, the inside takes care of itself.” She then gestured up to the giant tarp over the building, the man pulling it down to show a sign.

It was a giant Willard R. Abbott Elementary sign with Ava on it, leaning onto the letters. The teachers just stood there and looked up at the sign, no words were said between any of them. But they all had the same thought.

What the fuck?

“Yall seeing this?” Ava asked, copying her pose that was on the sign.

“A plastic sign?” Janine asked, looking between the woman and the sign.

“Thank God for the school district, because they gave us $3,000 and I had to spend all of it.” Ava said as if she didn’t care about the severity of the words she just said.

“You spent all of the money on this?!” Janie asked in disbelief.

“Rush job, can you believe this quality?” The terrible principal continued.

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“This is fucking ridiculous, she has gone too far,” Naoya said as she, Jacob, Janine, and Gregory rushed back into the school.

“Somebody needs to do something before I get my bat back out. Actually, Forget the bat, I’m gonna go get a gu—.”

“Okay! Yes.” Jacob cut her off, trying to ignore the scared look Noaya received from Janine and Gregory, while she just continued to sit in her anger, not even seeing them. “Somebody, anybody but you, should do something.” The man said to the angry woman.

“You know what. I’m gonna do something.” Janine said, as stored up and Naoya. Well, maybe not as much but still fired up.

“Okay, alright. Whatever you do, I will co-sign it.” Jacob encouraged. “Yes!” Janine said. “That is how change works. Someone does something and somebody co-signs it.” He finished.

“I want Jannie to succeed in what her plan is because Ava needs to be out in her place, “professionally”, or whatever Jacob said,” Naoya stated, rolling her eyes. “But I also want her to prove something to Barb. For her sake. Because Janine really needs a mother figure in her life and the constant groveling for Barb’s praise is starting to make me want to choke.” She finished with a shrug. “That’s my girl though, I love her.”

“Hey, you two, wait up! I’m going out to lunch too.” Janie called out to Melissa and Bard as they walked down the hall. The camera caught Naoya, who rolled her eyes at the situation she was just talking about making an appearance as she walked after Janine.

“Oh yeah, where are you going for lunch pip-squeak? Bird feeder?” Melissa joked, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“Thought you’d be working on your next miracle from Saint Ava.” Barbra pushed.

“Ha ha, No.” The shorter woman defended herself. “I don’t think I’ll need anything from Ava ever again.” Janine smiled, her words causing the other three women to look confused.

“What does that mean?” Naoya chimed in from behind them, ready to go out for lunch as well.

“Well, I emailed the superintendent and told him everything Ava has done today. No way she doesn’t get fired.” Janie bragged.

“Oh, for the lives of God.” Melissa groaned.

“Janine,” Noaya said in disappointment. “This is why I told you to tell me.”

“What?” She asked, looking between the three women.

“The superintendent never sees our emails,” Barbra told her. “He has them bounced back to the person in charge of where they came from.”

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Janie stared. “Person in charge? That means the emails go back to…” She trailed off, the dots connecting. Just in time for said person to come in the intercom with an announcement.

“Teachers, it’s come to my attention that some of you—one of you—.” Ava clarified, looking through the glass of her office at the group of women standing at the door, her eyes trained on one in particular. “Think it’s okay to go over my head. So, during lunch break—this lunch break—we’ll be having a trait workshop so that we can learn how to become a woke family.” The woman was clearly pissed off, glaring at Janine from where she sat. “It’s gonna be fun!”

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“We are at a crossroads, this is a crisis,” Ava stressed as she stood before the hired group of teachers.

“No, a crisis is eating the cafeteria pizza for lunch.” Naoya chimed in from where she sat in the back.

“Uh, why are we here, exactly?” Gregory asked his seat right in front of hers.

“Well, chocolate drop.” Ava started, causing Naoya to snicker at the name. “I learned that someone here doesn’t respect me. But it’s not about me. Because if you don’t respect me, how can you respect this school?” She continued, causing them all to look at her confused as such a stupid correlation. But, it looks like Ava took that as a look of confusion due to her question.

“You can’t. It’s mathematically impossible.” She finished.

“W-Whoa. Who doesn’t respect you, Ava—I mean, the school?” Jacob asked.

“Me,” Naoya said but seemed to be completely ignored.

“It’s not important. We’re gonna make this a group matter so as too not to single any one person out.” The woman answered him. “Let’s try an excuse where we say whatever we want out loud to each other, no matter how critical. It’ll be fun, let’s start with Janine.” She said, looking over at the short woman who was practically shrinking in on herself.

“Janine?” She asked, smirking evilly.

“Yes?” Janine asked dejectedly, knowing that this whole situation was her fault and knowing that Ava did the exact thing she said she didn’t want to. Single her out.

“You’re pushy, squeaky and annoying,” Ava stated.

Collective disagreement was heated around the room.

“Excuse me?” Melissa piped up.

“Thaya just…” Gregory said.

“When is it my turn?” Naoya asked, starting to take her earring out of her ear.

“No, it’s not bad. No.” Ava defended. “We’re shaking to make us all better. Constructive. Hershey kiss, why don’t you try, start with Janine.” She pushed.

“I don’t want to.” The man sighed.

“You’re right, it should be someone who knows her better. Noaya, Jacob, Barbra?” She asked, looking between the two.

“When is it your turn? I wanna go when it’s your turn.” Naoya stated, folding her arms to keep herself at bay. Gregory glanced back, seeing the look of pure hatred on her face.

“Well, her hair is—“ Jacob started before getting cut off.

“Not!” Noaya and Barba said at the same time, the younger more so talking to her friend next to Janine, who gave the man next to her a look of disbelief.

“Ava, no one’s doing this to anyone.” Melissa started, looking at the woman before her.

“Hold on, I came prepared for this. Sheena, come on in.” Ava said, looking behind her to a student who was sitting behind the library desk.

“Ava, that is my student, she should be at lunch right now,” Janine complained, as everyone in the room looked at the little girl, trying to see what Ava's plan was.

“I am kinda hungry.” The little girl sighed, begrudgingly walking closer to the woman.

“Sheena, remember what we talked about? What was the thing that you wished was different about Ms.Teagues?” Ava asked the little girl. She just stood there, not knowing what to say as the whole room waited on her.

“She got some big feet.” Mr.Johnson chimed in from the very back of the children’s library where he was sweeping.

“Okay.” Janine sighed before standing from her seat. “Everyone, that’s enough. I am the person who disrespected Ava. I emailed the superintendent to tell him that she spent the school's money on a sign.”

“And got her hair done,” Naoya said, Janine, gesturing over to her in agreement.

“I’m sorry, Ava.” She continued. “And I’m sorry everyone missed lunch, especially you, Sheena. But I didn’t it because I care about the kids in this school, and that shouldn’t be a bad thing.” She ranted. “I—Okay. You know what.” She sighed, done talking. She felt as if no one was listening anyway and just wanted to leave. She was on her way out before turning back around. “Sheena, you should have this. I’m sorry.” She said, handing the school pizza over to the girl.

“Uh, no thank you.” The girl said, shaking her head. Janine just sighed again and turned to leave.

Ava chuckled as she watched the girl walk off, shaking her head. “Not a compelling speaker.” She smirked as she shook her head. “Charisma vacuum, am I right?”

Noaya cracked her neck as she stood up. The teachers in front of her filmed a little at the sound and her sudden movements. But she ignored that. “You know what, Ava? I was going to whoop your ass in the parking lot, and as much satisfaction as that would bring me, I don’t want to lose my job. Because I care about these kids. Just like Janine. And she may be a lot of things, like naive, a bit clingy and too cheerful—.”

“Ooh, this is good stuff, let me call her back in here,” Ava smirked as if she didn’t hear the first part of the girls’ speech.

“But she is also right.” Barba cut in, standing up with Naoya. “You know, actually wanting to help the children at this school shouldn’t be a bag thing.” The older woman finished for her. Afterwards, both her and Naoya walked out, letting Ava sit with their words.

They walked out to find the girl in front of her classroom, looking through the window. “Janine, ignore Ava. Big feet are a sign of fertility.” Barbra stated.

“I’m telling you to just give me the signal, I can have her framed for mur—something.” The light skinned girl said, catching herself in front of the cameras.

“Every lunch period, guys.” Was all Janine said before stepping out of their way to show the inside of her class. They both looked in seeing a little boy napping on his jacket, as the library door sounded again. “Every single one, Amir comes and naps in the rug.” She said, informing the whole group as Melissa, Jacob and Gregory joined.

“Mm-hmm. He was in my class.” Barbra said with a fond smile on her face. Mom’s got a lot of kids. Dad’s not around and when she is, the parents fight.”

“Right, so he doesn’t get much sleep. I told him to sleep at his desk, but she says that rug is softer—.” The shirt woman paused, trying to get emotional over the whole situation. “Softer than his bed at home.” There was a moment of silence as all the adults sat with her words. It’s hard hearing about the life of the kids you see everyday, knowing they live lives no one should. And knowing it’s on you to create a better life for them at school.

“You know what? I don’t care I you think I’m good at this or not anymore. I care about whether or not I can make a change.” Janine told Barbra as sternly as she could, which wasn’t a lot.

“Janine.” The woman started. “Teachers at a school like Abbott— we have to be able to do it all. We are admin, we are social workers, we are therapists, we are second parents. Hell, sometimes we’re even first.”

“Mm-hmm.” Melissa agreed.

“Why?” Barbra continued. “It sure ain’t the money.”

“Yup. I can make more working the street, easy.” Melissa chimed in. Causing Jacob and Naoya to look at each other in concern.

“Prostitution?” She mouthed over to the man, who shrugged.

“Look, we do this ‘cause we’re supposed to.” Melissa said to Janine. “It’s a calling. You answered.”

They all looked at eachother fondly, before Jacob started.

“I believe it was Brother Cornel West—“

“No.”

“Don’t.”

“Not right now, white boy.”

They all told him, causing the man to retreat back to his corner.

“You want to know my secret?” Barbra asked, ringing the subject back to where it was. “Do everything you can for your kids.” She smiled. “We’ll help. Hey, I suggest we put our money together and buy Janine the rug.” The older woman encouraged. “What yall think?”

“Absolutely.” Melissa said, pulling out her wallet.

“Guys, you can’t.” Janine started, looking between them. “You don’t have it. I know because I have the same salary as you and I overdrafted on a doughnut hole this morning.”

“Don’t tell me how much money I have.” Noaya stated, holding her hand out as a halt to the girl's words. “I do not claim that broke energy.”

“Well, why are you gonna do?” Barbra asked. “Steal a rug?”

“Not me, but I know a guy who knows a guy?” Janie trailed off, looking between Noaya and Melissa. The light skinned girl raised her hands. “I don’t know a cute guy that can steal that many carpets that fast.” She shrugged, a hopeless look on her face as she glanced at Melissa.

“Way ahead of you.” The woman said as she started typing into her phone. “I’m gonna have to bake a ziti.” She said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Tony, ya big strung, listen, you still working that stabiuk build?” She said into the device as she walked away from the group.

Sometime later, a guys pulled up in a truck around back with a bunch of rugs for them. They all celebrated, going one by one to grab a rug. “Yay! I finally have one! My room was so depressing.” Naoya said as she waked down the hall with her rug.

“You’re on a mission.” Gregory stated, looking at the shorter girl in between him and Noaya. “It’s cool to see.”

“Thank you. Just a day in the life of being a teacher here. You get used to it.” Janine smiled.

“And that smell in the walls?” He asked, pointing.

“Oh no, you’re never gonna get used to that. Sometimes I wish I had a bad nose like Naoya.” She joked, elbowing the girl next to her. The taller woman lightly groaned. “Janine, you know that’s a big insecurity of mine. I have a fear of smelling bad.” The half Japanese girl tried to clarify to the male. “You’re subbing to go full time right?” She asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Um, we’ll see.” He said as they all briefly stopped in the hallway. “This job definitely surprises me.”

“Well, I hope you stay.” Janine said. “For the kids.” She clarified. Naoya shot a quick glacé to the camera, a small smirk on her face. She then decided to walk away. The camera caught Gregory’s eyes jumping from both women walking away, a small smile on his face. He then looked in the camera and dropped his expression.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” He said. “You know, for the kids.”

“Look guys!” Naoya said as she rolled out her shakes rug for her students. They all celebrated, clapping excitedly at the fact that they had a rug now.

“Ms.Lovel, I hate the egales.” One student said, standing next to the woman.

“Yeah, me too, kid. But don’t tell anyone I said that.” She said, patting the top of their head as Ava walked past her door. She paused at the sight of the rugs. Naoya placed her hands on her hips and cocked her neck, making Ava glare at the woman for a quick second before walking away.

“And that kids, is how you get rid of the enemy without fighting.” She said, pointing around the room to make sure they were watching. “Now that we have a rug, let’s watch that nature documentary!” She said excitedly, causing all the students to yell with excitement well.

[fortunekookie07]

Ashfierce posted a dating him photo series for each of the boys and I was inspired by one of Rafayel's chosen pics. I ended up using all of them as inspiration. I present to you:

A Stupid Kind of Wonderful

Dating Rafayel was an experience in itself. If you thought about it rationaly, he was kind of (a lot) selfish. He was also arrogant, and sometimes you just wanted to punch him in his stupid, pretty face (that you love). He was complex, his heart was carefully guarded and hidden away under his brash, haughty personality.

He was talented, one of the best artists to appear in a millennium. Every art piece he created was highly sought after. Each collector wanting to add a one of a kind creation to their collection.

You were often giddy that, rather than his paintings, you had the best thing of all. Rafayel himself, he'd given his heart to you freely. It hadn't taken much effort for him to shed the persona he presented to the rest of the world and show his true self. But only to you, only for you.

He'd told you many times before that a Lemurian mated only once, for life, every life they lived would only be for that one person. You had not been able to get it out of him just how many times he'd been reborn, but you could tell he was an old soul deep down. Sometimes, the way he spoke when he was serious was like he was ancient. Like he'd seen all the world had to offer many times over, and you were the only thing he ever wanted or needed.

Then there were times like tonight where you were convinced that your lover was actually a five year old, or had once been a cat.

You'd gone looking for him to tell him that dinner was ready, still holding the spoon You'd been using to stir with. Upon opening the bedroom door, you dropped the spoon as both hands fell to your sides like dead weights.

There was Rafayel (a fully grown man of 24 years) playing in a box. He'd cut four holes in the sides and was down on all fours, on top of the bed like some kind of freakish animal or a mutated insect.

"W-w-what are you doing?" You managed to gasp out voice high and squeaky at the end of your sentence. The box flaps popped open as he stuck his head out. Styrofoam peanuts statically stuck to his hair and pointing every which way. Upon seeing his deer in the headlights expression and just how ridiculous he looked, you doubled over in laughter. Gasping for air as you sank to your knees. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you laughed hysterically.

Rustling and fumbling on the bed had you looking up just in time to see him practically teleport out of the box sending peanuts everywhere. They were stuck to his clothes and hair, and his sheepish expression sent you into a new fit of giggles.

"R-Rafay-el what we-re y-you doing"?!? You ask in between laughs. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like he'd just wanted to play in the box, as he scratched the side of his face and brushed peanuts out of his hair.

He offers you his hand, and you take it. He pulls you up and into his embrace. Holding you tightly for a moment and rocking you side to side. "I missed you when you were gone." He burries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and placing little kisses there.

A rumbling sound interupts your sweet little moment, and you look at him with a knowing smile. "You've forgotten to eat again, haven't you?" You say knowing full well once he gets going on a painting nothing can distract him. Not even his body's demands for food. He nods unashamed, it's not like this is the first time he's done this. "I made that spicy seafood pasta you like." You say turning from the room and drawing him with you by his hand. He pauses only to grab your dropped spoon.

Per your usual routine for meals, Rafayel has already gone to the cabinets to grab bowls, spoons, and glasses. Whoever made dinner would serve and the other would grab dishes and clean up.

"Anything interesting happen at work?" Rafayel asks pouring tea into the cups and setting them on the table. You think for a moment. "Not really, I only had a couple missions today. Wanderer activity is at a low point right now. We're not getting sent out as much." He nodded and pulled your chair out as you walked over with the bowls.

You lean in and reach up on your toes to give him a quick kiss before sitting down and then setting his bowl on the table across from you. He pushes your chair in and then walks around to pull out and sit in his own chair.

Rafayel took every chance he could to do something for you, even if it was just something as small as pulling you chair out, opening doors for you, or just holding your hand. He never failed to show courtesy and care. It was just one of the many things he did to show his love. Each gesture warmed your heart. At first these things surprised you but as the days had turned to weeks, then months, and finally a year, they felt familiar and part of your routine.

Dinner conversation is light and cheery, rambling about this and that. Rafayel manages to throw in light complaints about how mean Thomas is because he won't approve a ridiculous expedition (that is mildly dangerous) to aquire a color source. Did you mention artists, Rafayel in particular, were eccentric?

Your phone screen lights up with a notification. Tara's profile picture pops in. She's tagged you in something and her caption reads, 'I Challenge You!' Intrigued you grab it and unlock your phone to the post. It's a couple photo challenge.

Her addition to the post says, Hey girl, I saw this and thought it'd be perfect for you! I did it with my bf, it was so much fun. I Challenge you!

Below that it says Couple Photo Challenge and then a list;

1. Strike a pose on a date: (matching outfits a must)

2. Sweet Hug

3. At the aquarium

4. Silly shenanigans

5. Hands only

6. Dance on the beach

7. Swing together

8. Playfight in the water

9. Inseparable

You can see that the post has been reblogged almost five thousand times and has just as many comments. Tara has posted her photo series and it's cute. You laugh looking at her pictures, seeing that for the silly photo she and her boy friend had drawn on their faces with what looks like whipped cream.

"Rafayel, look at this. I want to do it!" You say excitedly showing him the post. He looks it over and he smiles. He often took pictures for his art but he was rarely the subject in his photos. "If you want to." He says easily agreeing to your request.

An idea strikes you as you read over the list again and you look at him with a sweet smile "No," he says catching that look on your face. "But I didn't even say anything!" You protest and start pouting. "I know that look, no." He says pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"It's for the silly photo." You mumble slipping deeper into pout mode. Your bottom lip juts out as you go into full sulk mode, knowing Rafayel can't stand up against the pouty face. He tries to look anywhere but at you, getting squirmy as usual. "D-don't do that." He says trying to maintain his position on not doing whatever your idea was. You tilt your head down and then look up at him though your lashes, a killer move.

He squirms more and seconds tick by. Any moment now. You think grining triumphantly in your head. His ears are bright red. A tell tale sign he's about to break. "Ugh, ok fine. What is it?" Your grin is visible now. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" He mumbles with a sigh. "Let me take a pick of you in the box for our silly photo." You say as you get up and walk around the table. He's just pushed his chair back and you take the opportunity for further persuasion, and sit in his lap. Your hands hook behind his neck and his go to your hips automatically.

"No way, something else. Anything but that." He says not wanting everyone to see him playing in a box. "Aww come on. We'd have the best silly photo. No one could top it!" You knew Rafayel could be pretty (vary) competitive at times.

His face scrunched up and he looks over your shoulder instead. You grasp his cheeks and turn his head to face you. "Please?" You ask trying to coax him into it with little butterfly kisses on his face. "Ok, ok fine you win." He says finally and you squeal delighted. "You're the best!" You say giving him a bigger kiss. "Yeah, yeah whatever." He's frowning but you can tell his heart isn't behind it.

Over the next week and a half you and Rafayel drag Thomas all over the place to fulfill the requirements of each photo. He grumbles and complains about over time and how being your photographer isn't in his job description.

But as you look through all the possibilities, you decide that he did a great job. You pick out your favorites for each selection and show them to Rafayel.

"This one was a great idea", he says pointing at the one of the two of you at the gallery. The pose is silly, having you both standing with your legs apart and bodies tilted sideways towards each other. "Yeah, black was a great color choice. We really stand out against the background." You say sitting next to him on the couch.

"Oh, what do you think of this one? Thomas caught us mid twirl." You scroll to the beach dance one. The sun had started setting and there were dozens of little waves on the ocean behind you. "You like this one best too?" Rafayel says tucking you into his side as he pulls up the hug. You laugh and remember telling him to jump on you with a hug. "Yeah, it's so cute!" You giggle and scroll to the other ones.

"This one sure wasn't easy." You say pulling up the swing together category. "Yeah I still find it hard to believe we got up without falling." Somehow the two of you had gotten on one swing together. You're seated on his lap facing him and you'd even managed to actually swing. "The chains did dig into my thighs a bit though." You comment offhandedly.

"Thomas is a great shot, he managed to capture the pic just before I'd pulled you into the water." The playfight pictures were all silly. One of them had Rafayel picking you up and dunking you head first into the rushing waves on the beach. That was after you'd pulled him down into the water. "Let's do this one then." Rafayel agrees with your choice.

"Which categories are left?" He asks looking at the post on his phone as you scroll through the cameras memory.

"Uh, Inseparable, hands only, and at the aquarium." You say checking the ones that have been finalized. "Alright let's see." He takes the camera from you and goes to the next group of pictures. "I like this one, I think it's the best." The two of you are standing in front of the huge fish tank, back to the camera and leaning against eachother. You're pointing at one of the fish and his head is leaning against yours. "Yeah, ok that's the one then."

"Ooh let's do this one! It reminds me of the first pic we took together. Remember our first date and you wanted to stop by that photo booth? Haha you pouted so much when you realized I wasn't completing your hand heart and was just giving a thumbs up." You laugh as his pout is back again. "Yeah, yeah ok then. Inseparable is the last one."

This category had given you the most trouble. Trying to figure out what would best suit your idea of Inseparable. Rafayel had pointed it out easily. He always wanted to hug and touch you and you'd felt silly having tried to put so much thought into something that was very obvious to him.

"Let's go with the bear hug then." You agree looking at the choices. "Oog Tara is going to be so jealous, our pics are definitely the best! Everyone is going to love your box pic. It's so funny." You laugh at the pic again. One of two you had actually taken.

"Let's hurry and post it!" You jump up and drag Rafayel to the computer and hook up the camera to load the pictures.

You select the ones you wanted after they finish up loading and create the post and tag the original.

Couple Photo Challenge!! And then your series of pics. Just before posting you tag another member of Unicorns that you know is married.

Shortly after posting, the comments start rolling in. Tara is first. You laugh at her response and the huffy emoji she used. "I told you she was gonna be jealous!" You say leaning back into Rafayel and reading the comments. "A Stupid Kind of Wonderful." You mumble, looking at him and leaning in for a kiss.

****************************************************

I wanted to be extra nice to Rafayel because I've put him through the ringer with another story I posted and the emotional torture I'm about to give him in its continuation.

I wanted to write something mushy, and I hope you like it as much as I did writing it.

[fairyrona]

What's wrong? Rainbow.

Okay this post is a little of a brain vomit, because I've read so many smart posts lately and I have some thoughts that kinda tie into all of them or maybe provide some pieces.

So, let's add some maybe fresh thoughts. If somebody had already said all that, please step forth lmao

First, the Zombie Boy drawing and different/changing timelines. (and project rainbow) For For context, @willbyersabyss 's post.

S1 version mentioning the mind control experiments.

-> completely erasing that timeline/version of events by the said mind control. -> And now Will Byers has become the Zombie Boy

It's almost unbelivable how much timeline-wrongness/loops S2 hides under it's sleeve.

Trapped in an artificially created time loop / timeline.

What's wrong with Mama? Rainbow. Timeline's wrong.

Oh, what you say Nancy-in-Terry's overcoat/costume?

Murray's? But not yours?

Oh, then what if Murray's timeline?

Zombie Boy version. The one that says Will got lost in the woods. Our timeline. And then we get Lucas telling Max the truth. (Events of s1, that represent the Zombie Boy version.) But on this particular timeline-train of thoughts, he literally repeats after Nancy:

Will didn't get lost in the woods. The timeline's wrong.

And then it get's even more messy, because Max thinks this story feels derivative. This is literally us reading the s1 article. But then, why is she reacting to the s2 version like that?

And then she calls him out for lying. We get told multiple times, that Lucas is not telling the true version of events.

Friends don't lie. Never ever. No matter what. Is that right? Then how do you explain this?

Out of order. The timeline is wrong. Out of order.

Friends don't lie. Never ever. No matter what. Is that right? Then how do you explain this?

Now, lets go back a little. And add some MKUltra.

What's wrong with mama? Rainbow. Timeline's wrong. Out of order.

I don't think I've seen anyone mention the fact that we've got not 1, not 2, but at least 3 Rainbow Rooms.

terry ives' mind loop (with different colour-gradings)

Ray's, the lab ward's home in Chicagoproject nina tape-based memories project nina tape-based memories (with different colour-gradings)

While we're at HNL colour grading I wanna quickly add that Terry's sequences are a lot warmer, I'd even say the walls are different paint all together. But it could just visual clue of time passing, renovations and all.

However. It's a cool detail that while Terry's memories are warm-ish-> turn greenish just as it cuts to little Jane and Kali and then the lighting immediately becomes cold - like in Will's scenes. (And Ray's, ''true'' version is warm as well. Outside of the girls nightgowns, that are more cool-toned. and that's another mindfuckery detail, bc Ray's kids are dressed more like lab subjects than the lab subjects.) (out of order)

I wanna talk bout the middle Rainbow Room. And its possible connection to MK Ultra.

First. Light is important. Here are two posts about light's and rainbow's involvement in the experiments'.

For context, go to the two @conflictofthemind 's posts.

breathe. sunflower. rainbow. three to the right, four to the left. four-fifty. breathe.

breathe. (He isn't breathing!)

sunflower. (follows the light. Joyce to find Will, El to talk to Terry etc. Will's house being all lit up in the pilot. AND the shed. And the light bulb thing. followed the light? and went back?)

rainbow.

(electromagnetic spectrum gets separated. different wavelengths reflect at a different angle. but in the end it's still just an optical illusion. it doesn't exist in a specific point in the sky.)

Rainbows are actually full circles. The antisolar point is the center of the circle. Viewers in aircraft can sometimes see these circular rainbows. (The horizon obstructs our view. It's as if the second half was under. In the Upside down.)

three to the right, four to the left. 43. 1943?

four-fifty. (Turning up the dial on the machine. 450° degree angle? it loops.

breathe. it loops.

Also, the safety vault, the rainbow and the dial is all circle shaped, and it ends on the dial being turned, as if we're actually going round on it's axis. (But in Terry's memories, and Ray's flat, we're only seeing one half of the story. S4? we get too many versions. A half circle, the rainbow going around the room, turning upside down etc.)

In that scene they are in Ray's apartament. (another light reference)

And I have a few theories. This is the writers telling us that

there are multiple versions of the event

these memories from another timeline. which i'll touch upon in a different post, to keep things in order

the event is replicating itself in different manners

Okay, now a rundown of the scene:

-> The Kali Gang bursts in. The RAY-guy begs for his life. Says he's gonna help El find Brenner.

-> Nobody believes the guy, neither the audience nor the characters, but the thing is - he was telling the truth! Now, after s4, after being introduced to yet another, COMPLETELY different rainbow room, we know that.

What also interest me is that Ray said Brenner trusts him - thus he knows Brenner is alive. Was that a secret between the bad men as well? Is Brenner being alive something more than not succumbing to injury circa s1?

The things is!! El and Kali never entered Ray's rainbow room.

And Ray telling us the truth feels like a check mark - this! This is the one!

I think either:

a) there are different versions of the event: Where the girls in the room were not El and Kali, but some other two kids, possibly actual siblings.

a.1) this only happened once - and Jane is not El.

b) The original event that keeps weaving itself into the plot his hasn't happened to Terry specifically.

c) Or there was no ''original'' but it keep's repeating to trigger something, or replicate an effect. Somebody finding two ''kids'' in a rainbow room.

This really feels more like a visual and storytelling metafor.

Same with @erikiara80 post about colour green.

Especially with what happened st Ray's place.

El and Kali on different sides of conflict, Kali being the more blood-thirsty, revenge seeking one.

-> Kali and El want to kill Ray. But Kali want it to last, to make him suffer. -> For a moment El listens but then Kali-Gang find the girls in the rainbow room -> El notices a photo frame with Ray and his daughters and doesn't kill him in the end. -> This pisses off Kali, she want to kill him, but El stops her. And they evacuate without killing the guy.

vs. El showing 'empathy'.

But we know that NINA's memories are not entirely trust-worthy... (s4 Owens: how much did you skip?)

This might be a nod to the fact that El doesn't actually relate to the strong emotions Kali is feeling about this. (That El is not Jane, Ray didn't torture her mother.)(Or that they originate from different timelines.)

Oh and, let's not forget about the staring point. The Zombie Boy articles. And how Will-Joyce-Hopper are involved in that scene sequence.

Want it or not, in this color grading, this car looks like Joyce's green pinto.

And this, also, looks like Joyce's green pinto.

Now, why am I suddenly pulling Joyce and Hopper into all of this? Because Hop says a funny line in s2.

"You wanna take him back to Chicago?'' (about Will having episodes. They also mention Boston, where another comic takes place.)

All in all, Hopper discourages Joyce from looking for help anywhere else but HNL.

But take this car parked by Ray's place, take that one line, and take the fact that Ray was not bullshitting El?

And to that let's add that the Zombie Boy event having ''Chief Hopper'' literally written all over the page? Zombie Boy is encircling him for gods sake. (in green) Pointing fingers.

(Which Chief Hopper tho haha)

oh and

I really hope this makes sense. Might not. Hopefully it does.

[ym-loreposting]

Saints, Gods and Dragons in the murals of Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Fire Emblem: Three Houses is a large game that has subtle world building and thematic details hidden all over and in this post I want to point a few out, mainly concerning the depictions of Seiros, Sothis and the four Saints, as well as some related things. Major spoilers for Three Houses and Fire Emblem Warriors: Three Hopes after the cut.

The hooded Saint

Saint Seiros is the identity Archbishop Rhea of the Church of Seiros originally went under during the War of Heroes, which ended with the Adrestrian Empire and Church of Seiros coming to rule over Fódlan. The war ended in the Imperial year 98, but Seiros stuck around for at least a century more until the completion of Garreg Mach Monastery in Imperial year 195.

Some time after this, Seiros would "die" and the Church of Seiros went on to be led by Archbishops, of whom at least a substantial portion were alternate identities of Seiros. This is made most apparent in Sylvain and Ignatz's support line in Three Hopes, where they discuss a painting of an Archbishop who ruled around the Imperial Year 961. During the support line, the painting is noted to bear a resemblance to Rhea and it also looks the part.

Saint Seiros meanwhile is a religious figure revered throughout Fódlan, but she is never noted to look like Rhea despite them being the same person, so why is that? The answer lies in a piece of promotional art for Three Houses that depicts an in-universe mural. Near the bottom of the mural, a hooded figure can be seen that is the Saint Seiros. This is evident from the clothing she wears under her robe being the garb Seiros wears, as well as the wavy Sword of Seiros she holds.

This is further driven home by the murals shown at the start of each chapter in Three Houses, some of which depict the hooded Seiros as well. The one for Chapter 10, Where the Goddess Dwells, for example, shows a variation of the promotional mural. This variation also depicts the Immaculate One, Seiros's Nabatean form, which are thought to be separate beings in the religion of the Church of Seiros.

The mural at the start of Chapter 2, Familiar Scenery, meanwhile shows a statue of the hooded Seiros defeating Nemesis. The familiar Sword of Seiros can once again be seen wielded by the hooded figure.

In-universe, it seems the face of Saint Seiros isn't known, likely a deliberate choice so that Rhea could continue to lead the Church of Seiros as its various Archbishops even after the 'death' of Saint Seiros.

The depiction of the Goddess and the Saints

While she appears as a child throughout Three Houses and Three Hopes, in the murals of the Church of Seiros, Sothis is depicted as a grown woman. In the large promotional mural, she seems to be the winged woman that takes up the bulk of the mural, as Seiros is depicted near the mural's bottom. Whether the mural depicts an idealized version of Sothis or the actual form she took prior to her murder by Nemesis is something I am not sure of yet. This depiction of Sothis can also be seen in the murals at the start of Chapters 9 (The Cause of Sorrow) and 4 (The Goddess's Rite of Rebirth). Of note is that Sothis is often depicted alongside a star symbol, likely representing the Blue Sea Star, her place of origin.

The mural at the start of Chapter 4 shows several other figures alongside Sothis, which are Seiros in her usual hooded depiction and the Four Saints that fought alongside her in the War of Heroes. The Saints in the mural resemble the statues that were built of them, not necessarily their true appearance (as is the case with Cethleann/Flayn).

The Saints, who are in truth Nabateans, also seem to appear elsewhere, specifically in their Nabatean forms. The crest of the Church of Seiros has a dragon depicts a white dragon that one at first may assume to be the Immaculate One (aka Seiros). However, this dragon lacks some key features of Immaculate One, most notable the Immaculate One's curled horns. Its head shape is also subtly different.

Instead, this may be the otherwise unseen Nabatean form of Saint Cichol/Seteth, which is indicated by the rest of the symbol of the Church of Seiros. Atop the symbol rests a mitre resembling the one worn by Cichol in his statue. In Three Hopes, it was revealed the name of this Nabatean form is the "Hammer of Judgment".

The flags of Knights of Seiros, as well as the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, depict a Griffon-like creature on their flags. This may be the Wind Caller, Macuil's Nabatean form, though there are some differences in their designs, most notably the tail, hind legs and head horns. They could just be generic Griffons, which have appeared in Fire Emblem: Awakening and Fire Emblem: Engage, but those settings are distinct from the setting of Three Houses/Three Hopes and generic Griffons do not appear in Fódlan. Thematically at least it would make sense for Macuil to be depicted on the Knights of Seiros's flag, given Macuil made weapons for Seiros and the other Saints during the War of Heroes and the Knights of Seiros act as the protectors and metaphorical weapons of the church. The design differences remain notable however.

[kinky-pen]

Got any general Ouran headcanons?

More disorganised, general thoughts!

Tamaki:

When Tamaki found out about renfairs, the whole host club wasn't just dragged to one (I don't believe they're a thing in Japan, but I may be wrong), Tamaki made them help him organise one. Yes, Kyoya had thought he'd escaped budgeting for Tamaki's whims in adulthood, and yes he felt stupid for thinking that.

Paints his nails frequently. It's an activity he finds fun, but he also repaints them constantly because he changes his mind about the colour constantly! He also wants them to match his outfit, and god forbid he plan ahead.

Was raised Catholic in France, but finds much more love for the aesthetics and community than the religion himself.

Haruhi:

Haruhi was always androgenous, but she embraces her gender nonconformity and identity even more as they become and understands themselves. Lots of lovely suits, both masc and fem. (They do use all pronouns, also, but use she/they the most)

Keeps the short hair!! I know she grows it out in the manga, but the short hair is nicer, more in character, and Haruhi said on multiple occasions that they prefer it.

When she's a lawyer (not if, let's be real), she's actually scary good at employment law and making sure companies compensate and treat their worker's fairly (comrade Haruhi, everyone)

Kyoya:

Keeps a sketchpad handy a good portion of the time. He found art really relaxed him, and he's pretty talented at it, but he'll keep it to himself as it's something he actually considers for him, not profit or prestige.

Has had a crush on every member of the host club, at some point, except Hanni for obvious reasons (boo, you whore)

Has diagnosed depression, and is half convinced he has a personality disorder of some flavour. He can be a bit of a hypochondriac, however, and his doctors haven't confirmed anything as of yet. Who knows.

Hikaru:

Dyes his hair constantly, all sort of colours. Like Tamaki and his nails, Hikaru recolours his hair very often - as soon as he gets bored of it. It got to the point where he dyed it four times in a month, fried it all off, and had to get a buzz cut. He eased up a little after that.

Loves getting tattoos. He's one of those people that really love the sensation of it, and he also gets a cool piece of art on his body forever! Yes there's something wrong with him, he's seeing a therapist!

Loves spending time in his office, tinkering about with new things - whether it be finding new ways to put together certain pieces of hardware, or coding new software. He can disappear in there for days straight, sometimes (he has a mini fridge stocked with drinks and snacks, don't worry)

Kaoru:

Goes through phases of growing out his hair, then cutting it all off again. Changes hairstyles frequently. When you're head of a designer brand, you do have to balance keeping up with the latest trends with setting them, and I think Kaoru does well with both sides of that.

Loves flower arranging (which is semi-canon), but it's something he keeps up his whole life.

Kaoru actually does have some """mild""" HPD (that's the phrasing he uses, but he generally means he's high functioning) he's just like me frfr

Mori:

This man matures like a fine wine. Will always be attractive, honestly. He went from hunk to DILF to GILF effortlessly.

Still wins Judo competitions and such well into his early fifties, but decided to retire from competing at 53 due to some joint issues. Still keeps it up for fun and health, though.

Had a bit of a revelation about putting his foot down and protecting his boundaries during university. It actually helped him a lot with the self destructive tendencies he has in canon.

Hunni:

Living his best life with his goth wife! He just adores that girl so much and she'll kill for him! (Ask her to kill for you, Hunni, she really wants to)

Takes up baking his own cakes, which does actually save money in the long run - not that they need to worry about that.

Had a similar revelation to Mori in university, caused by Mori standing up for himself more. He realised that he can still be true to himself and what he wants, without running roughshod over those who care about him. He can still be a little selfish, but better than what we see in canon.

Also, as this is a kink blog and I don't really want to encourage engagement from people not into NSFW/are minors - please only 'like' this post if you're the aforementioned :)

[theinfamousdoctorf]

You’ve officially convinced me to buy some cheap felt and make a few plushies how dare you /lh

That's excellent! But I would recommend working with cheap fabric over felt. Felt can be frustrating and it tears easily if you try to work it inside out. Also it's better sewn with strands of embroidery floss or thick crochet string. [I use a blanket stitch. Look at the jester shoes on my plushies to see how that looks.]

And as an aside; for anyone who attempts my DCA pattern- it's actually a decent first project because you'll learn how to -Work on things on the wrong side and turn them right side out. And add features by putting extra pieces into a seam. Which is basic plushie stuff. -Do a small amount of applique and see how you feel about it. [Some people find it frustrating.] -Sew buttons on. -The bare bones of how pants are constructed. -Use stuffing and make doll joints by leaving parts pinched/sewn and without any. -Make a crude ruffle. It's a nice quiet hobby that's fairly portable. And at the end of it you have a little guy. None of this pattern requires a machine and if the fabric you get is thin, then it'll just put up less resistance when sewn by hand. HOT TIPS - Do not sew hand-dyed-type batik fabric with a needle and thread. It looks like regular cotton but it's very dense. - Best place to get a sewing machine is Goodwill. Look for the heaviest metal machine you can find. Singer and Kenmore are the best. And places still exist to get them tuned up and fixed if needed. - When stuffing tear small bits of fluff and poke them into little crevices with a chopstick or similar. Don't over-stuff. Keep it light. - Ignore tutorials that sew stretch fabric on a regular sewing machine. You won't get good or durable results. You need a Baby-Lock sewing machine for stretch fabric. Turn your current t-shirt inside out and look at the seams. It makes a four thread seam just like that. - Slick fabric paint needs a minimum of four hours to cure. Don't try to cheat this, you cannot touch it until it's dry. If you're painting on something that's not flat; pin it to some Styrofoam like you're dissecting a frog to prevent accidents. - Always wash fabric before use. It's okay to stomp cotton/poly around in the shower with whatever soap comes off you hair and just hang dry. Don't use the finished edge of the fabric for anything. Just cut it off and pitch it. - Paper clothing patterns can be ironed flat on the lowest setting. Go quick and don't push hard. ALSO - You guys can always ask me anything if you get stuck! My grandma and my mother taught me the basics and I figured out quite a bit on my own. :)

[dyushas]

I return two months later with another people standing image but this time it's Younger Character Designs for the Wayfinder Trio, because I don't think they should look exactly the same for four years straight of their adolescence. So this is how I imagine them when Ven had only just arrived in the Land of Departure

Thought-process notes under the cut (mild spoilers ig):

Terra:

-I think Terra is a creature of habit and has been dressing mostly the same since at least puberty, especially since his style is the most like Eraqus' (in my opinion) and I think most people would copy their parents less as they get closer to adulthood instead of more, but what do I know? Idk what I'm even talking about half the time. It's ultimately vibes, I just think that's his brand of autism. But I had to do it at least a little differently to justify the drawing

-Obviously he is like four years younger or something here so he's not as good at things yet or he would've just taken the Mark of Mastery then, so he's got a wrist brace to show he has fucked up his wrist. To show he's still not good at things. I am very intelligent

-I didn't want to draw the full arm piece but I pretend it's because he hasn't worked his way up to handling that much extra weight on one side yet

-I think the red shirt and the patterns look nice so I also did that

-Aqua cut his hair and she isn't that good at it

-I think he's meant to have brown eyes

Aqua:

-She's got so many flowy bits in her canon outfit and I think it probably took her awhile to achieve the kind of control needed for those to not just be a hazard, so at this point she's a younger teen and she isn't there yet, but she can still afford to add a bit of flair

-I was looking at ballet warm-up clothes like those trash bag shorts cause she's got this dancer thing going on

-She and Terra have the same style of shirt because I thought it would be cute and emphasize their closeness as well as the fact that Ven is somewhat of an outsider here at this point

-She has a knee thing. She hurt her knee. She probably fell trying to figure out that fuckass twirl she does sometimes or something

-She cut her own hair but had Terra help with the back. Mistakes were made

-Terra's nails are painted, too, I just drew him with the wrong hand position to show it. The two of them have been the only other kids around for a good while so they hang out when they're supposed to be asleep sometimes to study their keyblade stuff and then get distracted with something silly and joke back and forth, and they paint each other's nails and share clothes sometimes, although this is getting harder cause they're less and less the same size. And then the next day, Eraqus has to tell them off because Aqua is mad Terra's hogging the bathroom and now they're at each other's throats. Just the way it is

Ventus:

-I can write off everyone looking the same in the flashbacks in BBS cause it was a PSP game and they'd already made a lot of new character models so like. I can think "it was just a practicality thing, they probably didn't actually look the same back then" but Ventus also has the same outfit in UX and I pretend I do not see it. There's no way. He needs something else, his skin is sticking to his clothes. It's just not right, it's not ethical, he's only a boy

-I let him keep the waistcoat though cause it feels SO UX era, everyone in that damn game has a little waistcoat and then no one (?) in the console games does. So my thought process is that this one thing is for SURE from tha past and he just keeps wearing it. He's a little vintage

-He has shorts because ummm :P

-Sora had shorts both as a little baby in BBS and a larger baby in KH1, and then as he's been depicted as less kiddish and more teenaged they have him in those cropped pants now. So it's a Sora parallel. Shorts are just the little boys garment

-"But what if his legs get cold?" Well clearly I thought of that

-He has no armor bits because at this point in time he's just been through a lot of trauma and has only just woken up from a mild coma (for him), so he's all kinds of unwell and I don't think he's really doing any proper training yet. Eraqus already kind of babied him in the main story, so he was probably truly swaddled back then. He's dressed for COMFORT

-This meant he also needed different shoes so I drew some. They're not very remarkable

-I gave him a little jacket because I tried drawing him just without one and I didn't like it, he didn't look enough like he spends his days skulking around and looking sad and not getting to hit things with his keyblade, so I gave him something haori-adjacent like it's maybe something Eraqus had lying around and let him wear like how my mom starts putting her jackets on me when she thinks I'm acting sick. But it has black and white checks on the sleeves because I had to put them SOMEWHERE or else it wouldn't be right and every other option I could think of sounded ugly

-I CAN'T EXPLAIN THE LEGWARMERS, I just wanted him to have a unique silhouette that makes him look like he's been sitting the fuck around

-He just has the same hair as he had in UX, which is his original hair but shorter

That's it unless I forgot something in which case you can ask and I may or may not have an answer.

I might also draw Vanitas in this time period even though I'd just give him the same outfit he always has since it's a magic outfit or whatever, but like for the sake of imagining him Small. Vote now on your phones if I should or not so I can disregard it and do whatever I feel like anyway

[n3kk1tty]

" Hawkins held so many bad things and memories you just had to run away so you could actually live your life before It was cut short. In your new home you expect the paranormal not to find you but what happens when four vampires fall madly in love with you. "

(Y/n) - Your Name. (E/C) - Your Eye Color

Stranger Things ( Reader ) x Poly! Lost Boys

Fic requested by @whatchamacallthis

As soon as you graduated you hit the road running. Just as far as you could go, as far as you could get away from the cursed town. The last few years of your highschool life in Hawkins had been filled with other worldly phenomena, blood, and the loss of one of your closest friends. All you got for your troubles was your life, a gnarly scar, and enough trauma to last you a couple lifetimes . You had gotten your huge four clawed scar from taking a hit from the demogorgon for good old Steve Harrington. Even though at the time the dude was another one of those school bully dick heads you knew Nancy cared about him and you didn't even think before you took a slash to the back like a champ.

It haunts your nightmares that fucking monster, but you knew it was dead. It has to stay dead. That thing took a sawed off shotgun to the face and you riddled it with bullets till Nancy had to stop you as you cried and screamed. Your childhood friend Barb was dead. Your friend was never coming back and that scar just burned that truth into your brain every single day you breathed. You'd never spend another night with her using face paint to paint sunflowers on her arms or telling her about how Munson got you to paint him miniatures for his hell fire club. You, Nancy, and Barb could never go back to that time in the past but you tracked on. That cursed night you were lucky to be wearing the heavy duty leather jacket your dad gifted you, the doctors said if it wasn't for the thick padded jacket the slashes would have done life threatening damage to your back and you would have died or been crippled for the rest of your life. Sometimes you wish it had but I mean I guess there was some kind of luck watching over you.

Oh your poor lovely father though. It had only ever been you and him since your supposed mother dropped you off at your father's gun shop and shooting range not but six hours after you were discharged from the hospital as a baby. Your dad never talked about her and you never cared to ask but the woman was a real piece of work. He said he didn't even know she was pregnant but the tests proved you were his so he built his life around you. Growing up with a gun shooting, alcohol drinking, motorcycle riding mean son of a bitch for a father meant most of Hawkins thought your dad would have been tough on you. He was notorious for being a town hard ass like Hopper but the day he picked you up was the day he raised you with the kindness of a gentle giant. It broke his heart to see the wounds on your back as you fought blood loss in the hospital.

The man sobbed like a baby as he didn't know if you'd come out alive. He didn’t even understand what had happened to you and your friends wouldn't say anything. Needless to say he almost killed Johnathan and Steve as they stood in the hallway of the hospital as you fought for your life that night. It was worse though when you came out broken something fierce. When you first woke up all you did was cry and scream like the heavens had wronged you. You wailed until you couldn't no more as you screamed that it had to be dead and that you should have been there to save Barb. Nancy could only calm you down by holding you as you to cried into each others arms until your shirts were soaked and nothing but whimpers came out. You never once blamed your friend or anyone else but that monster for what happened but you wished so much that you had been there that night or had taken her place. While Barb was being killed you were at a Hellfire DND game and it hurt you ever day to know.

You eventually started healing, moving on in your friend's name but you were still facing troubles. Your scar became something you didn't want anyone to ever see and it took you ages to repair your jacket. You remember how long it took you to repair it. Nights spent cleaning and cutting new leather for the scratches before you finally decided this was gonna be your permanent battle jacket. Something Barb would have loved to see you in. You had used one of Barbs red flannels to fix the slashes as you tried healing your pain. This way your friend could live on with you. You’d give everything to swap places with her and give your amazing friend your life but the more you cried and screamed and begged the more you knew Barb would have been sad to see you like this.

Then you got into tattoos to help with your trauma and eventually it became your passion of sorts. You were on the track to a normalish life but before you knew it Hawkins was under attack again. All your old wounds turn to anger and an urge to protect your friends like you'd give your life every time you walked out the door. While you grew distant from your friend Eddie and the hell fire club because they couldn't understand what you went through Nancy and Steve grew even closer to you. It led you to once again blindly charging into battle armed with your sawed off shotgun and other weapons strapped to you. You crawled through hell and back, you knew they closed the portal to the upside down but just like the feeling that told you Barb was gone the same feeling told you this cycle wasn't gonna end that night.

When you graduated your dad gifted you a truck with a RV attached to it. He told you to get the fuck outta dodge. That he didn't want you charging into trouble no more after he discovered the truth. He knew that you'd die for your friends if they asked but all he wanted was for you to actually live before dying. That next week you were gone in the wind with your motorcycle and things in the back. Having said your goodbyes and making sure they knew you were a call away you ran to find some sense of calm. That's how you ended up in Santa Carla, the most unconventional choice you could have made but something called you here. It had just enough life and charm for you to enjoy but none of the other worldly danger like you had in Hawkins. Maybe more populated cities would be safer, you thought. 

You had spent some time in Santa Carla truly finding your place amoung the weird, blooming into the person you always wanted to be but felt too restricted to  in your small town. Piercings, tattoos, and punk rock T-shirts is all you paraded in down the boardwalk to the tattoo shop your dad's old biker friend owned. The man took you in allowing you to park your home on wheels on his land with all the hookups you'd need for free as long as you worked in his shop. You'd spend most the time running the counter or getting or giving tattoos and not a paranormal on sight. It was bliss. That was until one night a fight broke out outside the shop and like your nature in the past you didn't hesitate to come outside barreling to break it up. You remember slipping on your brass knuckles from your pocket and running outside charging as the others followed. 

Needless to say to have a bunch of punk rocker tattoo artists come barreling out a shop to break up a all out brawl between these bikers and surfer Nazis was a hell of a way to meet your future boyfriends. Pulling a curly haired dude out the onslaught shoving him into the shop before socking an aggressor left quite the impression on the boys. They remember hiding in the back as security came and the whole  store covered for them. When you came to the back they were hooked on sight. You stood before them rocking a killer leather jacket with this cool claw mark design on the back. Your hair messily tied in a bun with snake bite piercings and tattoos covering you sporadically. 

From that day on you didn't know a moment of peace again as these four men tried desperately to pick you up. They always came to the shop to see you. Even Marko begged for you to give him a tattoo and of course he got one where you'd have to be touching him constantly on the chest. The curly blonde flirted the whole time telling you how good you looked or how he'd let you use his body for practice any day. They would sit in the lobby hanging out shooting the shit going through your art books you brought for hours to the point the shop owner gave up trying to shoe them off. They became a permanent staple in your new life and every time they asked for a date you turned them down. It didn't matter you were playing hard to get it's not like when you went home from your shifts they didn't follow behind you or stalk outside your trailer ever night.

They were obsessed with you and wanted you. They wanted to comfort you on the nights you wailed and cried your eyes out, you would always end those nights with calling back home. Eddie didn't know why you left so suddenly or what happened to you so you couldn't lean on him for support. He hated how close you got to Steve Harrington after your attack but Eddie, Nancy, and Steve would always call you no matter what. Sometimes you'd get a call from Johnathan but it wasn't consistent. Tonight though you were having such a hassle with your trauma worried something was gonna happen to your friends as visions plagued your brain that you called out from work entirely. You sat at the secluded beach by your trailer. Sawed off shotgun by your side unloaded with rounds carelessly tossed in the sand you sat by the water in a bikini as you kept just your legs in the cold water.

You had made a fire and sat with a picture of Barb next to you as your scar sat exposed for the world to see. You couldn't go to the beach during the day or when anyone else was around. It's the same reason you kept turning down the boys even though you wanted nothing more to run into their arms. It was your scar. Your trauma. Your demons. You were too afraid something was gonna come back. All it took was some fucker opening that portal again and everyone you loved could be in danger. You knew though, everyone knew, even though you ran away from Hawkins all it took was a call and you'd be speeding down to the nearest airport and sprinting home to protect everyone. It was just the person you were.

You cried talking to Barb telling her you had been doing good and how you wished you could have at least brought her body back. You wanted nothing more than to bring her home one last time like the good old days. This time she wouldn't be cautiously riding on the back of your beat up motorcycle in the middle of the night as you took her home from a party but you'd make sure to bring her back one last time. Healing was hard, it was even tougher alone but you isolated everyone just for their safety. The first the boys noticed when they pulled up that night when you called out was the stereo and fire in the distance. When they got closer there was their new love interest so weak and small crying next to a picture and a shotgun. Anyone seeing this would have been exactly like David who damn near tore down the sand to stop you from what he thought you were gonna do.

Then the boys froze in place and were shocked running from your right shoulder to left lower back was this gnarly almost beastly looking scar. Matching almost one for one the design on your jacket. It looked like something huge had attacked you and with how you'd been known to cry about your friend and screaming in nightmares about killing the thing it's like puzzle pieces clicking into place. Something had attacked you and had killed your friend. Something had damaged you in a way the boys had been known to do to others. David couldn't stop himself before he was calling to you trying to get the gun away from you. When the boys words startled you it was like lighting and practiced motion took over. You loaded the gun quickly before pointing it straight at them, caulking it ready.

“ Hey! Yo freeze, we come in peace. “Marko says, jumping back. You pause before running to hide your scar tears welling in your eyes mumbling you were sorry and you knew it was hideous before Dwayne grabs your jacket. “ Your breathe taking (Y/n) if you want to cover it you can but I think it makes you look so strong and beautiful. “ Paul gently touched your arms trying to take the gun from you as you unarm and unload it. “ It's okay you don't have to be alone. “ Paul rubbed circles on your shoulders as you fell apart against David's body that night. You told them everything. You told them you liked them but was terrified your past would come back to hurt the ones you love. They held you as you told them the unbelievable life you had lived in your home town of Hawkins Indiana. You told them about the beast that took so much from you and the thing threatening your peace every day. You thought they wouldn't believe you and would think your were crazy but all the boys did was mumble praise against your skin promising you'd never be harmed again.

After that you started dating the four bikers. They were chaotic but they loved you dearly. It didn't take you long to figure out their secret though. I mean you can only dodge so many day time date nights with out someone from back home making a vampire joke and well Hawkins taught you anything was possible. At first you tried avoiding them when you figured it out. You didn't want any part in any more crazy but having your boyfriends show up to your job confused and then you ditching work till they are banging on your front door. Let's just say David was not pleased to have the door swing open and his beloved girlfriend pointing a sawed off shotgun to his face.

You shot it in the air to prove you meant business. “ I know your vampires boys. I don't know if this will kill you but sure turned the demogorgon into ground beef. So y'all and your fucked up game is over. “ Lots of flowers, jewelry, chocolates and apologies and explanations later you took your boyfriends back into your heart. I mean at least you could reason with them and you had worse problems to worry about in Hawkins so truly while it was fucked up they were the lesser of two evils. “ Just knock the people out then eat from them. Try leaving them alive and if you're gonna kill people be it bad people please. I don't have the energy to fight you and I ain't got nowhere safe to go. Plus I know you'll chase me wherever I do run so what's the point fighting my love for you fanged idiots” You and the boys were laying in your trailer's bed one day when David popped the question. “ Join us (Y/n) and you'll be stronger than ever. You can protect everyone with the powers vampirism gives you. We won't ever have to worry about time, sickness, or danger taking you from us. We love you too much, to let you go. Please be ours till the sun gives out”

You sit up in the bed throwing a pillow at David. “ Way to ruin the moment dude that's like asking me to marry you goof and what a bad proposal.“ Marko sat up cuddling into your side. “ What you don't love us enough to be ours forever. “ “Maybe we should have gotten rings “ Dwayne smiles. You shake your head at them. “ We haven't been together for a few years yet. Nor have you met my father or friends. So no weird vampiric wedding bells yet.” Paul jumps up to blocking you from leaving the room. “ Hey you said yet! So does that mean you will some day. “ You laugh scooping his face up as you put a slow lazy kiss to the man's face. “ Maybe after you actually meet the other people in my life who I care about and ask my dad to marry me. Though if you really want me to follow you to the ends of the earth you'll have to be prepared for when I probably go running off into the hordes of hell again. “

Dwayne and David look at you as you say that statement. “ Your thinking of putting yourself in danger again. “ You freeze in Paul's arms as you think back to your nightmares. They were like visions of Hawkins under attack again and Barb calling you home. What was worse was seeing Eddie standing dead before you wailing for you to save him. You try to clear your head before David can see but it's to late. Vampires are pulling you into a pile kissing you gently and whispering praise. A tangle of limbs and heart beats; kisses and fangs. It was like you couldn't think when all four boys worshiped every inch of you, chasing away the pain of the past before tears could fall from your ( E/C) eyes. You felt so unbelievably loved and pampered every night by them it made it hard to remember you were sleeping with monsters.

To others they were beasts feasting on carnage while to you they guarded you like loyal guard dogs. Vicious and aggressive to others while kind and caring to you. As you slipped back into consciousness from your blissful sleep the boys cradled you in their arms. “ We will follow you through hellfire.” Dwayne whispered as he kissed your neck. “ We will kill anything that harms you. “ Marko said as he placed a kiss on your thighs. “ We will love you no matter your past or your future. “ Paul said, kissing a trail up your arm. Finally David placed a kiss to your cheek as a tear fell from your eye, joy filling your heart. “ Our hearts, bodies, and souls belong to you (Y/n). If our princess of the dark decides to charge into hell we will make sure she will rule all the damned. “

The next day you and your lovers were on your way to Hawkins in a moment's notice. Your vampires would always treat your worries and intuition as truthful gospel as they knew you'd never lie as long as you breathed. If you were set on chasing what was coming to Hawkins that was plaguing you with nightmares, your four lovers of the night were going to make sure to follow you. After this battle was over they were sure to follow through with making you their queen of the damned and you promised to cherish them for your future eternal lives. Not before you could produce them heirs though of course as what was the point of having vampiric lovers if you couldn't have your own vampiric family someday? Soon Hawkins world would be rocked by the creatures heading straight for it again. This time though you had the damned on your side.

This was written based off a request in my ask box. I hope people can enjoy it even if it is a one shot fic.

[lestatslestits]

After approximately 2.5 weeks of work, I’m excited to share my little passion project. I don’t tend to sew for myself, but I couldn’t get the thought of making these out of my head, and here is the end result

Some fun facts about these dolls:

I patterned, cut, and sewed every single piece by hand

Aziraphale’s hair is yarn, and I sewed in and tied off every single piece individually. His hair alone took me upwards of ten hours

I could only find white sunglasses at the craft store, so Crowley’s glasses are hand painted by me

Aziraphale’s pocket watch is an actual functional mini pocket watch. It keeps time!

I had originally planned to use four-hole buttons for Aziraphale’s eyes, but I couldn’t find the exact ones that I needed, so I went with two-hole buttons, which I rotated in order to differentiate Aziraphale’s eyes from Crowley’s. The result is that Aziraphale now has goat eyes. Which feels appropriate somehow. Bless the ineffability of happy accidents.

In conclusion: I am incredibly proud of these man-shaped beings and I hope you enjoy them too!

[iznsfw]

Give me your best minju femdom

just how much are you willing to give for a dream that big?

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

7,397 words

Categories | dominant_curator!Minju x aspiring_artist!you; mommy kink; MINJU LIKES BEING CALLED DADDY; degradation; #DomJu; femdom

Content warning | pegging, SLIGHT DUB-CON, harsh criticism/insults from Minju

You asked for it.

"I'll think about it."

Four words. Four words that are designed to make it seem that there's still a possibility lingering here, but actually pose a definite answer: no. And you would have believed in a potential answer of yes if it weren't for the curator's amused smile as you exhibit your artworks to her. There's no chance anymore; just by looking at her pink lips, you know what she actually means.

Your whole world falls apart. There's your hope, there's your lifelong dream, all cut into hopeless little fragments on the ground. And all you can think is: why? You've worked so hard for this. You've taken so many classes, so many days of coaching and endless painting. It's a difficult world out there, but you are certain that you deserve better than a " I'll think about it."

You deserve to have your painting in the country's biggest gallery. You deserve the recognition, the praise, everything. But the curator of this museum isn't quite convinced, and although she doesn't say it directly, her bored eyes say it all. To her, you're just another artist with a superiority complex, just another artist she can reject and move on without.

Even her quirked lips tell you that she's unimpressed. Probably even disgusted. How dare a niche artist like you demand to come to her personally and ask to have this... art—(if she can even call it that)—displayed?

Her heels clack on the marble museum floor as she runs her fingers along the frames of your paintings. "Honey," she says, testily, throwing you an amused glance, "this isn't even Picasso level talent. And, in case you don't know, Picasso was a pretty shit artist."

You're taken aback by plenty of factors in that condescending statement, because for one, Picasso was an excellent painter. He's your role model in the world of painting and the medium of art itself. You've visited museums in places you aren't even remotely interested in staying just to see his art in person. Hell, you took classes to be able to replicate his abstract style. How dare this woman speak of him as if he weren't one of the biggest names in art? How dare she? You bet that she probably doesn't know how to name any painting besides Starry Night.

"This one"—and then Minju reaches her bare arm, exposed by the loss of a sleeve attached to her black turtleneck top, to glaze her fingers across one of your pieces—"is probably my least favorite. It's rushed, it's not even colorful enough to attract attention. Not even gray enough to capture a sad mood."

How many pointed bullets has she shot at you this afternoon? You're losing count. "Well," you answer, quite shaken, "I don't believe in colors very much. It's the drawing that should matter. You see—"

"I don't want nor care enough to hear about your nerdy art bullshit."

The umpteenth bullet. It strikes your heart right through the core, and through the flat of your back. You take two steps backward for a reason you aren't sure of. It's a big museum, filled with towering sculptures created by lone artists many decades ago and paintings that take up two blocks, yet what intimidates you more than any of them is this woman:

Kim Minju, curator of the biggest art museum in Korea, and a professional asshole. You had to find that put the hard way the moment you started to crush on her. Who wouldn't? Her features—doe eyes, pointed nose, and thick pink lips—blend in together so perfectly, as if she were another masterpiece in the museum. But looks, you learn, are deceiving. Kim Minju is not as kind as she looks, nor are her words as pretty as her face.

Dress pants sway freely around her slim legs as she walks back to you. Her expressions never vary away from boredom, condescending, and angry. It's like those are the only emotions she is capable of having. She's such a complex person—you understand that although you've only been with her from eight o' clock today to three—but so, unbelievably uninteresting at the same time. You have no idea what to make of her yet, except for the fact that she can be pretty cruel.

Minju approaches you with crossed arms, then pauses when she's just another breath away from you. You try to meet her gaze, but it's too good at holding yours. Besides, the hate you have for the fact that she's taller than you doesn't help either. But you have to hold your ground. If you don't, there will be more pieces to pick up than your broken dreams.

"I'll give it to you straight," says Minju airily, "my museum doesn't have the time for your art."

That's another shot. One more and you're dead. Your cheeks already flush from embarrassment, but she drones on, clearly not caring about what you feel. Not that that's an unusual thing for her.

"I spent all day trying to listen to you talk about your credentials and art whatnot," she continues. "But I'm getting bored, and I don't like your tacky style or you. So I suggest you find another smaller place to start posting your art, like a kindergarten teacher's art class billboard."

You've died at least a hundred times with each word she spits. You're utterly humiliated; you've been through terrors of teachers but you have never received words from them as harsh as Minju's. Every syllable was fashioned to hit just the right spot, because yes, your art's first criticism is its tackiness from when you first started. Yes, it was a risk you took when the first place you decided to hang your art is the biggest museum in the country. But you're not like the other artists. You've improved so much over the years, and your art is nothing less than pleasing to the eyes now that you've found your own style.

You have to admit that they do slightly look out of place with all the other gorgeous paintings, but you can be as good as them. You just need a jumpstart, and you'll get to it. You swear on your own life.

"Miss Kim," you answer, not sure what to say, "I can be as good as Van Gogh, or whoever artist it is that you like. I just need a place to start, and I think your museum is a good place for that."

Minju laughs. "Van Gogh was as shitty as Picasso, dear thing. And your art is not good enough for this museum to be good. So please, take my advice and start at the nearest preschool. I'll hear from you when you've finally gotten into second grade."

Dear thing? Dear thing?! Oh, now she's royally pissed you off. Now, it's your turn to be cocky. Kim Minju is about to find out that two can play at this game.

"For your information, Minju," you reply, now with more confidence, "I'm not your dear thing. And I'm the best artist of my generation right now. You're going to be so sorry if you don't accept my art right now."

Minju nods condescendingly, as if she were listening to a small child rambling about dinosaurs. There's a laugh on her face, which makes you even more infuriated because she is just not getting the point. If she does, she doesn't believe in it. Oh, not in the slightest.

"'Best artist'? Let's not get ahead of ourselves right now. Your style is not unique. The topics you draw are not game-changing. Not even close."

"You just don't have the eyes for it," say you with gritting teeth. You hate how your lips are quivering. "You're, you're not even an artist yourself. You're just a curator."

"And a good one at that." She's just as assured in her own abilities as you are. Minju is unfazed by your amateur insults. She could hear better from a sixth grader. "You can drone on all you want, honey, but that won't change the fact that I'm not interested in taking you in. You can go or kill yourself in front of me. Either way, I won't care."

That's your breaking point. Your hands start to form trembling fists. You can't cope with all this right now, or with Minju. She's just another self-absorbed curator. What does she know about art?

But you've relied your dreams on her. If she doesn't give in, you're nothing. You'll never have a chance to make it big. Nobody cares about art nowadays, except for the classicals, making it even harder to make a name for yourself. You want to become so big in the world of craft that you're credited as inspirations centuries from now. You want to be the best that no one ever was. If Minju doesn't like you or what you make, you don't have a chance.

Gone is your oversaturated arrogance. Gone is the front you were trying to put up before Minju. Most importantly, your dreams are gone, snapped into pieces just like that by words. You're more than hurt; you're devastated. If you can't be a renowned artist—the only steady dream you've had your whole life—what are all your efforts worth now? They will remain fruitless if you don't put one foot forward.

Minju is your wall blocking the path to fame and recognition. A goddamned gorgeous wall who won't falter nor break for anyone, especially not you. No punch can break her foundation. No word from you can make her bricks detoriate.

Try to hold it back, but the tears are forming in your eyes. You're a mess, you truly are. You've been a fool for your dream, and you are just realizing now at the present that it was all for nothing.

"Please," you whisper. Break the staring contest with Minju and look at your shoes instead. Look at the marble floor no one would cross to see your works. Look at the ground where the pieces of your hopes and desires have broken.

"Please what?" Minju is clearly enjoying this. Her crossed arms quiver as she tries to hold back a laugh. Oh, she loves seeing pathetic men admit that they're nothing. It's what she feeds on. She can put their tears in a bowl and put cereal in it for breakfast.

"I'll—I'll do anything. Is that enough? I'll do anything for you to accept my works."

There's the smallest hope in you as you see that Minju is considering this. For a woman like her,and a man like you, she can make you do anything. She can make you mop the floors of the museum and yell "hakuna matata" on its roof and know that you would do all that just for her acceptance. That's what makes it so, utterly satisfying.

"That depends, to be honest," she says slowly.

Minju leans down a little and places a finger under your chin. Her nails are sharp, and they scratch your skin as she tilts your face upwards. Her smile is teasing; you hate that you like it so much. You hate that despite her clear description of how much she dislikes you as a person and you as an artist, your magnetic attraction to her remains.

"Just how much are you willing to give, boy toy, for a dream that big?"

She's degrading you again. It's strange how much it makes your skin tingle.

"Like I said," you sniffle, "anything. I'll give anything."

"Oh, you'll sooo regret saying that."

With a woman of her caliber? Of course you will. But you're a desperate person. It's your sheer need and your willingness to do whatever it takes to get it that get you to places. It's both an advantage and a disadvantage, a pro and con, light and dark. Chiaroscuro, if you will.

"W-what do I have to do?" you ask shakily.

"Simple." And she says this without any shame or sign of shame: "Call me mommy."

It takes a moment for you to register, and Minju uses your confusion as the perfect time to pin you to the wall, like you are a masterpiece, too. Not that she sees you in that light; you are too weak to be one. Too easy to be played with.

Minju is kissing your neck. Lipstick leaves fresh marks on your skin. And when she bites... oh, your knees do more than buckle. You almost collapse to the floor. Thank God (or not) for Minju's hands popping your shirt buttons; they keep you standing. They keep you knowing that all this is real.

She kisses you again, crudely. "What did I say?"

"Call you mommy..."

"Say it then."

She swiftly pulls off her black top, and in the bat of an eyelash, tangles your wrists in between its fabric behind your back. All the while, her kisses rampage your skin. She can't get enough of your pathetic submissiveness. She plays with you as if you were a toy, her toy.

Her mouth traces your torso like a pencil. Her teeth come out to play at times, specifically to see the alarm in your eyes. But nothing prepared you for her lips right above your jeans, or her daring eyes looking up at you and shooting glares into your soul.

"Say it."

"Mommy..."

That's the ticket. The zipper and button are undone by Minju's eager fingers. Your cock is easily fished out and taken into her mouth as if it were nothing. Your body tenses as your mouth falls open.

Although she is the one on her knees, Minju shows that it doesn't change that she's still in control. Her technique and pacing alternates between harsh, rough suckling to a snail's pace of blowing.She sucks you off not for your own pleasure, but for hers. Clearly, that is what she has put first most in this world.

"Fuck!" you can't help but cry out.

Minju spits on your cock and squeezes it tightly. Your hips jerk forward at the tightness and pain. "You're not allowed to talk unless I say so," she says firmly. She's serious about this, too; her eyes show clear and unbridled anger. "Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, hnghh!" Your moan echoes in the wide museum. Her lips have rounded your head again and provide great suction. "Y-yes, mommy!"

Satisfied, Minju continues to suck you off. She's unlike any other girl you've had sex with. The others put on innocent faces to entice you whilst their lips worked on your cock, and picked up the pace if you pleased. They let out the prettiest of tears as they called you daddy, whimpered out the sexual title in the midst of the shoves of your cock down their throats.

But Minju... she's a woman with the unhinged desire to belittle you. Even in sex, she remains taunting—the licks at the sides of your dick and in the tiny slit you have are only done to make her laugh at your shivers. It's pleasurable, yes, but degrading, too. Degrading in the sense that she's simply doing it to see you break yourself into something more pathetic, into the writhing, needy mommy's boy that you aren't.

Or... ?

"This dick is so fucking small." Minju spits on the shaft with disgust. "I bet you can't even fuck me properly, not even if I guide you along."

"I—I can," you say, defensively. Minju's saliva coats your cock with more liquid than the continuous stream of pre-cum, which she licks off, of course.

Minju rises to her feet. It is only then that you admire her body. You would say that her face is the real deal, and it is, but you're still rendered shocked by her form. Her breasts are not the biggest, but they're still pretty eye candies. Their nipples are tiny pink things atop small handfuls of flesh. Her hips are what tempt you the most; they're so fucking wide, bringing more shape to her slim stomach.

"Show me," she says. She smiles again, marking a new challenge. "Put that cock inside me or you'll never make yourself recognized. I can fucking crush your dream with a snap of my fingers, baby, so I suggest you move fast."

You can't do anything. Besides the fear of never making it in the real world or as an artist bubbling inside of you, she's so tempting. Even with her all-black outfit: black heels, black sleeveless top, black dress pants, a style you are not fond of almost as much as you aren't fond of pineapple pizza, she attracts you. It's like there's invisible magnets taped to her skin that pulls your fingers to her hips, pulls down the long pants, and grabs her close.

Like magnets, you rub together. Your cock lodges in the hole between her legs. It's met with an immediate contraction, but Minju shows little appreciation on her face. Yes, her jaw drops and her eyes are suddenly round and wide, but she doesn't care to tell you how good it is. Your quick thrusts outnumber the fucks Minju gives about catering to your wants.

"Yes... fuck, yes, fuck that cock into me." Minju humps your entering and exiting shaft determinedly. "Suck on my tits, toy. Suck them until they're red and sore."

That's not something you're adamant to disobey. Like her lips lubricating the shape of your cock earlier, your mouth finds her nipples and captures it. You do as she says, sucking it cleanly and hardly. It feels amazing in your mouth. You knew it would even before it slipped in between your lips. Minju lets out sighs of gratification. That was the only thing it took for her to be louder. She would have to turn up the volume, though; the slaps of your cock into her cavern are starting to boom.

While her breasts are a beauty of their own degree, Minju's cunt is just perfect. It's wet, grasping onto your cock and covering it with a sheen of juices, just like she coated it with saliva during her blowjob earlier. Her mouth was considerably warmer though. But you aren't one to complain when you're clearly the toy in this situation.

Besides, the texture of her walls is a welcome addition to the stimulus on your shaft. Your cockhead repeatedly dips onto the patches of sensitivity, provoking a surefire reaction of the tender walls closing around it tighter. Jerk your hips forward; if you were only more powerful, you could reach her cervix and make it a finishing line. But no, your focus is on sucking the life out of Minju's boobs, just like she commanded.

Minju whispers soft curses under her breath. Arms wound around your neck, she silently tells you to go deeper. No, it's not just a matter of telling; it's a command, as brazen and firm as her earlier order to tell you to suck her tits. She expects you to comply, and if she is disappointed by you not doing so, she'll discard of you. Simple as that.

Release her nipple from your lips and prove that you're worthy. Prove it with more powerful thrusts of your hips into her tiny hips. You string together every might in your body, although most of it is being drained by Minju's humps on your shaft, into pushing your cock deeper. Minju cries out in pleasure. Continue the cycle and never break it. Eyes closed, head tilted to the sky, and arms almost choking your neck, you know you've proven your value to her. All you have to do now is to maintain that.

"Fuck, that's right!" Minju yells out. Even she can't handle your pounds. You're knocking he rinto oblivion. "Fuck mommy's cunt like that, slut! Fucking stretch her out!"

You're already stretching her out enough. It's hard to see since Minju is so adamant on fucking herself on you, but your girth is practically spreading her pussy lips apart. Wonder if she'll become tighter if you fill her up to the base of your cock.

Test it out. Cock stiff and a compelled mind in action, you shove yourself as hard and deep as you can.

"Oh fuck!" Minju's fully penetrated by you now. Your cockhead nudges the end of her tunnel and slams into it repeatedly. Minju's high on the pleasure. She's fucking herself onto you as if she were possessed by a succubus. She's sex-crazed, she's rabid, she's a feral fucking vixen who won't play around when it comes to what pleases her. And right now, what's giving her so much bliss is your dick. She's never letting it go.

But she thinks she wants something else to add to the mix.

"Finger my asshole," Minju says bluntly. Another command. She takes your hand, undoes it from its constraints, and guides it to her round bottom. "Do it."

"B-but..." You're not used to butt stuff, to put it cleanly. You've never touched or inserted yourself in any of your girlfriends' asses. It has always been purely excluded from sessions like these. "I'm, I'm not—"

Minju leans over conspiratorially and rasps in your ear: "Now."

Can you still continue proving yourself worthy? Even if you can't, you have no choice. Your chance at making it big is in Minju's hands. Besides, you're pretty curious yourself. Does it feel good there for her, too? How good, exactly?

Pat your finger on the tensing brown circle. Minju's breath hitches in response. Hide your uncertainty by meticulous teasing, rubbing your fingertips around her asshole and only slightly putting some inside. But Minju is becoming impatient. Whimpers still escape her lips, but she makes herself clear with the reverse of her ass into your hand. She knows what you're trying to do, and she's not letting you get away with it.

Hold your breath and plug one finger inside her. Turns out that's all you needed to do for Minju to put her all into hugging you with her walls, for her neck and head to throw back, for her to cry out a scream that sounds a little fox-like due to its pitch.

"Mommy's cumming, mommy's cumming, ffffuhh—! "

Her voice cracks. It's that momentary weakness that compels you to burst inside her like a popped balloon, except that instead of helium, you release hot strings of wet white cum. You don't have the mind nor the care for a few seconds to worry about impregnating her. The grasp of her walls and the push of her manicured nails into your skin are too mighty in turning your attention away from that.

However, to Minju, it doesn't matter if your cock is thick and big. She's paralyzed in shock. She can't believe you had the audacity to cum inside her.

"Fuck! What the fucking fuck did you do?" Her hands free themselves of their frozen to push you away roughly.

You only come to your senses after she slaps you. "I'm sorry, Minju," you say guiltily. Had you really lost all self-control after months without sex? Sex education literally revolves around protection! "Are you at least on the pill...?"

"Of course I am!"

The tension releases itself from your shoulders. At least God still has your back. "It isn't a problem then," you say. "We can—"

Minju pushes you again. This time, your back knocks hard into the wall. She grasps you by the neck tightly. There's true anger in her eyes now. None of it is an arrogant ploy anymore.

"Are you fucking stupid?" she asks, then rolls her eyes. "Oh, why did I even bother asking? Of course you are."

Ouch.

"The thing here, boy toy, is I don't want your cum in me! Clean me up!"

"D-do I get a tissue or...?"

"No. Lick it out of me."

You're stunned. What? Shake your head, bewildered. "No, I'm not gonna lick my cum out of your cunt, Minju!" you yell.

Her fingers grab your hair and pull it downwards. You fall to the floor in a heap. But you should get used to it. With the way she treats you like you're dust beneath her feet, you've always belonged here. It's only literal now.

You take a glance at her creampied pussy and cringe. It looks gorgeous; it's dripping out of her like a river. But now that you have to lick your own cum out of her, like you're some obedient little slave who can do nothing but obey and obey, it doesn't look so enticing at all.

Minju fires you another glare. It's a warning of the worse that's yet to come if you don't clean her up.

Oh, the things you do for your dreams. The things you do for money; for fame; for the tiniest bit of recognition...

How did you get to this point?

Fine, you'll lick.

At first, it's humiliating. Your ears burn red as Minju parts her legs and sits on your mouth, using you as a sex toy and chair. It's hard to support her weight on your face, even if she is light. It's easy to slip your tongue inside her though. You know it feels good when she moans softly.

"Come on," she pushes you on. Demanding, that's what Minju is. You wonder how she even became a curator with that kind of attitude. She slides herself up and down your tongue, which doesn't become flaccid in its licks due to the uncomfortableness of it all. "Clean mommy up. We still have a lot of things to do."

You take some of your cum from her creamed hole and drag your tip tantalizingly to her clit. Minju whimpers. Repeat the process for a few more seconds. You enjoy the shivers she does, and how tight she is around you. They make the experience much more bearable.

You haven't appreciated her thighs enough. She may be slim, but they are thick enough to choke the breath out of you. They encase the sides of your face tightly as she guides your tongue hotly. Her eyelids are fluttered lower than usual. Her breaths become more labored after the ones before them exit.

Glad that your hands have been freed from much earlier, you try to make this fun for you, too. Grab those honey thighs and push her down onto your mouth. Her gasp is satisfying. Her eyes flutter wide. They're all fun to watch: the shiver of her tight form, the expressions she makes, but pulling her down was a big mistake. Now you can't breathe at all. Your nose is nestled into her clit.

The muffled breaths you take end up pleasuring her cunt instead, much to your dismay. Minju doesn't mind; they make her more soaked than before. She sways her hips to and fro to get the feel of your nose swiping on her clitoris and your tongue entering and exiting her. The tip of your tongue excites her senses in the best way possible. She can't get enough of it. Hands on her nipples, she bounces herself on your pink appendage, overall satisfied with the work you've been doing.

"Such a good boy now," she remarks with a playful caress of your hair. "See how pathetic boys like you always end up in this position? Lick me faster."

The insults graze your pride because you know they are true. You became a whore for Minju. Her little boy toy. Weren't you just boasting about your own achievements a while ago? If so, why are you on your knees now? It's humiliating.

Close your eyes to stop the tears of embarrassment from flowing. The last of your dignity is gone. You can't give Minju the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

You increase the speed. Thrust your tongue inside her faster. Wiggle it around to hit the right spots. You discover that it isn't a matter of cleaning your cum up from inside her anymore. That was all a scam to get you to orally pleasure her. It shows in the way Minju refuses to let your tongue leave her hole, even to collect your semen. She's humping it too quickly for there to even be a chance of exiting her warm little hole. But it's too late to confront her about it now. You just have to wait until she climaxes again.

You have to admit: you do taste quite delicious. Turns out the girls whose mouths you pounded weren't pretending when they sucked off the semen from your tip. Your cheeks redden with the humiliation at that knowledge. However, there's a con in being aware of that. For example, it isn't so difficult anymore to lap at Minju's pussy. You willingly circle and dance your tongue inside her. It's fun to see her pleasured reactions.

When the opportunity presents itself, you pull your tongue out. Minju winces, but before she can voice out any frustration or order, you start to lick her labia back and forth. Her wide, shapely hips stutter. You have to take them in your hands and steady her to continue.

"Oh—mmmm! Fuck, such a good boy for mommy, eating her out so well!"

You would have been surprised at the compliment, but her silky voice never reaches your ears. Her thighs are compressing them too tightly for anything to be heard but wordless screams.

Her most erogenous part is her clitoris, clearly. She demandingly pushes that part of her center on your tongue. Twirl it at your tip, play with it, suckle it. Nibble at it to keep her on her toes. Show her how much you've tamed the brat in you, because once she did, it was apparent that there was no going back.

"Yes, that feels so good!" she cries. Her movements become more frantic and less graceful. It's like you're being waterboarded by a tsunami; she's a force of her own, a danger with the cleanest edge. "I'm gonna cum, baby boy! Mommy's gonna cum, she's gonna fucking cum all over your face---!"

When she does, it's like a sobering splash. Her screams symbolize the thunder, and the juices that squirt on your nose and mouth is the flood. There are no lifeboats anywhere to save you. Nor are there people that are going to. You just have to withstand the rain for a few more seconds

Close your eyes and wait for the storm to end. It takes a while to cease. You try to help yourself out by sticking out your tongue and catching her steady spray into your mouth, but you just choke on it. Minju finds her girl cum spilling down the sides of your lips and swirling in your throat amusing.

Through all that, her taste remains impeccable.

The stream stops. Minju's thighs are shaking. She slowly edges herself off your messy face. Her breasts heave with every heavy breath she takes. They're hypnotizing, but you file your eyes away from them. You have to remember that they belong to the cruel woman who told you to do away with yourself. This is still the same woman who used you. It doesn't matter if the only things you are appreciating in the moment are hr breasts; they still belong to her. She degraded and humiliated you in ways you never would have imagined.

Nudity is another form of art widely appreciated, for both aesthetic and gratification purposes. It returned and became popularized during the Renaissance and the Impressionism. Science was used to figure out how to create the right proportions for whoever is being sculpted, painted, or drawn. Mathematics was heavily involved, too. The golden ratio was used to present the figures in an ideal manner, whether the figures were of gods or historical icons.

You are glad it became popular through the years. You are glad at how normalized it has become for Minju's body looks exactly like another stunning sculpture. She may not have the golden ratio, but she has something even better than that. She's naturally curvy, naturally beautiful. Back in the day, they would have written sonnets about her.

She may be cruel, but she is quite stunning.

"We're not done yet."

The curator puts a stop to your daydreaming. Raised brows, fine creased lines on her forehead that scold you, Minju is flattered that you think this is over yet. It's quite entertaining to her, actually. You don't really think she's gonna give in after just a few sessions of fucking, do you?

Pocket your sore pride and face the challenge head-on. "What else is there to do?"

Her smile is haunting. "You're gonna find out soon. You might even like it."

-

The museum is closed today. There's a big sign outside with "CLOSED" plastered across the letters spelling "Now Open!". Minju had to shut its doors for the day due to your endless requests for a chance to have your works exhibited. Oh, if you knew what you had to do to get her to agree, you wouldn't believe it. You'd call it bullshit.

You and Minju clean yourselves up. There's no point in reusing her turtleneck; it's blotted with her squirt. And you have no business going out with a face drenched with the same liquid. So, while Minju gets into a change of clothes, you go to the bathroom and splash cold water into your face. You don't want to look in the mirror. You don't want to see the slut the man it reflects has become, because, if you were able to admit it to yourself, you'd say that you liked the way Minju treats you. You like the power she has over you that she achieved through such a short period of time.

But you can't say that. You refuse to.

Apparently, you were in the bathroom for too long. Minju's fist knocks three short sounds onto the door.

"You can't hide there all afternoon, babycakes!" she reminds you sweetly. She fires another five knocks. "Come out, come out!"

Roll your eyes with a tired huff. You weren't exactly planning to, but hey, that could work. She can't do anything about it but look stupid pounding onto the door like a maniac.

You get out. You find Minju dressed in a gray, sleeveless top with a jacket matching its color. She has undone her black hair and let it fall to her shoulders.

She gives you a wide, scheming smile. "Let's go?"

Minju does not wait for a reply. She simply takes hold of your wrist and pulls you through the swindling doors, colorful galleries, and parked cars. She leads you to her own vehicle. It's a modest black car that's been around for ages, but still works as if it were new. You can tell from the light rust on the knobs.

"Get in," Minju says. She already peeks at you from the rolled-down window. Gesturing to the empty passenger seat beside her with a tilt of her head, her brows rise and stay at their impatient height until you get into the car.

You only learn later that it's more than mandatory to have a seatbelt on when Minju is your driver.

There's that red light she easily breezes through. And another. Your eyes are wide. "What the fuck, Minju?" you yell. Your hands frantically fly to your seatbelt and fasten its buckle into place. Not without flying around, of course.

"What?" she asks, really not knowing what's wrong. "You need a water or something?"

Anddd a near miss with a bus. The honk of the horn is deafening. "Do you even have a license?"

"Ha, nope. This car isn't mine. It's my—hey, fuck you, too, you old shit!" Minju gives an angry driver who nearly collided with her sideview mirror the middle finger. When she turns back to you, she grins calmly. "Anyway, it was my brother's. He taught me to drive when I was eleven."

"Well, that explains it," you mutter to yourself sarcastically. And you'd think that since she learned from an early age, she'd drive better than most. That's her second deception of the day, and the twenty-third broken law.

The car swerves and spins into curved roads as if it were dancing. You're constantly on the edge of your seat. Minju, however, is unbothered. This isn't an out-of-place habit for her, breaking at least thirty traffic laws the moment the wheels of her car start rolling. Nor is it for the traffic guards in the middle of the roads, it seems. They yell at Minju with a a warning, but disregard it after a few seconds. How many almost-crashes did it take for them to realize there's no dealing with her?

You almost break into song of religious praise when Minju finally parks near her house. But it's too early to celebrate. God has fashioned this day unpredictably.

Her home is as large as a mansion. It's not exactly a mansion, of course, but the combination of paint and placing is satisfactory enough to pass as a modern house. It stands out in the suburban division like a sore thumb, if a sore thumb were fancier.

She throws open the door. The interior of her home is just as impressive as the exterior. Posters and drawings decorate the walls. The space in each room is wider than the first floor of your own home. You'd give in to jealousy if you weren't more surprised at the thing Minju is brandishing.

"Surprise, surprise," she says. She sticks it in your face for you to see it better, but it's too close for you to even understand what it is. It is only when she moves it back does it finally sink in.

A foretelling personification, really. It's a strap-on. Or is it a dildo? Oh, it's whatever you call a pink plastic shaped like dick. But your difficulty in naming what it is isn't the biggest problem you'll encounter this day. Oh, you have bigger fish to fry soon.

"What the fuck, Minju?" you ask in disbelief. Shake your head again and again, still not coming to terms with what she plans to do. "I'm not gay! I'm not getting fucked in the ass by—"

"I never said you were gay," Minju points out. She's good at that, finding Freudian slips in the middle of your sentences to turn against you."I just wanted to try fucking a guy's ass, that's all. And since I have you... I thought that today is the day."

"Minju!"

"Babycakes!" she says, with a grin that's a distorted mirroring of your worried frown. She grasps your chin and kisses you on the lips. "It'll be fine, I promise. You have nothing to worry about."

She really needs to stop calling you babycakes. It's annoying you already. But more than that, you don't trust her words. What if she's just using you again? What if she's lying to you, like she did when she said that she would think about taking your pieces in? When she's done, she'll surely throw you away like a trash bag, as if you were never really there, and replace you with a new and prettier one to dump everything she wants in.

But you find yourself walking to her bedroom. Slipping your jeans down. Putting them on the floor as Minju fastens the strap to her hips. Lying down on the bed and just waiting for it.

Wait, why the fuck is your dick hard?

There's a cold feeling on your asshole for a while. It's because of the lube Minju's lathering onto it, "for safety purposes," she says. "Damn, I'm pretty big! D'you think it'll be funny if I actually put a condom on the tip?"

But she doesn't, after an unamused roll of your eyes, and the pink tip penetrates your lubed hole. The intrusion is fought with the receiving hole's tightening. The sensation is weirder than anything you've felt before. Of course, you've never done this before, so you never could imagine what it felt like. But now, you discover that it's a sickly mix of pain and pleasure.

"Fuck, Min—"

"That's not the right word, honey," Minju corrects you. The drags of her cock in and out are slow. "Tonight, I'm not Kim Minju. I'm your daddy."

"Mmph! Please, Min— daddy," you whimper out. The word feels right when it slips past your mouth. "Daddy." Daddy, daddy, daddy. You're usually on the receiving side when your previous girls uttered it, but maybe it's actually fun to say it, too.

Minju's cock prods at your ass. It slips further inside as she giggles musically. "That's right. Open up for daddy, sweetheart~"

Even if, let's say, you refuse to, there's no other choice you can run to. You're on the bed, naked, with a woman whose hips wield a fastened dick. You can't escape.

Minju's strokes are almost loving. It's slow, sensual, and timed. She must have taken sympathy on you, for what might be the first time. Of course, her hand wraps around your own dick to provide an "everyday" stimulus, too. That, you enjoy, better than the pegging. You jerk into her hand with a clear need never spoken through words, but a series of helpless mewls.

"What a twitchy little cock," laughs Minju. She wraps her hand around it like a ribbon, and fastens it with quick, bold strokes. They're bolder than any step or curve you've drawn, any controversial piece you've made. "Your cock really likes daddy's dick, doesn't it? And her warm hand?"

You're leaning towards the latter as of now, but you nod anyway. What else can you do? Your virgin asshole can't do anything about it, your leaking cock can't do anything about it. Hell, your tears can't, either. But there's a secret joy formed inside of you at being under Minju's control, with nowhere to run or hide. It's sick, you know that, but you can't help what you feel.

Maybe you like being used and pegged by this harsh curator. Maybe you like her evil words, her tempting body, and her attitude that would make any grandmother die on the spot. Maybe you like the way she treats you like you're a particularly crude inconvenience in her way.

You're shaken by that realization. But what shocks you more is her hand slapping your ass cheeks hardly. You cry out, but the sound is quickly silenced by Minju's free fingers in your mouth.

"Shhh, quiet, baby," Minju coos softly. She leans over to kiss your back and neck. "I want to hear your cute cheeks slap together."

It's a sentence that can easily be used for comedic relief in a fucked-up sitcom. But to you, it's nothing but sexy. The way the words drip from her kissing lips just add to the hotness of her hand giving your ass a firm spank. Your bottom cringes, causing your legs to go weak. You've sunken onto the bed helplessly. At least it's a comfortable place to lie into. The bedsheets must be expensive. They have no other reason to be this silky and soft. Just how much is a curator paid? You might want to consider that career rather than go for being an artist.

Due to your fall, Minju takes your ass in a pronebone position. Sometimes, she isn't satisfied with your butt hole's gape, so she pries it apart with her own fingers. You squeal into the pillows. Pray the neighbors don't hear your scream when Minju takes matters into her own hands and slips a finger beside her strap.

Her strokes gain more strength as the present becomes soon. It's a sensation that you have no idea how to choose between liking and hating it. Your prostrate is constantly stimulated, and the brown walls of your butt are rubbed against, but there's the newness of it all. You aren't used to this. Part of you outright refuses to do it again, but the curious side of you is more than interested for another round. Maybe one or two more? You really wouldn't mind.

"P-please, please, daddy."

You start to beg of your own accord. Lewdly. Needily. You're starting to like this too much. With Minju corrupting your ass and her hand jerking you off, you accept your fate. Paintings don't matter anymore, just as long as it's Minju's cock lodged inside you.

[htchnr]

♰ BRUCE CAMPBELL CHARACTERS.

⭐️= 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛. 🫂= 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩. ❤️‍🩹= 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩/𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩. 💔= 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 𝙬/𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩. 💋= 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙬/ 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩. 🔥= 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙬/𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩. 💌= 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩. ⚠️= dead dove don't eat. 🔗= link posts.

✮ꜜ EXTRAS.

[🔗] Sam & Ash smut visuals.

COMFORT DRABBLES.

[🔥🫂] ASH WILLIAMS | yourself, just you | bad dreams had been creeping up on you after you, Ash and Pablo left for Jacksonville. so you try and relieve them by doing the only thing you think that might help ; Ash. 1,1k

[🔥🫂] ASH WILLIAMS | purest hell | continuation of 'yourself, just you' — the two of you have found sense of comfort in each other. not in the most healthiest of ways — but after all that you've both been through, who can really blame you two? 0,8k

[🫂] ASH WILLIAMS | unsure touches | all you need after a long day of a long week, is to lay in Ash's lap as he tries comforting someone for the first time. 1,1k

[🫂] SAM AXE | chamber of reflections | BAU!Sam x BAU!Reader — a heavy case leaves your mind wandering. maybe it's time to take some time off work. or, Sam comforts you while he lets you talk. 1,2k

[🫂] SAM AXE | butterfly's repose | BAU!Sam x BAU!Reader — you've got a complicated thing between you and food. Sam might not completely understand it, but he's there for you. 1,2k

✮ꜜ ASH WILLIAMS.

TEACHERS PET ; Professor!Ash x Student!reader.

[💋] PART ONE | meeting Professor Williams. 2,1k

[💋💌] ACCIDENTAL SLIP | requested ; you accidentally call Ash daddy, and he turns out to be really into it. 1,4k

LOOSE ONESHOTS/IMAGINES.

[🔥] HOT 'N STICKY | seeing Ash heaving and covered in blood just made you feel some kinda way. 0,9k

[💌⭐️] INTERSTATE LOVE | Ash teases you about your drawings of him. 1,2k

[⭐️] PERV!ASH HC'S | a collection of my thoughts on pervy old man Ash ;).

[💌⭐️] ANYTHING, DOLLFACE | perv!Ash offering to rub sunscreen into your back ;). 0,7k

[⚠️🔥] RUN AND HIDE | where Baal broke Ash's mind and he hunts you in the asylum — not without having some fun with you first before killing you. 1,4k

[⭐️💋] NEW FAVORITE ACTIVITY | Modern AU with AoD!Ash. who knew innocently watching tiktoks together would lead to this? 0,9k

[💌⭐️] APOCALYPSE | requested ; early morning softness with Ash. 0,8k

[⭐️] ROMANTICISED LIFE | painting your nails while high with Ash, legs draped across his lap. 1,3k

[💌⭐️] ONE AND ONLY | you and Ash getting high in his trailer, indulging in each other. 0,8k

✮ꜜ BRISCO COUNTY JR.

LOOSE ONESHOTS/IMAGINES.

[⭐️🔥] COMFORT OF HOME | a lazy, passion filled morning under the sheets with Brisco. 0,9k

[🔥] PREDICAMENT | when you find Brisco in a, compromising, position, you decide to make use of it.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

✮ꜜ SAM AXE.

CHECK UP ; Paramedic!Sam x Heavily Tattooed!reader.

[⭐️] PART ONE | meeting Sam after getting a nasty cut, needing a charming face and some help. 2,8k

[⭐️] PART TWO | bringing him the promised piece of cake, flirting as he checks how your cut's healing. 2,7k

[💋] PART THREE | Sam comes over to help you bake, but things don't go as planned. 3,2k

[⭐️] PART FOUR | the morning/afternoon after, making plans to actually go on a date.

ENJOY THE SHOW ; cuck!Jason Bly + reader x Sam.

[🔥] ENJOY THE SHOW | the job was simple — flirt with Bly to get him out so Sam could grab him. but after the petty fight you two had, you decide to get back at him. 3,4k

[🔥] OPEN UP WIDE | you don't know how you got Sam to agree to this — but here you are, in a hotel room with Bly tied to chair watching you, as Sam rails the living daylights out of you. 4,1k

CLOSE CALLS ; short steamy drabbles.

[🔥⭐️] REALLY SELL IT | while on a stake out, your cover is threatened. so you improvise, causing things to get more than a little steamy. 0,9k

[🔥⭐️] TIGHT HOLD | based s3 ep16 where Sam and Fi go to diffuse a bomb at a hotel — except now it's you and Sam instead, and things get steamy.

GOOD TIME GONE ; Bar Tattoo Artist!reader x Sam.

[⭐️] part one , [💋] part two.

PRETTY FOOL ; spy/ex gf!reader x Sam.

[💋] PART ONE | you break into Sam's apartment, surprising him when he gets home. the confrontation leads to exactly what you expected. 3,2k

[💋] PART TWO | breaking into his apartment again leads to remembering his past and what he's more than capable of.

LOOSE ONESHOTS/IMAGINES.

[⭐️] SOULED OUT ON YOU | stripper/sugar mommy!reader x Sam. Michael was always curious about what you looked like — so when Sam forgets something at your place, he tags along. 1,3k

[⭐️] PICK UP | after a long night at the club Sam picks you up, quite literally. 1,1k

[🫂💌] COMFORT OF HOME | taking care of Sam after he was held hostage and interrogated in s1 ep12. 1,1k

[🔥] FULL OF ME | you don't know why his outfit gets you going, but you don't mind it one bit. 0,9k

[🔥] SEE UR INSIDES | Sam and Michael let you act as bait in an interrogation. while cleaning up your and Sam can finally release the tension. 4,3k

[💌🔥] TAN LINES | after applying sunscreen, you ride Sam on your fancy lounge set. 1,4k

[sashi-ya]

How my Mina (and my bf's Soshiro) cosplay is going so far... The damn cannon isn't by far over (what you see is some of the pieces mapped, not fully glued/painted) I got conjuntivitis, I got several cuts and paint stains, I used FOUR LED strip lights for the damn cannon therefore I will be using THREE POWER BANKS. IF FOR SOME FUCKING SICK TWIST OF DESTINY I'M NOT WINNING THAT DAMN COMPETITION I'LL BE DYING. ACTUALLY, I AM DYING.

I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL NEVER EVER COSPLAY AGAIN. I need this shit ready by Saturday morning and I'm about to perish trying!!