*evil Cackling* - Tumblr Posts
HAPPY APRIL 3RD
Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS
:3
It would be fantastic and even fun if this happened in the show but taking into account the mediocre writing that the show has, I highly doubt that the writers would let something like this be done.
So is that just her own schedule and she was keeping it up to date with everything she knows about Adrien then? That’d honestly be a lot less creepy and a good explanation.
Still a bit stalker-ish having all that stuff about Adrien on there in the first place but it’s an improvement
Also that looks like the picture from the opening credits of Alya and Marinette where they have mustaches drawn on
It would be fantastic and even fun if this happened in the show but taking into account the mediocre writing that the show has, I highly doubt that the writers would let something like this be done.
So is that just her own schedule and she was keeping it up to date with everything she knows about Adrien then? That’d honestly be a lot less creepy and a good explanation.
Still a bit stalker-ish having all that stuff about Adrien on there in the first place but it’s an improvement
Also that looks like the picture from the opening credits of Alya and Marinette where they have mustaches drawn on
Snippet #7
Tw: none
“Is something the matter? You normally don’t like to stick around after a heist.”
The person across the rooftop looked up from their trance, focusing of center of attention back on their opponent. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
Hero dropped their fighting stance in an instant. “Thief, that isn’t like you either. What’s going on?” They stepped a little closer, careful not to invade their personal space, but also careful not to be too far away. They knew the thief would prefer the distance, but they needed to make sure they weren’t too distanced either. They’d bolt the first chance they could get.
“Nothing,” The other bit out. “Nothing at all. Look, just- just stop asking questions, all right? I’ll give you the van Gogh back just-” They trailed off, and Hero found themselves wondering what they were thinking about yet again. It must have been something important.
“I was told to retrieve a Monet, but I’ll take the van Gogh too, if you’re offering.”
“Fine. Take them both. I don’t need them anyway,” The thief slung a long tube from off their back and held it out in front of them. “Give me an hour to retrieve the Monet and come back. You know what? Forget it, I’ll just return the painting myself. I can leave it-” They trailed off, lost in their little world again.
Well, that was concerning. Thief, willing to give up a two paintings, both of which were valued at several thousands, if not millions? Just to get Hero to stop talking? It must be serious. They needed to know what was happening to them. Now.
“Thief,” Hero took two steps forward. “Thief, talk to me, please.” Another step. They were at arm’s reach now. “I can help you, but only if you let me. Let me help you. Please.”
The thief tensed but didn’t bolt, still holding the painting out expectantly. Their eyes shone, screaming worry, fear, but most importantly, trust.
“I’m- I’m not supposed to tell you anything,” They dropped the tube into Hero’s hands and backed away. “But come the museum roof in an hour and I’ll tell you everything.”
Picture Perfect Memory
I've been fighting with myself on posting this for the past month, so I'm just going to do it. I normally don't write this stuff, but something about being grabbed by the moment and flying away with it, ya know?
🔞 Minors Do Not Engage
In dedication to the lovely @angelicdavinci - who's work with her own muse leaves constant sparks in the brain ✨💕✨💕
Leo x Reader
Everyone is well into adulthood ages with this.
This was written with Bayverse in mind, but I do believe any iteration could work with this.
Warnings: Smut, Edging (lots of edging...I regret nothing), Heated first kiss, grammar mistakes (most likely)
Sapphire blue eyes stared wide-eyed at you from across the loft. The lights were set to dim and it allowed the blue-masked ninja to be silhouetted with the night sky of the city; god, this giant turtle was going to be the death of your brain with all the inspiration he gives you so nonchalantly.
His eyes roamed over your body once more and it was all you could do to keep your hands at your hips and your expectant stare set away from silent satisfaction. You couldn't help the twitch of a self-asserted proud grin when his eyes locked with yours and realized he'd been caught undressing you with just his eyes. With a clear of his throat, twice, he finally spoke, “Wh-what was that?” you barely caught the whisper of your name as he looked off, though he couldn't stop staring every so often.
You couldn't blame him, though. You were wearing his signature color; a sapphire silk robe, tied closed that ended mid-thigh with seemingly nothing underneath. Oh, if only he knew...
“I said,” you chuckled out and eased into a casual air to help calm him down, “can you do me a favor for a new painting project? I need to get some reference photos made, but the pose is...ah, difficult to accomplish with certain elements requested on the piece.”
Leo lifted a brow ridge and eyed you warily, “what sort of elements?”
Your lips pressed into a flat-line at his suspicious tone. Honestly, fair, given the circumstances he walked into on his unexpected visit.
“Before I say, I would like to reiterate that this is for a commission piece,” you raised up two hands to deliver your point, with an equally insinuated pointed stare, “okay?”
He snorted a laugh and finally turned back to you, his eyes finally showcasing ease and that spark you've grown to enjoy seeing from him. “Okay. What difficult elements has your latest client saddled you with?”
“Funny you use the word 'saddle',” you muttered, and before he could ask you to repeat yourself, you gave a beaming smile—all charm, no seduction, even a pretty-pretty please tone for good measure as you lead him to where your camera was pointed, “I need you to lift me up off the ground, please—“
“I'm sorry, what?” Shit, he crossed his arms; he is so much harder to convince when he crosses his arms.
You sighed in exasperation, “I need the weight of the cloth and feet to look a specific way, Leo—I've looked everywhere on the websites and reference packages I use on the regular, and there isn't a good combo for either or both. SO,” you clap your hands together, meaning business, “it's self-reference time, and you just happen to decide to pop in on an unannounced visit at the most perfect time to help.”
When he continued to stare down at you, an unreadable expression stagnant on his features, you clasped your hands together and gave him a pleading stare in return, “please? Pretty please? I'll-let-you-have-the-last-of-the-blueberry-cheesecake-pretty-pretty-please?”
After another second, he breathed a short laugh through his nostrils and smiled. Amusement was clear on his lips, though his eyes...they seemed to glow with something, but before you could pin that glow he unfolded his arms to brace his hands on his hips, “Alright, you tempted my tastebuds.” You gave a short victory hiss and small fist pump before he continued, “Is this going to be a lift under your arms? Waist?”
You waived your hand nonchalantly before motioning for him to remove the bulkier portions of his weapons. “A bit more complicated than that, but I'll walk you through it,” a thought struck you and you quickly went to check your camera settings and positioning while Leo placed his weapons on the table a few paces away.
With a hum, you calculated how long this might take and properly adjusted your camera settings and shutter time. When Leo walked back into view, it allowed you to adjust the angle for better quality and no head-chopping-off effects. You absentmindedly saw his lips move through the lens, but it wasn't until you saw him chuckle did you register he said something.
“Sorry, was concentrating,” with a final click and the timers sets, you walked back to him, “what'd you say?”
“What makes this so complicated if all I'm doing is lifting you up for real-time gravity's sake?”
You gave a small swallow as you stood before him once more. The pose description from the commission read through your mind's eye, and for some reason you just noticed how tall he was compared to you. Shit, you hope you didn't accidentally fuck up the camera angle. Maybe you should check it once more? No! No. You're stalling at this point, and you promised yourself you would be better about that this year.
So what if Leonardo has been your muse since you've met, and your crush for just shorter that time frame? You could do this with ease and nonchalance. Like always. For his sake.
Never mind the high sexual content of the comiss—ANYWAY.
“Sorry!” You blinked back to attention when he snapped in front of your eyes. He chuckled in amusement as you gathered your nerves, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh, “was mentally going over the pose description and...got lost in thought.” With a clearing of your throat, you reminded yourself of his original question and summoned every ounce of your willpower to retain ease of relaxation. For his sake. “It's a no-nude, sexually suggestive wall-pose, meant for a cover option for the client's latest romance novel.”
You had to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from laughing at his saucer-wide eyes and the blush that just exploded from his features. Fuck, you had no idea he could blush and goddammit he is so fucking adorable—the sound of the first shutter from your camera brought you back. Focus. You can do that. For his sake.
“I, uh...don't know if I can do that...?” His voice was calm yet hesitant, though his widened eyes and twitching fingers showed just how scared he was. At least, you think it was scared nerves. With an exhale through your nose, you gave a small smile and gently took hold of one of his hands.
“Hey, it's okay,” you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before gently squeezing his arm with your other hand, “it's just me; it's just us. We don't have to focus on the emotional side of it, just the posing.” You made a thoughtful look before you winced, “don't think you'd be able to do the specific emotion for the guy that was described, anyway.”
A chortle escaped the back of your throat as he struggled to not look offended at your words, “and, exactly, how was he described?”
You knew what he was suggesting with that question. And you couldn't help the endearing smile from spreading on your lips as he refrained from looking annoyed. God, he seriously was cute.
“So, I don't know what all you have going on with all this turtliness,” you said playfully as you motioned to all of him before grinning up at him, “but I highly doubt you are hiding wolf features that could be handy in this project.”
His eyes widened for a third time before he balked in a laugh, bracing his free hand suddenly against the wall behind you, “I'm sorr—what?” You shrugged, still holding the smirk as you watched him get it out of his system, “What is your clientele?” The shutter went off a second time, and you made a mental note to keep that specific picture for yourself.
“Leonardo. Lee. My dude. My muse,” you braced a hand on the arm that was next to your head before giving him a deadpan stare, “you really, really don't want to know that answer. Just know that their big bucks pay the bills and our penchant for expensive and extravagant desserts.”
His laughs died down and his sapphire eyes stared at you, not quite wide but still shocked. You raised a silent, questioning brow as you wondered what you'd said that stunned him into silence. Ah hell, was he imagining all the depravity you have to stifle through for commissions? Hell, if he only knew the half of it.
“What'd you say?” His soft whisper caught you off guard and you blinked. That...didn't sound like he was imagining the horrors of depraved, unhinged commissions.
You blinked once. Twice. And gave up on guessing, “I said a lot, Lee; can you give me a hint here?”
Suddenly, the hand that had been holding yours raised to gently cup your cheek. You froze, eyes widening similarly to how his were before, as you stared at the sapphire shining just inches before you.
“What did you call me?” His whispered words ghosted your lips, and just as suddenly your throat tightened.
Shit. What did you say, this time? Something good, maybe? Hopefully? Had to have been; the awe-struck wonder and painfully clear hope ringing in his eyes and voice, raw as silken honey, gave notion that you said something very good. Called him something heavenly.
As you went back on what you said and all the names you called him at the start, nothing rang out of the ordinary for you. Until you realized you said something extra among his general nicknames.
Your eyes widened further, the swallow in your throat clicking at the difficulty with how tightly it closed off, and you felt how hot your blush erupted all over your face, ears, and even down your chest. His thumb graced the apple of your cheek, seemingly following the spread of your blush as his eyes roamed your features. With a breadth, his eyes became hooded and he took a step closer; closing the space between you two as he stood up taller, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck. His thumb and forefinger cradled the base of your skull so comfortably, so perfectly, and with a gentle pinch he leaned your head back to look up at him in full.
“What did you call me, little bird?” His voice had dropped an octave, and with the added husk you nearly felt your knees lock.
You swallowed, heavily. Audibly. Heart thrumming in your ears as you felt the smallest, tiniest intake of his breadth caused his plastron to brush against your silk robe. You were suddenly aware of his closeness, suffocating and yet not close enough; of his touch, encroaching and subtly suggestive and yet not with enough pressure; of his eyes, steady and hopefully patient, yet not near as demanding as they could be.
The shutter went off a third time.
He blinked, and his one movement allowed you to take a stuttering breadth you hadn't realized you'd been holding. A hand relaxed on the upper edge of his plastron to hold yourself steady, eyes fixated on his once more. His sapphire gleams moved to watch your lips as you finally spoke, “My Muse.”
For a heart-stopping second, you felt the short, tension line between you two grow taught. At the next second, you breathed in a gasp that was quickly swallowed up; your silk covered back pressed hard against the cool of your wall as his body encompassed yours, fingers pinching just right to keep your head aloft, jaws slack, as he drank the air from your lungs with a hunger that you were daft to call a kiss.
Too suddenly and yet not fast enough, you felt his other hand caress from the wall, down your neck, shoulder, graze the side of your breast, and rest at your waist. Rest wasn't the appropriate word, as he kneed and stroked your waist and hip without moving further, but god it was becoming hard to think with how he held your lips captive against his; heated, hungry, consuming, possessive. As if he were not to live, breathe, for another second if he were to let go.
You became dizzy, lungs beginning to pinch from need of air. Your hands flew to his neck and gripped tight to his scale skin, nails dragging down with a whimper until you grasped desperately at the top edge of his plastron. You felt his plastron shudder against you before his breadth followed suit against your lips. He pulled back, barely an inch, allowing you a short reprieve before he dove back in even hungrier.
Your surprised squeal turned into an embarrassing moan when his tongue suddenly left a trail from your chin to the cleft edge of your upper lip; grazing your teeth and teasing the entrance of your mouth that left you a melted mess against his strong body. Your breadth staggered out, following his tongue as he pulled back, ending the kiss too quickly and leaving you wanton.
His dark chuckle tickled your ear when you felt him press against the pulse of your neck right behind it. “Are you going to sing for me, little bird?” You unconsciously tried to move your neck, to give him ample room, but he held you steady. “I think it's a possibility. Don't you?” His voice was filled with husk as he nudged the back of your ear with his beak. The hand cupping the back of your neck tensed as he simultaneously moved his other hand to brace against the outside of your thigh, raising it high with an effortless grip that slid his hand just shy under the hem of your robe. Your breadth staggered, blush deepening to an even dizzier effect when he stepped impossibly closer, fitting just right between your thighs.
He breathed in deeply against your ear before his tongue began working your neck in full. His hand knead into your thigh, simultaneously raising your leg subtly higher until you felt your knee graze the outer ridge of his shell. Fuck, if you felt yourself get any hotter, you were going to feel faint. It had been far too long since anyone touched you with such attentions, let alone attentions you've wanted from any said person.
A moan vibrated against your throat as he licked from your clavicle to your chin. Your own hitched moan of his name pressed against his opened mouth when he nearly stole another hungry kiss, your fluttering eyes locking with his glazed, blown eyes. God, there was hardly any sapphire showing—how could he go from adorable to hot—
You barely had time to gasp when you were suddenly lifted, arms wrapping around his neck in shock before his mouth devoured yours once more; tongue teasing the inside of your lips, barely grazing the edges of your teeth, leaving you a groaning mess. His hand slid to the cress of your thigh and held firm, holding you aloft one-handed as he pressed his body firm, almost full weight, against yours and flush against the wall, stealing your breadth in multiple ways that squeezed your lungs so good.
A guttural vibration against your chest made the weighted and breathless sensations all the more heavenly as your body vibrated in response. Your hips twitched suddenly, as much as they could, repeatedly as the vibrations from his chest continued and god—he had you in a helpless mess; unable to move, completely pinned and limp against him as he held you aloft in his strong hands, leaving not even enough room between you two for your hips to fully grind against his waist. A desperate moan rang into his mouth as you realized you were as much his puppet, his doll, as he was your muse.
You couldn't find a single fiber in your being that was upset about that. Not when you were already feeling so edged, so good, with him barely having touched you.
He suddenly stopped everything, frozen against you, and you wanted to scream in frustration; to beg and demand him to continue, but even his stilled mouth held yours captive. When his hand at the cress of your thigh purposefully brushed against fine lace instead of bare skin, you realized why he froze.
When you opened your eyes at his continued stillness, you felt yourself become still as a statue. His blown eyes bore into you; so many emotions passed within that intense, heavy stare and yet you could not name a single one. A deep seeded part of you was filled with enough dark curiosity that you didn't feel deft to explain yourself under his gaze, even if he freed your lips to do so.
His hand ghosted the lace as it rose higher, higher, and remained on the lace as he maneuvered his hand to your lumbar and nearly lifted your silk robe completely bare from your legs. Lace was still felt at your lower back, and a single finger stroked upward towards your waist, and when lace was still felt he finally broke the stilled kiss apart with a resounding smack to look down, as if he possessed x-ray vision to see through your silk robe and both your pressed bodies to see the secrets that you were hiding. It was enough to elicit a small chuckle from you, one that was cut short when his dark eyes snapped back to you. You bit down your chuckle, but there was no helping the smile to die down.
“Did you plan this out, little bird?” His husk-filled voice vibrated in your chest, leaving a moan stuck in your throat.
You supposed that was a fair assumption. But, really. He should know who he's talking to at this point.
“My muse,” you whispered, breathless, and did not miss how his breadth caught at the new petname, “am I really someone as suave as that? Be honest.”
He stared at you, really looking at you. Mussed up, breathless, flushed to dizziness, and absolute putty in his hands. And exhaled a short laugh against your face, “no,” he leaned in and nuzzled the side of your jaw with his beak, “but you definitely had me fooled.”
With two flicks of his wrist and a single step back, you felt your robe give way. Your eyes flashed to his raised head as he looked down; as much as you wanted his weight pressed up against you again, you wanted to see his reaction to your chosen outfit that was only supposed to peek at your shoulder for the photo references.
For the fourth time that night, his eyes widened, though there was no sapphire to be seen among the whites. With open, unabashed awe, Leonardo stared down at your sheer, floral printed lace body suit; extremely fine lingerie that was paper thin and did not hide anything. Gooseflesh arose across your exposed front; the body suit exposing your breasts in a deep v-cut that ended just above your naval and barely covering your nipples, which hardened into pebbles against the harsh floral embroidered print of the sheer lace.
But what you knew what got him caught up, what nearly had him drooling was the bright blue color—the exact same as his mask. You knew no matter how many times you'd be able to tell him, from this moment on he would never believe that you owned this item of clothing prior to having met him. And a heavy part of you didn't feel the need to ever correct that assumption, whether he would share it or not.
Speaking of heavy...
With gentle touches to his cheek, you were able to drag his attention from your body and back to your eyes; he finally took a breadth that you just realized he had been holding. With a wide smile, you nosed his beak, “I thought you were going to make me sing, my Muse?”
Instantly, the vibrations in his chest continued and a breadth later, his body weight was pressed back onto yours. You gasped, sighed out all-too-happily with that wide smile; his hand lowered back to your thigh, now half on your ass and gripping so tightly you knew you were going to bruise before morning. A sound erupted through his vibrations, what sounded like a purr and yet held a different note and rhythm entirely.
Your sigh turned into a loud, vocal moan when he took your throat into the entirety of his mouth and pressed his teeth just enough for pressure; his vibrations and fast churring adding a sensation you never knew you missed, yet needed as it caused your vocals to vibrate out. His tongue pressed further pressure against the front of your throat, squeezing your vibrating moan to cut off every so often.
Tears from overwhelming, amazing sensations were felt at the edges of your eyes as he slowly released your throat. You barely caught the sight of a grin in your peripheral when your hips attempted another frenzied twitch when he pressed impossibly closer. Your lips moved against his when he spoke the words that would have you broken forever:
“My little bird, I'll make you come so hard that you'll forget how to swallow.”
Oh hey Cecelia, you look like you're having a nice uninterrupted peaceful day, mind if I just.. -
*turns her into a cat*
Cecelia: *unamused annoyed glare*
Evilly gets this up to 100 notes
doppelgänger