#it was really fun until i have to draw their really extra outfits D:

[bluemoon-fever]

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir. 

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.” 

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely. 

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases. 

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

[tmnt-reticent]

WE TIED‼️‼️‼️

I’m gen so excited that we tied, it’s gonna be so fun going through the competition with No Crime Only Brooches‼️‼️💪💪💪

Since we tied, I have extra incentives for y’all!!! I won’t have time to draw the NCOB x Reticent piece until tomorrow but for now, here’s the Season 2 Part 2 designs!!!!

I never really mentioned it but Season 1 takes place in late spring, Season 2 Part 1 takes place in fall and Season 2 Part 2 takes place in winter so that’s why April and Casey have just slowly been bundling up more and more across the ref sheets cghvgcbjhv

ALSO‼️‼️‼️ THE TURTLES ACTUALLY HAVING SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT GEAR??? Insane fr!! Leo finally let them go off 😌😌✨✨💅💅💅 Leo himself was reluctant to really change his outfit but the others made a good few changes!!! Mikey will be changing his outfit pretty much completely every half season so uh get ready for that- guy is experimenting! It’s gen so funny to me how technically spoilerly this colour palette for Mikey has become I gen love it (I know that makes no sense but dw about it >:)) )

Might post a non-spoilery dissection of all these designs when I have the time so look out for that‼️‼️💪💪💪

Also, here’s the shell references‼️‼️💪💪💪

There’s two other Donnie battle shell designs but I can’t reveal either yet so for now here’s his Early Season 2 Part 2 battle shell!!! (Aka the one he’s wearing in the ref sheet :D)

Thank you guys for tying Reticent and No Crime Only Brooches in the @tmntausummit ‼️‼️‼️💪💪💪 I’ll be back next round with more propaganda and incentives >:))))

[marshmallowloves]

🧵🎵🩺🕯️ for Cordula!! (@frankmillerturnonyourlocation :D)

@frankmillerturnonyourlocation

HELLO FRIEND I am so sorry I got to this so late 😭 I was gone for the whole week and my brain's kinda fried... but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things again skjdfg okay umm! Cordula! Haven't thought about her in a minute actually... or a billion sdjfghdf lemme see if I can't come up with some answers for you 👀

🧵Thread: What would you/your self-insert wear in the source your f/o is from? It can be multiple outfits or just one! Bonus: Do you have a weapon? If so, describe it or show it!

oh wait hang on this actually gave me the perfect opportunity to update/draw a new ref for her!

I've tried to design her a couple times, but she still always had some sort of white dress and red ribbons. I'm really liking how she turned out this time!

Also, I've always pictured her using the Angel Bow from the game! Maybe some other time I'll play around with the design to fit her more specifically, but honestly, it's quite fitting already~ (sorry this is just the whole AR card, it's the biggest image I could find kjdhfg)

🎵Music: If you/your self-insert had a theme song, what would it be? Bonus:An extra song that fits you/your self-insert and your f/o!

honestly I kinda struggle thinking of songs for my self inserts specifically -u-;; it's hard to find lyrical songs that I like! Though for both Cordula and Pit, I will say I have thought about Stupid Cupid a non-zero amount of times kjfhg

🩺Doctor: What is the worst injury that you/your self-insert has sustained in canon? If so, what was the cause and did you recover? What was your f/os reaction?

I have not actually thought about this before 🤔 so I kinda just. made this answer up just now for this ask sdkjfg

Cordula isn't as strong as Pit, so when Mistress Aphrodite suggests that she help him and Lady Palutena when Hades starts causing problems, Cordula does her best to lend him her (largely non-combative) support without getting too close. But after Hades tricks the humans into fighting each other, her job becomes much more dangerous - she's tasked with trying to soothe the warring humans by hitting them with special arrows crafted by the goddess of love herself.

During one of these trips below, as she's frantically flying about and trying to pacify as many people as she can, one of her wings is struck by a stray projectile. She loses control and tumbles to the ground, narrowly avoiding getting trampled in the chaos...but soon, one of the frenzied humans catches up to her and backs her into a corner, thinking that they could use an angel like her to turn the battle in their favor. But before they can hurt her further, Aphrodite sends some of her power to her little cherub, which dazes the human long enough for Cordula to escape to a safe place where Aphrodite could retrieve her.

Naturally, since they had known each other for a while at this point, Pit worried for her until he knew she was safe back at her home (and encouraged by both Aphrodite and Palutena to help while she recovered... but he really didn't need to be encouraged to do that anyway dkfjgh). But they both understood that hers was an important job she still had to do, so they got right back into it... after they made each other promise to be careful dkjfg

🕯️Candle: Do you/your self-insert have a secret? If so, what is it and why do they keep it to themselves? Is it dark and mysterious or something small, yet impactful?

Cordula's only real secret, which is barely a secret to anyone at this point, is how she feels about Pit. Aphrodite was the first one to learn it - naturally, as the goddess of love and Cordula's boss, she'd know when her little love cherub was...well, in love ksjdfhg

But the way Cordula would act around Pit the first few times they spoke to each other - kind and sweet as always but clearly held back by an unusual shyness - didn't escape Palutena's keen eye either. The two goddesses have lot of fun not-so-subtly trying to set their favorite angels up together and watching the awkward magic unfold as Cordula and Pit continuously fail to realize they like each other 😂

[chronologiical]

my lostbelt 4 mvps!

[nights-at-crystarium]

This’s possibly peak self-indulgence: translating my wolgraha into another universe where I’ve spent 10+ years being one of THE guys (also the most humble guy apparently)

Wakfu meets FFXIV. For now it’s just a fun AU idea that I don’t plan to expand (i.e. I physically have to smack myself to stop thinking about it :’DD), mostly because I’m busy with the comic prep work. But hope someone out there likes crossovers as much as I do C: Random thoughts and comments under the cut.

- The class choice’s pretty straightforward: huppermage because they wield the light powers, ecaflip's even more obvious why, however, there’s an extra aspect that I find hilariously fitting: the gambling. risky nature.

- It all really started when I rewatched the Dofus movie (for like the fifth time) and remembered how much I love Bakara.

- Visual notes: I picked the female huppermage ears and the ecaflip card-skirt-thing (?? sorry I legit don’t know how to even google that clothing element) because Ankama’s weak and boys deserve to be cute too :V

- Vivi’s outfit’s based on this one, which, in turn, is a very loose interpretation of the ironworks gear. Probably not the last version until I’m satisfied with the design. This's his default battle outfit so I’ve gotta flesh it out.

- Their personalities are slightly different from original because Wakfu’s inherently more lighthearted. Basically they aren’t THAT fucked up. Raha would show more of his ARR self and Vivi, well.. The only thing that normally keeps him chill is his elezen body :’D

- I indeed went ahead and made Raha in Wakfu. But he’s a cra-ha because why stop there, let’s indulge in my race swap as well.

- Last but not least, I thought it was impossible to have more fun drawing these two than I already do normally, turns out I was wrong. Drawing this made me stupidly happy Q_Q <3

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?” 

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?” 

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien, 

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!” 

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce

[fabricdragondesigns]

CW:  Discussion of sizes, clothing fit, and patterns v ready to wear (other than the 1st item not really in any order)

1. first of all, if you are new to sewing you need to memorize this  *Your pattern size has nothing to do with the size you wear 'off the peg' or 'ready-to-wear.*

0nothing

not at all

no, i don't care if they say something that "sounds like" ready to wear sizing.

2.  you need to take your measurements.you do not have any idea HOW to take your measurements if you are not used to buying patterns, because everyone has taught you incorrectly.    

2a. UNLESS patterns say otherwise they are fitted for a 5'6 woman with a 'B' cup size.  You want to  buy  the pattern based on your "high bust" (above your girls)  if you are larger than a B cup, and then make adjustments.  if you do not do that you will buy for the "bust measurement" and it wont fit your shoulders.  many patterns have pre-done adjustments for  C and D cups, but THEIR idea of a C and D cup may not be yours- check the fit.    

2b.  for the love of Gd do all your fittings and measurements in the same bra- or same type of bra- that you will actually be wearing the pattern with.  a strapless bra v a regular bra will change your fit.

3. worth its own bullet point:  all patterns are designed with ease (extra space for it so you can move) and/or  'design ease (how it fits, like a 'loosely fitted' top is not as tight as a 'slim fit')   

3a. If you are sewing a skirt with a snug waist, but full swishy gathers... it will fit over a wider range of hip sizes than the pattern says.      

3b. you buy your pattern based on the part of the body that is a critical fit.  if it drapes off my bust and then  is "A" line  (flares out) it doesnt matter much  if my waist is a bit larger than the pattern.    

NOTE:  if you have an *extreme* difference of size between your waist bust and hips, you may need to worry about this, but if its just a little off the measure in a loose fitting place?  dont worry about it.

4. did i mention your pattern sizes are not your RTW sizes?  i did? cool... have i mentioned that your RTW sizing is an arbitrary number that varies widely between brands anyway?you knew that? good.

4a.  fit of a pattern can also vary between vastly different brands.CHECK THE PATTERN AGAINST YOUR MEASUREMENTS because while the 'big three' you see in the fabric stores may all be similar,    EVEN those have specialty lines that use different sizing... and if you get into ANY of the other designers?  Totally different sizes.

5. you need to make a 'muslin' or test fit (pin fit) the pattern at the very least.   

5a. no, seriously you do... at least until  you have made enough similar patterns that you can check the fit against your existing work.    

5b. if you cannot bring yourself to "waste" the sewing on  a muslin?  at least either buy a 'fun fabric' to make a trial run in, or buy double of your fashion fabric.    

5c. ok, but don't swear at me when you find out you need to replace that 'perfect' fabric because the pattern doesnt fit, and now you cant find anymore.

6. If you expect to launder the clothes? you need to wash the fabric before you cut and sew it.    

6a. this is also where you keep a close eye on red, purple, blue and other super saturated colors for any sign that they are 'bleeding' and likely to end up making all your white blouses a weird pinkish color in the next wash.   

6b. some fabrics (cough linen and linen blends) fray and can generate a lot of lint- especially on the first wash. this is why many people serge or zig zag stitch the cut ends of the fabric before washing.

7. look at the pattern and choose fabrics wisely.  That  pleated swishy skirt may look really cool in a crisp  stiff fabric, but it wont be a SWISHY skirt... it will stand out away from your body...  this may be what you want, but it may not.Likewise that crisp jacket detail will look sad and wilted in a soft  drape fabric.

8. pattern photos (the models) often show the patterns in fabrics that do not help you understand the pattern at all- look at the black and white line drawing that shows you the seam lines.    

8a. also, yes, they choose really weird  fabrics for some of the photo shoots- no we don't know why.

9. seriously please get  any shame or obsession with "sizes" out of your mind (in general but in sewing especially).    

9a. no one will see your size number: it doesn't appear on the back of your dress, but if it makes you feel better put a label in everything you sew  with whatever size you like.    

9b seriously? sizes are not even consistent in RTW, and they are not the same across different pattern lines.  the whole point of sewing is to make the clothes fit you.    

9c. honestly you can get professionally made clothes labels and put whatever size you want on them. a friend who made clothing actually named her sizes after the fit models she used,  so Roseamund and other names were *sizes*... its cool.  your clothes should be YOU sized.

10. pattern making and alteration sounds scary, but even if you dont want to do it at all? some things are really easy.    

10a. some patterns  come with interchangeable parts, so once you make one outfit that fits, you can wip up a dozen with different necklines, sleeves, amounts of swish in the skirts, length in the pants, pockets...    

10b. certain changed are easy- peasy.  change the fabric  (remember the crisp versus draped fabrics?), make it dressy or casual,  changing pleats into gathers (or vice versa) add trim, pockets, embroidery, lengthen or shorten it.    

10c. some changes are a bit more skilled, BUT STILL WITHIN BEGINNER capabilities, just  take your time!add an over-layer of lace (in whole or in part), add width to a sleeve and make it a dolman or a flutter sleeve, add width to the skirt, changing it from a straight skirt to a full skirt, add a colored insert, or 'slot seams' (not as hard as it sounds, trust me)

you can LITERALLY make hundreds of outfits out of a good basic pattern set by making minor adjustments!

[dweetwise]

yes hello, i’m back on my riconti bullshit again, this time with a cute prompt fill from @dailyau by @hcpelesshcney about fire alarms and sharing a blanket ❤️

i’m also trying something new with splitting a fic into chapters!

ship: felix x ace warnings: briefly mentioned internalized homophobia word count: 3700

[next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 1)

It's surprising just how scattered the human brain becomes during a crisis.

When Felix was woken from his restless sleep in the hotel bed by a blaring fire alarm, he'd bolted out of the bed and scrambled out into the hallway without second thought. He'd probably even left the door to his room wide open, with his wallet, passport, phone and laptop all neatly arranged on the desk for anyone to walk by and steal.

And now he's standing in the parking lot in the chilly late summer night, dressed in nothing but his pajama pants and a t-shirt. His socks were drenched as soon as he stepped outside, running straight into a puddle while hurrying to get away from the potential fire.

At least he's not alone in the stressful predicament. There's plenty of other people around, looking just as lost and dazed as him, having been forced to evacuate the hotel in the middle of the night. Most have been sensible enough to bring their jackets and shoes, a couple of kids even huddling beneath a hotel duvet.

And since there's no sign of a fire or even any smoke, Felix feels like an idiot for not having the foresight to bring something to warm him up.

The firefighters have just arrived at the scene and are preparing to search the building for the source of the alarm. Felix tries not to shiver even more as he relents to the fact that they're still going to be stuck out there for quite some time.

The crowd in the parking lot is loud, families and partners gossiping amongst themselves, some people even arguing with the staff members about ruining their vacation. Felix wishes they'd just shut up, more than happy to forget this ever happened if he'd just get to curl back under the warm covers of his bed instead of freezing out here.

This trip just kept getting worse. Not only had he been forced to come on only a day's notice, taking over Lauren's business trip across the Atlantic when she'd unexpectedly caught a cold. He’d also had to take a shitty flight route with two extra stops, and his last flight had been no less than six hours late.

When he’d finally arrived at the hotel and started trying to sleep off the massive jet lag after barely getting any sleep on the plane, he'd been rudely awakened by an emergency. And now, to add insult to injury, he’s gone from the threat of burning to death to freezing to death.

“Hey,” a voice says from right beside him, making Felix jolt in surprise over being distracted from his internal pity party.

He sees a man standing next to him, wrapped in a hotel-issued blanket, looking up at him with curious brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

Felix racks his brain for if he knows this man or not, but draws up a blank, the tiredness and cold making his thoughts feel sluggish. The man is shorter than Felix and looks a little older, if the laugh lines and grey hair are anything to go by.

“You look cold,” the man says. “Wanna share my blanket?”

As the man lifts the fabric just the slightest bit in invitation, mortification hits Felix. Not only is his shivering noticeable enough to warrant someone taking pity on him, he's being offered physical contact from a stranger.

Isn't it a weird thing to offer, especially to another man? Does he somehow know that Felix is gay? Is he making fun of him? Or is it just an American thing? Wouldn't it be weirder for Felix not to accept, since the man has noticed how much he’s freezing?

“Alright,” the man says when Felix isn't replying, lowering the bedding in surrender. “My bad, I just thought—"”

“Yes,” Felix says, interrupting him.

“Uh…” the man says, understandably confused by Felix's social awkwardness.

“Yes, I want to sh-share,” Felix says, another full-body shiver wracking his body.

“Oh! Sure,” the man grins happily, and then he's suddenly very close, shoulder bumping against Felix's chest, and a corner of the blanket is thrown haphazardously over Felix's shoulder.

“T-thank you,” Felix stammers, both from the nerves and the cold, grabbing the soft cotton fabric and pulling it tighter against himself.

And causing the stranger to stumble even closer from the momentum.

“Sure, don't mention it,” the man grins, like he's not now pressed against a stranger's side from shoulder to hip.

Embarrassed as Felix feels, both the blanket and the person attached to it are warm. Felix has to stop himself from sighing blissfully as the other's body heat starts to warm him up, slowly working away at the chill in his bones.

“Well, since we're gonna be stuck here for a while,” the man muses. “My name's Ace.”

“F-F-Felix,” Felix manages through clattering teeth.

“I'd shake your hand, but I think we're past that stage already,” Ace jokes, and then offers a pleased grin as Felix huffs out a surprised laugh through his nose. “In any case, it’s nice to meet you, Felix,” the man looks up at him and smiles, and Felix's poor, gay heart skips a beat.

Yeah, this is definitely preferable to freezing to death.

“I wonder how long they'll take to find the cause this time,” Ace starts conversationally, while pulling out his phone from the nest of blankets. He sets to what looks like writing a text to someone, not seeming the least bit bothered by their predicament.

“You don't seem very nervous,” Felix observes.

“Not my first rodeo,” Ace looks up and grins. “Probably someone just smoked inside and tripped the alarm. Happens a lot in hotels.”

“D-d-do you travel? A lot?” Felix asks, partly do distract himself from the cold while he gets his body heat up, partly to divert Ace’s attention from his phone.

“You could say that,” Ace says. “What about you? Here on business?”

“Yes,” Felix says, with no small amount of annoyance over being reminded he still has work tomorrow. “Thankfully my meeting isn't until the afternoon.”

“Glad you can get your beauty sleep,” Ace says.

“And hopefully get rid of the jet lag,” Felix comments with a tired sigh.

Ace hums in acknowledgement before going back to his phone message. Felix tries not to take it personally; he knows he's not that interesting to talk to.

Ace is so warm, and it's a little awkward being pressed this close, but embarrassingly enough, Felix finds himself drifting even closer. Ace smells like whiskey and cheap cologne, but somehow, it's oddly comforting. He'd probably been drinking last night—well, technically tonight. Thankfully, he doesn't seem drunk, as Felix doubts he would have had the patience to deal with alcohol-induced rambling.

“Whiskey man, I see,” Felix comments. When Ace looks up from his phone in surprise, Felix realize how weird it is for him to admit to smelling the man.

“I reek that bad, huh?” Ace grins, taking the comment in stride.

“I didn't mean—” Felix flounders to explain.

Damnit, he should just give up on trying to make conversation.

“Wow, lighten up,” Ace says and elbows him playfully under the blanket, adding even more physical contact to their already borderline inappropriate situation.

Felix tries to ignore the fluttering in his gut when he feels Ace's hairy forearm brush against his own. This is more physical contact than he's gotten from another man… probably ever.

“Yeah, I had a few drinks earlier. I'm more of a wine man, but…” Ace seems to ponder. “Sometimes, you've got to try new things.”

Like huddling under a blanket with an attractive stranger, Felix considers.

Suddenly, he almost regrets the blanket blocking his view from seeing more of the man. His body feels firm against Felix's, and his shoulders look defined, though that could just be an illusion from the thick fabric covering them.

“What’s your poison?” Ace asks, following Felix's awkward silence.

“I don't drink much,” Felix lies, like he hasn’t been going through his father’s old liquor collection at an alarming rate for the past year or so. “Uhm… whiskey, I guess. And bourbon.”

He could really, really go for either one right now. Not only would the drinks warm him up, they'd also make him act like an actual human being instead of the stiff robot impression he's currently doing.

“Huh,” Ace comments.

“What?” Felix asks, trying not to get defensive.

“Nothing! I would have pegged you as a beer guy, is all,” Ace muses. “Maybe that's just the accent, though.”

“Sorry,” Felix apologizes. Now hyperaware of his bad pronunciation and extremely German accent, he tries to bury his face deeper into the blanket in embarrassment.

“Naw, hey, come on,” Ace turns toward him as much as the cramped space allows him to. “Your English is amazing! The accent only adds charm.”

Felix looks at Ace's encouraging smile and tries not to think too much about their thighs now pressing together. Ace is clearly waiting for him to say something, but all Felix can focus on is his warm body and striking features.

“Where are you from?” Felix asks instead, trying to place the hint of an accent he thinks he hears.

“Huh. Good catch,” Ace smiles, seeming surprised. “Guess!”

Felix flushes and looks at Ace's eagerly grinning face. It's nighttime, but Ace's skin seems darker than his own, and his features look Mediterranean, reminding Felix of countless business trips to Spain. But the accent…

“Italy?” Felix suggests, and Ace's smile somehow widens even further.

“Close!” Ace says. “Argentina.”

“Ehm…” Felix furrows his brow in confusion, thinking that surely, being a whole continent and world sea off doesn't exactly count as "close".

“My family hails from Italy, and it's my native language,” Ace explains. “So it was a really good guess!”

“Thank you…?” Felix says awkwardly.

“I'd ask what you were doing when the alarm went off, but…” Ace pauses, glancing up at his disheveled hair. “From your outfit choice and the bedhead, I'd put 50 bucks on 'sleeping'."

“You'd be correct,” Felix murmurs, self-consciously poking his hand out from under the blanket to run through his tousled hair. “I'm not very interesting.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that," Ace grins. “If, uh… you don't mind chatting to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Felix says, hoping he doesn't sound too eager, happy Ace deems him interesting enough to talk to instead of whoever he was texting earlier.

They spend some twenty minutes chatting about mostly insignificant things. But as much as Felix usually hates small talk, he now welcomes it, because Ace is asking him interesting questions instead of just talking about the weather. He appears to genuinely care about Felix's story, and Felix might end up sharing a little too much, from the work stress and business trip he didn't even want to come to, all the way to his relationship that ended a few weeks ago.

Ace seems friendly and pleasant, taking Felix's awkward pauses and nervousness in stride, filling in the silences with stories of his own. Felix hears a lot about the different places he's traveled to, along with some hotel horror stories that make him feel much better about the current fire alarm situation. He manages a few laughs, some merely polite, but some genuinely amused at Ace's over-the-top storytelling.

Eventually, Ace's phone beeps again and he excuses himself and engrosses himself momentarily in the screen, and this time, Felix welcomes the brief break in socializing.

He realizes just how nice this is. It feels like a stroke of luck that only a few short weeks after ending his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and coming out in the process, he'd meet a handsome stranger this eager to cuddle up to him.

Not cuddle up—share a blanket, Felix mentally berates himself.

He glances at Ace out of the corner of his eye, seeing his side profile illuminated by the dim glow from the phone screen. Felix never really considered what his type would be, apart from the all-encompassing "men" that he'd only recently come to accept about himself. But taking in Ace's defined features and the smile that seems to be a permanent part of his face, he's starting to get an idea.

Quickly looking away before Ace catches him staring, Felix suddenly feels almost too warm. He shouldn't get ahead of himself; even though It feels like Ace is being a little too friendly, he hasn't actually made a move, seeming happy just with chatting to kill time.

Felix briefly toys with the idea of placing his hand on Ace's hip in a loose embrace, just to test the waters. He'd never be that brave, but if he was, he'd at least know for sure, even if it would probably end in Ace being disgusted and kicking him out of the blanket cocoon.

But… maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d smile even wider and return the gesture, just as eager as Felix to get even closer. Felix would wrap his arms around him, and they'd stand there cuddling and sharing even more body heat, maybe even kissing—

Shit. This is exactly what his therapist said he shouldn't do, the term "excessive daydreaming" flashing in his mind.

“Sorry,” Ace is saying, turning back to face him and pocketing the phone, completely oblivious to Felix's internal dilemma. “Where were we?”

“I, uh,” Felix stammers.

Was just thinking about kissing you.

“Did I tell you about the time a bunch of college kids decided to set off fireworks in the hotel room next to mine?” Ace offers, saving Felix from floundering for a topic.

“What—why would they…?” Felix asks.

“Well, I'd just gotten back from this extravagant New Years party—” Ace excitedly starts telling yet another story, and Felix keenly starts listening in.

Ace seems to be completely in his element, getting lost in talking about just how fancy the party was, followed by a dramatic retelling of some very incredulously sounding explosions that turned out to be fireworks. Felix keeps listening raptly, not entirely sure about the accuracy of the story, but enjoying seeing the other so happy. The blanket occasionally shifts as Ace tries to gesture with his hands to add to the narration, only to remember that he can't, looking sheepish every time.

Felix has never met someone with such effortless charisma. Ace's voice is rich and pleasant, and Felix briefly zones out while he imagines it talking him to sleep.

It's stupid, and he knows it. He's only known the man for half an hour, and even "knowing" him is pushing it. Felix is only in the country for two more days, and he’s very aware that pursuing anything would be pointless.

But he also knows that given the chance, he wouldn't say no to seeing Ace again. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, the narrowly averted emergency, or simply being far away from home and realizing nobody would ever find out. Either way, he’s feeling more adventurous than usual, the adrenaline in his veins and butterflies in his gut keeping his tired body on high alert.

Too bad he's deathly afraid of rejection and would never dare to ask if the other is interested.

Suddenly, there's the screech of a PA system, and Ace stops mid-sentence, both of them turning to look at a firefighter speaking into a megaphone.

“The fire has been extinguished and the building is now safe. Please return to your rooms,” the fireman announces.

The horde of people immediately start flocking towards the hotel entrance at the same time, creating an annoyed crowd of freezing, grumpy people and managing to clog the entryway immediately.

“I wonder what the cause was,” Felix ponders out loud, not making an effort to move toward the commotion and get stuck between the shoving, complaining people.

“Who cares? We get to not freeze our asses off anymore!” Ace exclaims gleefully.

And Felix realizes they no longer have a reason to stay huddled up together. Reluctantly slipping away from under the blanket, he feels a disappointed pang in his chest over how happy Ace sounds to get rid of him.

“Thank you for lending your blanket,” Felix says, handing his side of the fabric back over to Ace and trying not to shiver as the cold of the night hits his warm skin.

“My pleasure! Thanks for keeping me warm!” Ace quips cheerfully, wrapping the item tighter around himself.

“Ehm… you as well,” Felix says, looking away so Ace doesn't see his face heating up.

“Come on, let's get you inside!” Ace prompts, and then he leans into Felix and shoves him lightly with a blanket-clad shoulder.

It's clearly in an intent to encourage Felix to move, but it still makes newfound hope blossom in his chest. They’re no longer forced to tolerate each other if they don't want to freeze, but Ace still seems far from repulsed by him.

“Right,” Felix says, starting the short trek to the hotel entrance that has thankfully cleared up from people.

“So…” Ace drawls, easily falling into step next to him. “Can I have your number?”

Felix glances at him and blinks in confusion. Is… is Ace asking him out? Or just being polite? Is he going to ask to be added on Facebook too, like all the weird colleagues Felix has met on business trips once and then never heard from again?

“For...?” Felix manages to ask when they arrive at the entrance, reaching for the door and holding it open for the man.

“Just wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks while you're still in town,” Ace says when he slips past Felix into the building. “I wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” Ace adds, looking him up and down with a smile that is definitely not just friendly.

Heat rises up Felix's neck from more than just the warm air of the hotel lobby. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension between them.

“Maybe,” Felix says, trying and probably failing to not seem way too enthusiastic.

“Oh?” Ace says, quirking an eyebrow. And then he's shrugging off the blanket, revealing a rolled-up, button-up shirt and—

Fuck. Broad shoulders and a lean build, that sure as hell doesn't make Felix's predicament any easier.

Felix definitely stares longer than appropriate while they continue walking to the elevator, Ace thankfully too busy with bunching up the blanket to notice his ogling.

“What…" Felix starts, making Ace look at him, cocking his head. "Uhm. What's with the sudden interest?”

“I mean,” Ace says, shooting him pointed look. “I was interested ever since I saw you there, shivering in your ridiculously tight T-shirt,” he winks.

Felix realizes that the shirt probably leaves a lot less to the imagination than the suits and blazers he always wears. He lifts a hand to his arm in a self-conscious manner, making an attempt to cover himself.

“But I didn't wanna freak you out,” Ace adds, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Would have been pretty awkward if you said no, considering you were kinda stuck with me for a bit.”

That's… oddly sweet, and very much appreciated. Felix would probably have imploded on himself from embarrassment if Ace would have been this forward from the start.

“Thank you,” Felix says.

“No worries,” Ace grins, pushing the button to order the elevator. “So? Are you freaked out?”

Felix considers the question for a moment, only arriving at variations of "no", "I'm leaving in two days" and "help you're really hot but I've never been with a guy and don't know what to do".

“I think the word is…” Felix pauses in thought, trying to ignore his brain screaming insecurities at him. “'Intrigued'.”

Proud of managing to be smooth for once in his life, the ding of the elevator arriving is almost lost on Felix, because he's so focused on Ace's now downright lecherous grin.

But he obediently steps into the elevator, not wanting to keep the few hotel customers still lingering behind them.

“What's you floor, gorgeous?” Ace asks with a flirtatious smile, after pressing the number four.

Wow. How the hell did Felix ever manage to think he was just being friendly?

“Three,” Felix says.

“Looks like you're under me,” Ace flirts while pushing the button for him, making Felix choke on his own spit from the suggestive comment, embarrassed yet curious.

And then Ace clears his throat and averts his eyes as a woman and her daughter walk into the elevator with them.

They stand awkwardly next to each other as the elevator doors slide close. Felix’s thoughts are a mess of excitement, nervousness and embarrassment, not sure what to do in this situation.

He discreetly glances at Ace—

And the other catches him looking.

Felix's heart skips a beat as Ace's lips spread into a lazy grin, eyes shimmering with unspoken promise.

He wonders what it would be like to wipe that grin off the smug man's face. Felix imagines pushing Ace up against the elevator wall, picturing how the other’s eyes would go wide, maybe he'd even gasp, taken off guard at Felix's sudden boldness. Maybe he wouldn't have time to say anything, because Felix would capture his lips in a passionate kiss, and Ace would groan and drop the blanket to tangle his hands in Felix's hair—

DING!

Felix is rudely snapped out of his daydream by the elevator arriving on his floor. He realizes he's been spacing out while staring at Ace's face, and the smirk is gone from the man's lips, but his eyes are somehow even more intense.

“Good night,” Felix offers stiffly, forcing himself to break the eye contact before he gets lost in his own head again.

He takes a step out of the elevator, mentally scolding himself when he notices his racing heart and heavy breathing, getting himself worked up over a dumb fantasy.

Tomorrow, he promises himself when the elevator doors start sliding shut behind him. Tomorrow, he’d go out with Ace and could maybe, hopefully psyche himself up enough to make a move. He'd just text the man in the morning—

Except they never exchanged numbers.

Shit!

[storybookwolf]

Everybody Loves Jonathan

[This is my contribution to Day 1 of @jancyweek2020. The theme is Family, so I’ve shown Jonathan getting to know the Wheelers as Nancy’s boyfriend. It’s set just after season 2. It’s shameless cutesy fluff, and I hope you enjoy it!]

Mike (November 1984)

Nancy had asked Jonathan to pick her up for school at 8.15. ‘Just wait in the car and I’ll come outside. If you come in we’ll get sucked into a vortex of a million question from my mom, and I’d prefer to make a clean getaway.’

He was doing what she’d asked, but he still felt like he was being kind of rude and weird, loitering outside of a girl’s house. Especially since he’d arrived twenty minutes early. He sat there, trying to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest but instead just scanning the same paragraph over and over without absorbing it and repeatedly glancing at the Wheeler house for signs of life.

Finally, at 8.04, the front door opened, and he felt all the tension drain out of his body. It was instantly replaced by confusion, however, when he saw Mike emerge from the house and come running towards his car.

‘Jonathan! Hey, Jonathan!’ the middle schooler yelled, wrenching open the door and throwing himself into the backseat. ‘How’s Will? Is he okay? When’s he coming back to school?’

Jonathan smiled. He was so glad that his little brother had someone who cared about him this much. ‘He’s doing a lot better, but I think Mom’s gonna keep him at home for a few more days.’

Mike grinned. ‘Awesome. That he’s better, I mean. It sucks that he has to stay home.’ Then he leaned back in his seat and looked at the older boy, suddenly serious. ‘So are you, like, Nancy’s boyfriend now?’

Jonathan felt himself start to blush (he hated when that happened). ‘Um…yeah, I guess? I think so. Has she said anything about it?’

‘She refuses to answer any questions,’ said Mike. ‘It’s cool if you are, though. She always seems happier when you’re around.’ He shrugged. ‘So are you dating or what?’

Before Jonathan could answer, the passenger door opened.

‘Hey, you’re early!’ said Nancy. She leaned over and kissed him. It was just a peck on the lips, but Mike started to make gagging noises as though they were full-on making out in front of him.

‘Ugh, why are you guys so gross?’

*

Karen (November 1984)

Nancy checked her reflection in the bedroom mirror for the twentieth time. Should she change her earrings? The hoops had seemed like a good idea, but her curls just kept getting tangled in them. She decided to switch them for tiny gold studs. The rest of the outfit was okay – navy tights, denim skirt, the peach argyle sweater that Jonathan had said he liked. She knew it was silly to be nervous about their first ‘real date’, given that they’d been together for three weeks now (and given everything they’d been through before that), but she couldn’t help but be a little anxious.

And the fact that he was late was only making her more nervous. It wasn’t like him, he was usually either early or exactly on time. Frowning, Nancy grabbed her jacket and purse and decided to wait downstairs … where she found her boyfriend in the Wheeler family kitchen, helping her mother unpack groceries.

‘The tuna fish goes on the third shelf down, and the spaghetti has its own special Tupperware, on the top shelf,’ Karen directed. ‘Oh, hi Nancy!’ she said when she noticed her daughter. ‘Jonathan pulled up just as I was unloading the car, and very kindly offered to give me a hand with all this.’

Of course he did, thought Nancy with a smile.

‘What are you two up to tonight?’ her mother asked.

‘We’re seeing a movie at the Hawk. Actually, it starts pretty soon, so we should probably get going,’ Nancy said, taking Jonathan’s hand and starting to pull him out of the kitchen.

‘Okay, have fun! Make sure you’re home by midnight,’ said her mom.

‘Isn’t your curfew usually 11?’ Jonathan murmured once they were out of earshot.

‘I guess you doing grocery duty gets us an extra hour,’ said Nancy, grinning.

*

Holly (December 1984)

It didn’t take long for Jonathan to become a fixture at the Wheeler house. He’d bring Nancy home from school and stay to study with her. He’d come over for Sunday lunch and weeknight dinners. He’d arrive an hour early to pick up Will from D & D, and spend the time sampling whatever Karen’s latest baked creation was. And wherever he went, he had a shadow: Holly.

The youngest Wheeler seemed to think that Jonathan was actually there to visit her, and therefore it was her job to entertain him. So she’d show him her latest drawings, and make him play dolls with her, and insist that he watch her favourite cartoons. And Jonathan always played along, engaging with the pre-schooler on her level in a way that Nancy found ridiculously adorable. But after a while, it started to grate. She just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend, and it was deeply weird to have to compete with her baby sister for his attention.

Which was why Alan Stavinsky’s retirement dinner seemed like such a great opportunity. He had been her dad’s boss at the insurance company for nearly twenty years, so her parents wouldn’t dream of missing it, even though it was being held all the way in the city and was bound to be a late night. So they’d need Nancy to babysit – she could invite Jonathan over, and once Holly went to bed they would have some privacy.

But Holly just refused to go to sleep. There was yelling, and tears (from both Wheeler sisters). Eventually, the younger girl was persuaded to put on her pyjamas and get into bed. Three bedtime stories later, she reluctantly agreed it was time for lights out.

‘At last!’ said Nancy, snuggling into Jonathan’s side on the couch. ‘I thought she’d never leave us alone. Now, how should we spend the rest of the night?’

‘Do you have any more Berenstain Bears books? I’m pretty hooked,’ Jonathan deadpanned.

‘I have a better idea,’ said Nancy. ‘How about we—’

‘I can’t sleep!’ a small voice announced from the doorway of the living room. ‘Jonathan, play Hungry Hippos with me!’

Nancy managed to stifle a groan of frustration as her boyfriend turned away from her and towards the little girl.

‘I think Hungry, Hungry Hippos might be a little too exciting for after bedtime,’ he said. ‘Let’s make a deal. Do you promise to go back to bed and stay there if we watch ten minutes of one of your Strawberry Shortcake videos?’

‘The Christmas one?’ she asked.

‘Sure.’

‘Okay!’ Holly bounced over to the couch and squeezed in between Nancy and Jonathan.

Nancy dutifully put on the video and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, hoping to miss as much of the nauseatingly sweet cartoon as she could. When she returned a few minutes later, her little sister had finally fallen asleep – and so had Jonathan.

Sighing, Nancy switched off the TV and settled into the La-Z-Boy with one of her mom’s Cosmopolitan magazines. So much for a perfect night with her boyfriend.

*

Ted (January 1985)

It was the last day of winter break. Jonathan and Nancy had spent the afternoon hanging out at her house, doing nothing much at all.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?’ Nancy asked as they said goodbye at the front door.

‘I’m sure,’ he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. ‘I told Will I’d help him with some art project tonight. Besides, your family is probably sick of having me around.’

‘Not at all! They love you,’ Nancy protested.

Just then, Ted Wheeler walked by, the newspaper under his arm and his evening scotch in hand. ‘Good night, Steven,’ he said, nodding at Jonathan.

‘Um…Good night, sir,’ said Jonathan. Nancy buried her face in his shoulder, trying to contain her laughter until her dad left the room.

‘Okay, so most of them love you,’ she said. ‘Me especially.’

Jonathan paused at that, and raised one eyebrow in an unspoken question. Really? He didn’t have to ask; it was clear from her fixed gaze on him that she meant it.

‘I love you too,’ he said.

[caffeine-and-tears]

John Laurens X M! S/o Pride headcanons

Character: John Laurens (Hamilton) x male reader! 

Type: Headcanons +moodboard

Triggers: Tear gas, protests, drinking, sexual innuendo, racism, homophobia

Word count: 1,117

General S/o

If you’re dating John Laurens you gotta be okay with cuddles

He the most cuddly boi ever (Please love him)

He’s definitely the type to hug you at random moments and ask for cuddles like John you’re adorable but the pancakes are burning

I feel like John is a sucker for simple domestic things. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms? Watching you make breakfast in your boxers? He will m e l t

He’s very affectionate! Random kisses are a big part of how he shows he loves you (Please tell him if you’re not okay with it the boi will understand)

If you’re the type to drown him in compliments please warn him! He might cry

Babe you know you mean the world to me? John.exe has stopped functioning

He can’t deal with it, he blushes every time

He won’t buy you a lot of stuff but he will 100% make you stuff! 

I hc John as a pretty great artist so expect a lot of drawings of you! 

If you’re the type to spoil him he will internally die every single time

Hey babe I got you that book about the American revolution you wanted! I would die for you

John loves going on adventurous dates or just general fun dates. He’s the type to go skydiving with you if you let him. Or maybe just a theme park! (If you go to Disney with the boi he will beg you to go on all the roller coasters and will try to buy all the stuffed animals I don’t make the rules)

But if you prefer more tame dates that’s fine! I mean he loves coffee shops and movie nights as much as the next guy. And to share it with the most handsome man? Who could ever say no? 

He might fall asleep if you’re doing a movie night though.

His southern drawl comes out when he’s sleepy so like, enjoy horny bastards

But like seriously early morning/ late is usually when things go down (usually you) 

(I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself) 

He’s 100% more cuddly when he’s sleeping. He will not let go! Especially if you’re warm (And if you’re the type to kick in your sleep he will still hang on)

You’ll wake up with his face nuzzled in your neck while he begs you for just 5 more minutes, please????

He is a blanket burrito kinda guy. He’s usually v cold so he uses it as an excuse to get affection. Babe, I’m freezing only kisses will warm me up 

He doesn’t sleep too late, 12 am is basically his limit and if you stay awake longer he will pout until you join him. 

C u d d l e  h i m

And don’t try to stay up late! He will force you into bed by 1 am, he’s gotten a lot of practice with getting Alex into bed he is really good.

John is a pretty deep sleeper like you’ll have to work hard to wake him up. You can try tickling, just basic shoving, and if nothing else works play All-star very loudly. (If you can get him off you that is-)

Or you can make him breakfast! 

Speaking of breakfast (Great segue) it’s the only food John really knows how to cook. He can’t make pasta but you’ll find him snacking on waffles at 8 am.

If you know how to cook then teach the boi !!! He’ll hang on to every word you say and John no you don’t have to take notes. Please don’t leave him in the kitchen alone though if he’s trying something new, not after the sprinkle incident- (*Lightning strikes dramatically in the background*)

If you don’t know how to cook its fine y’all could learn together! I mean all the google recipes didn’t turn out so well and you had to invite Laf and Herc over to teach you but still!

He does like baking though! 

Well only chocolate chip cookies

Fine only cookie dough

Oh, you thought Hamilton was extreme? Well, meet John brings-up-the genocide-of-the-natives-at-a-children’s-party Laurens!

He’s going to be so busy caring about everything going on the world except himself

Please take care of him! 

He goes to every protest and puts himself in front of anyone being harassed by cops It’s better me than them they get enough of that shit

Pack him googles or protective eyewear!!! 

He’s gotten tear-gassed so many times-

You’ve found him crying over news report after news report multiple times

Remind him that it’s okay to unplug for a bit! He will burn himself out emotionally if you don’t.

Going to pride

John isn’t the type to dress up normally but like Does this outfit have enough rainbows babe? I wanna piss off the homophobes

Pray for the homophobes who give you shit what the hell did you just call my boyfriend????

He doesn’t care he will 100% fight them 

(If you want to stop John from being charged with assault pull him into a kiss! It’s a win/win scenario the Homophobe gets even more pissed off and he gets kisses!)

Y’all visit a booth with rainbow plushies and OH MY GOD THERE’S A RAINBOW TURTLE CAN WE BUY IT PLEASE

He names the turtle after you and gets Herc to make it clothes  (Exclusively turtlenecks, John likes puns okay) 

After going to a parade John would like to tour a bunch of queer bars with you! He loves how lively they are and the sense of community! (Plus he won’t pass up booze, ever)

If you don’t drink/ don’t like bars that fine too! Y’all could cuddle while watching Love Simon he doesn’t mind! (He will cry though, every time)

Celebrating pride at home

I hc that John has a Tumblr he uses to educate himself and others about multiple issues but during pride month it’s all about LGBT issues!

You’ll find him in the living room reading an 80-page pdf and you’re like ??? Oh yeah I asked Alex for his resources on the Bathroom bill-he got excited’

He will try out some rainbow themed recipes! (Again he doesn’t know how to cook so please make sure he doesn’t poison himself!)

Will 100% tweet about how cute you are constantly (he does that usually he just is a lil extra gayer during pride month)

You will be using Youtube/Netflix party to binge-watch Thomas’s sanders and Sense8 I don’t make the rules

He loves you so much! Every day he wakes up with you in his arms is a great one!

Take care of him please

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this! I’ll (try) to post something every day of pride month! (Complete with a moodboard). Okay but seriously I know we’re all happy because it’s pride but black people are still being murdered. I’ve reblogged several ways you can help including ways you can help if you can’t donate on my other blog @fight-me-i-dare-you-bro. 

Stay safe everyone

[bittysvalentines]

Switcheroo

From: @justlookfrightened

To: @happyzimm

I tried to give you some mild angst, through the eyes of both Jack and Bitty, with a happy ending.

No real content warnings, although sexual activity is discussed.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Happyzimm! I had a lot of fun looking through your blog before I wrote it. I hope you like it!

JLF

Switcheroo

Jack woke up and stretched. He felt … lighter than usual. Not as sore, anyway. Well, last night had been good. Really good.

He reached over to run a hand down Bitty’s side, to see if he would be amenable to waking early. Maybe reprise last night.

But when he reached over to where Bitty should be, his hand bumped the back of a shoulder rather than dropping onto Bitty’s arm. It was like Bitty had grown several inches broader across the shoulders overnight.

Jack opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of bed. Whoever that was, it wasn’t Bitty. The man was turned away so Jack couldn’t see his face, but he was big and had messy dark hair.

Then Jack saw his own hand. Or the hand attached to his arm, which was definitely not his. It was small, with slim, tapering fingers. The hair on the back of it was barely visible in the clear morning light. Blond. It was blond.

Instead of caressing his boyfriend, Jack used his small hand to prod the man’s shoulder.

“Wake up,” he whispered.

The man grumbled – a deep voice, not Bitty’s tenor – and turned over, opening ice-blue eyes.

Then he scrambled to a sitting position, arms and legs flailing.

Whoever it was was in Jack’s body, complete with pale skin, the bruise over his ribs from the Bruins game, and stretch marks that were visible as the man pulled his thighs to his chest, eyes raking over Jack.

“Jack?” the man asked in Jack’s own voice. “You look like me.”

“Bitty?” Jack said, relief flooding him at the sound of Bitty’s drawl, even if the pitch and timbre of the voice was all wrong.

“What happened?” Bitty asked, looking down at himself. “You’re … me? And I’m you?”

“I still feel like me,” Jack said. “But, yeah, it looks you have my body, and I have yours.”

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

Jack had to move the seat in his truck up almost as far as it would go to drive Bitty to Samwell. Actually, to drive himself to Samwell. Where he would go to Bitty’s class on the creation of consumer society and take Bitty’s French quiz.

“I can’t go,” Bitty said. “Madame Battier knows me. Or what I look like. And you can’t go to practice looking like that.”

“I don’t know, bud,” Jack said. “I think I look pretty good.”

Jack had spent extra time in the shower, getting familiar with Bitty’s body. So many things were different: The angle of the shower head was all wrong, and the front of his hair drooped into his eyes when it got wet. His toothbrush felt too big for his mouth, and when he went to shave, he realized it really wasn’t necessary.

He wore a pair of Bitty’s skinny jeans, which were more comfortable than he expected, with a black T-shirt and a flannel shirt that didn’t fit him (Jack) any more. Bitty had to help him get his hair right.

Bitty found a pair of blue sneakers in the back of Jack’s closet, refusing to wear Jack’s favorite yellow shoes. He’d pulled on a pair of Jack’s tailored jeans and a sweater, with Jack’s usual athletic gear in a gym bag in the back of the truck.

Bitty had accompanied Jack to morning skate often enough to know the Falconers’ routines. He was a good skater, a good hockey player, and he knew Jack’s style of play better than anyone.

When Jack pulled up in front of the Haus, he pulled Bitty’s messenger bag from the back seat, then tried to kiss Bitty goodbye. Except he forgot he had to look up.

“Up here,” Bitty said. “Ugh. I still sound like me, don’t I? It’s your voice and my accent. I’ll just try not to talk much to the Falcs. They’ll believe I’m you if I just grunt at them, won’t they?”

“Haha,” Jack said. “I’m planning to stay out of the Haus as much as I can. You have practice tonight, right? Maybe we can meet up and try to switch back before then.”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

“You know how last night was so good?” Jack said. “I thought maybe that’s what did it. I mean, I felt like we really connected. Maybe if we do it again, we’ll switch back.”

“You think we should …”

“Well, yeah,” Jack said.

“And not just because you want to try that in opposite bodies?”

“Not just because of that,” Jack said, then watched ablush rise in his own face, and saw himself giggle before Bitty leaned down to kiss him and climbed in the truck and drove away.

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

Of course Tater was the first person Bitty saw when he arrived for morning skate. Of course he wolf-whistled at what was really a very unexceptional outfit. The only reason it looked good was the body inside it, and Bitty couldn’t take any credit for that.

But Tater didn’t know that.

“Looking good, Zimmboni,” he said. “B picked out your clothes today?”

Bitty snickered – drawing a strange look from Tater – and said, “Something like that.”

“Is B coming to the game tonight?” Tater asked. “He’ll bring pie? Or jam? Or cookies?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Bitty said. “I think he has practice.”

“He was here, I think,” Tater said. “You sound like him, a little bit.”

Dang. Bitty shrugged. “He went back to Samwell this morning.”

Then he ducked into the locker room to change.

Warm-ups in the gym weren’t bad – between watching the other guys and knowing Jack’s routines, Bitty did alright at imitating Jack. Until he tried to lean over to stretch and couldn’t reach his ankles. How did Jack even move around like that?

Skating like Jack was more difficult. Jack was a good skater, clean and efficient in his use of edges, but he was all power. Any grace was a side effect of his commitment to getting from Point A to Point B in the straightest line possible.

Which was not at all how Bitty skated. He was powerful too, but he put his momentum to use, swinging around defenders, going right when they thought he’d go left, spinning away from defensemen instead of skating through them.

He thanked whatever deity was looking down on him that he was mostly over his checking problem, and soon realized that both giving and taking hits felt far different in Jack’s bigger body.

He thought he was succeeding at skating like Jack until he was faced with Guy looming in front of him. He deked around him, spun off of Thirdy and carried the puck in on Snowy, leaving much of the team slack-jawed in his wake.

“It’s just practice,” Thirdy said. “No need to show everyone else up, right?”

Bitty looked back, suddenly uncertain, and Thirdy grinned to show there were no hard feelings, but it looked a little shaky. Because, yeah, morning skate before a game was not the time to make the Falconers’ defensemen question their skills. And it wasn’t Thirdy’s fault; he had been expecting Jack to skate like Jack.

“What’d you have for breakfast?” Marty said. “You’re spinning around like your boyfriend.”

“B was here,” Tater chimed in.

“Then maybe don’t tell me what you ate,” Marty said. “But keep it up, kiddo.”

He kept to himself and thanked his lucky stars that Jack wasn’t the motivational speech kind of captain while he stripped out of his gear and headed for the shower. Then he dressed for the fourth time that day. No wonder Jack favored athletic clothes with as few fasteners as possible.

Bitty joined the lunch line, loading his plate with chicken (bland), sweet potatoes (baked) and steamed asparagus and broccoli. He was starving like he used to be when he was thirteen and had just started working with Katya five days a week. Jack must feel like this every day.

He took his lunch to the end of one of the tables, hoping the team would get the message and leave him alone.

“You okay?” Marty asked, speaking softly as he approached. “If I was over the line before, implying – well, if I went too far, I’m sorry.

“I’m fine,” Bitty said.

“Are you sure? Because you’re usually in a better mood when Bitty’s been in town,” Marty said. “You don’t really seem like yourself.”

You don’t know the half of it, Bitty thought.

“Yeah, I don’t feel quite right,” was all he said.

“Do you think you can play tonight?” Marty asked.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “I’ll go home and nap and – and I’ll be fine by the game. Y’all don’t have to worry.”

Bitty re-ran the sentence in his head when he saw Marty’s delighted look. Dang.

“Y’all?” Marty said. “That kid really is rubbing off on you.”

“Haha,” Bitty deadpanned.

There was a brief film session after lunch, which Bitty tried to pay attention to, even though he was sure Jack had watched these clips last night. Then, mercifully, he could head for Samwell.

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

Pick me up at Annie’s? Jack texted.

He’d tried to avoid Bitty’s team, but it seemed like wherever he went on campus, he was accosted by someone Bitty knew. Nursey waved from across the quad, and Dex walked the last stretch to the history building with him, complaining about his own history class all the way. At least Dex didn’t seem offended that Bitty wasn’t talking much.

Then a woman – Jack thought it was Shruti, the women’s rugby captain – caught up to him near the D-hall, followed him to a table, and started talking about a joint fundraiser for a local charity.

Jack knew the event was happening – Bitty had been talking about for the past month – but it hadn’t seemed like something Jack needed to retain details about, especially since the details Bitty went on about were mostly what he could make for a bake sale.

After ten minutes, Shruti seemed less than impressed with his (Bitty’s) commitment to the project. That really wasn’t fair, because Bitty had probably done everything he promised. Probably at the expense of his schoolwork, even.

“Look,” Jack broke in. “I have to go study for my French quiz, but would it help if I got Jack to come and sign autographs and take selfies and such?”

Shruti pulled up short.

“That’d be great,” she finally said. “But you said at the beginning of the year that one thing you would not do was bring your boyfriend into things like this. ‘He deserves to live a normal life,’ I believe you said.”

Jack shrugged.

“The cause means a lot to him,” he ventured.

“Providing feminine hygiene supplies to a domestic violence shelter means a lot to him?”

Her disbelief was plain.

“Well, yeah,” Jack said. “Did you ever meet Shitty Knight? He played with Jack all four years.”

“Shitty who now?”

Anyway, Jack didn’t trust himself to go to the Haus.

He was standing outside Annie’s with his herbal tea, looking for his truck, when Chowder ran up to him, calling and waving.

“Bitty! Bitty, did you get the message?” he was saying.

“Uh, no?” Jack said.

“No practice. There’s a problem with the boards at Faber,” Chowder said. “You know – new Zamboni driver and all.”

“Okay,” Jack said.

“So I was wondering if maybe you’d make –”

Jack didn’t let Chowder finish.

“I think I’ll take the free night to see Jack’s game,” he said.

“Oh, okay,” Chowder said, still cheerful. “Oh, is that why you have the tea? Did you already know? Tell Jack good luck!”

“I will,” Jack promised as his truck appeared. Crap. He should have gotten a latte for Bitty.

“See you tomorrow!” Chowder said as Jack climbed in the passenger seat.

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

The attempt to switch back didn’t work.

With practice being canceled, It seemed like the universe was paving the way for them.

But when they got back to Jack’s condo, and tried to find the connection they’d felt in bed the night before, it just wasn’t there.

First, they had to decide just how to do things. Did it matter who had done what, or just what body had done what? When it came to some things, they just decided to play it safe and try it both ways. They couldn’t do everything like that, both because there was such a thing as a refractory period and because Jack had a game in a few hours.

Maybe they still could have found the connection, if they tried hard enough, but Jack found it distracting to feel things the way Bitty did, to find spots on Bitty’s body that he hadn’t yet discovered were extra sensitive. Bitty seemed thrown by having a bigger body than he was used to.

“Oh, my gosh, look at us,” Bitty said. He had Jack’s body curled around Bitty’s body, and Jack found the sense of being surrounded oddly comfortable. “I can cup your rear end in my hands.”

“It’s your rear end,” Jack protested. “And we knew it fit in my hands. I do that all the time.”

“I know, and now I can see why,” Bitty said. “It’s kind of fun.”

“It’s a nice feeling from here, too,” Jack said. “But I guess I never asked – is it okay that l like to do that? Do you like it?”

“Sweetpea, of course I do,” Bitty said. “You know how nice it feels now, and if I didn’t like it, I would have said. Don’t worry yourself. You’ve got a game tonight.”

“Looks like you might have a game, bud,” Jack said. “If we don’t switch back. What do you say we both get some sleep?”

“That’s probably smart,” Bitty said. “After all, we were asleep when it happened.”

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

Bitty knew he was still in Jack’s body when he woke up. His own body never ached so much. He slipped out of bed to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, using the whole-grain bread he baked especially for Jack, the organic peanut butter and Aunt Judy’s strawberry jam.

He was staring at the sandwich when Jack stumbled out of the bedroom.

“You’d better get ready to go, bud,” he said. “You need to wear a suit.”

“I can’t do this, Jack,” Bitty said. “Going to morning skate and team lunch is one thing. This is a game. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Jack said. “You belong out there more than I do right now. I don’t know exactly what happened, but Marty texted to see if I was feeling better, and he said, ‘As long as you skate like this morning, you’ll be fine.’”

“But I don’t play like you.”

“Just try,” Jack said. “Play like me as much as you can, but if you can do a spinorama and make a shot, feel free. You’re a good player, Bits. I’ll be there watching; I texted George to get a ticket for you.”

An hour later, Eric walked into the arena, dressed in Jack’s charcoal gray suit with his favorite blue tie. He changed again – for the the sixth time? – and took the ice for warm-ups. He didn’t look for Jack in the crowd. He just skated his circles and took his shots, and made sure to make encouraging noises at the rookies.

Then the game was starting and Bitty skated into position across from Foligno for the faceoff.

He lost it and had to chase the puck. The Jackets passed it around until Poots managed a steal and Bitty chipped it down ice and came off.

He won his first faceoff on his third shift, mostly by not thinking about it and letting Jack’s hands do what Jack’s hands did.

By the middle of the second period, the game was tied 1-1. Bitty didn’t feel like he (Jack) was having his best game, but he was holding his own. Then Thirdy leaned over and said, “Skate like this morning, man. You gotta get around them.”

So Bitty did. He won a faceoff from Foligno, passed to Poots at the blue line and headed into the zone past Savard. Then he took the pass back, spun away from Johnson, and buried the puck over Bobrovsky’s right shoulder.

His hands were still in the air when he realized he wasn’t on the ice. He was on his feet, in the stands, wearing his own jeans and Jack’s jersey over a T-shirt, cheering for himself. His eyes were on Jack, now on the ice, looking right where Bitty was sitting.

He pointed at Bitty, skated past the bench for fist-bumps, and lined up for the faceoff.

Bitty pointed back and sat down to enjoy the rest of the game.

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

Jack pointed at Bitty in the stands, embraced Poots, and headed for the faceoff dot.

He didn’t know how he got here from the stands, but he wasn’t about to question it.

Later, driving back to the condo, Jack said, “Congratulations on your first NHL goal.”

“Not really,” Bitty said.

“Yes, really,” Jack said. “You might have been in my body, but it was all you. Maybe that was the point of the switch – for you to know you could do that.”

“Maybe,” Bitty said. “But the NHL was never my dream. Maybe the point was for you to know I could do it.”

“I always knew that, bud,” Jack said.

“Do the words ‘checking practice’ and ‘lucky shot’ ring any bells?”

“Okay, not always, but for a long time,” Jack said.

“Maybe it’s just – the ice is how we met, and how we got to know each other, and how we came out,” Bitty said. “Maybe it’s just a little ice magic for us, because on the ice is when we’re most ourselves.”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “I’m glad we’re back to normal, though. I’ve missed looking at you.”

[chanzicoup]

A/N: I got this template from tenseoyong and I could not find the original creator to give proper credit to. I was waiting for someone to FINALLY request this for V. Like he's the most fatherly (?) of them all in my opinion!!! And he's all in for having 3-5 kids so don't even fight me there.

A = Announcement.- How do you tell him and the world that you’re expecting?

You didn't know you were pregnant until you were about four months in. It was rare but it happened for you two and you had felt no symptoms the entire time. He'd be so pumped for the arrival of twins but he's lowkey stressing because he feels like he has less time to prepare and that he "lost four months."

B = Books.- Did he read the books?

He doesn't read the books and he never will. He's more like a 'wing it' person so he'll go with the flow of things. Somehow he knows everything about the process of birth??? Did he study this before or something bc he really knows his stuff?!?!

C = Cuddles.- Who cuddles the baby more?

He definitely would. He's just so happy to finally have a little version of him and you running around. Whenever he holds the baby he daydreams about things they'll do together. Until he gets soft when it's time for them to go to school for the first time, leave for college, get married and oml take the baby away from him he's crying and smiling at the same time.

D = Daddy.- His reaction to being called Daddy and it setting in.)

You know that gummy smile? Exactly his face when he's called 'daddy' for the first time and it's not in bed ;)))

E = Empty.- Who goes to the store when you guys run out of supplies?

He would volunteer to babysit while you go out but when you come home with your arms full of bags he'd scold you for not letting him help. He didn't know you all needed that much and if he had known he would've went along to make it easier for you.

F = Feeding time- Who does feeding time?

He's all for it. Pretending the food is an airplane and the baby's mouth is the airport. Little plane noises and loud cheers when the baby eats well. All him.

G = Grumpy baby. - Who is better at dealing with a grumpy baby?

There are just some times a grumpy baby can't be calmed so you two go back and fourth to try and but your baby back to sleep while the other is doing something productive like cleaning, laundry, sleepinggggg.

H = How?- how many kids does he want?

"3 if we don't have time but 5 if we do have time" my ass. V wants at least five but that's probably not going to stop him from having more.

J = Jokes.- best dad joke?

Probably stole it from Jin but its, "What do you call a fish with two knees? A two-knee fish!!!"

K = Kisses.- His favorite place to kiss the baby.

He kisses their hands while they are laying on their back and he's just tickling their stomach and they giggle so loud; it's just really cute how v and his children are so close.

L = Little.- How he feels when he holds the baby for the first time.

Literally his world freezes and all he can focus on is his first born in his arms; how they instantly stopped crying when the doctor put them in his arms, how tiny they really are, their hair, eyes, nose, mouth, their teeny tiny fingers and toes. He soaks it all in and he'll never forget how the baby looked. Not even when he is old and frail.

M = Mommy.- what does he call you?

V would definitely call you "momma" along with the baby but he'll bump up the couple pet name game a lot bc he falls in love with you more nd more everyday and the kids are absolutely disgusted by how much skinship you two do. Like V is always hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek and he'll kiss your lips when the kids groan how gross it is when he kisses your forehead. A smirk on his face.

N = Nappies.- who deals with the really bad diapers?

It's all a team effort. He'd act like a doctor in surgery, even pulling out a face mask if it was that bad. You'd hand him the diaper, wipes, etc. when he asked for one; like an assistant would. Lowkey it's just really funny watching you two do childcare because it's always fun for you guys and you make a game out of it.

O = Onesies- Who likes to dress the baby in ridiculous outfits?

He will make sure his kid is fly as hell, but you draw the line at a gucci belt. Why would a baby need a belt???

P = Pet names- names he calls the baby.

"Chubs" bc of their chubby baby cheeks that grandma's love to pinch. Each kid gets a new nickname, one that relates to their personality, traits, etc.

Q = Questions.- How many questions does he ask the nurse?

He wouldn't ask the nurse anything, the only questions he have he'll ask his own mom. She did such a good job raising him and his siblings why would it be different for his own child?

R = Rely- what is the biggest thing you rely on each other for?

(This one is always so hard for me to write for idk why but it is) Ok so I guess you both would want the other to side with you on how to raise your child? Let me explain a bit. Let's say you tell the kid 'no' about something but then the kid goes to v and he says 'yes' to whatever it is. You two want to be on the same page as the other and want proper communication through out the entire family.

S = Sleep duty. - who gets up when it’s really late at night?

Teamwork makes the dream work. You both would take turns but if for some reason one of you is sleeping through the baby's cry the one that is awake will so it. Let's be real one of you will wake the other up and plea that they do it.

T = Trepidation.- fears as a new parent.

He'd be really nervous about saying the wrong thing here and there and scaring the child in some way. He'd be looking at the big picture about everything, how his actions now could affect his child's future. He really just worries his child will be unhappy because of him.

U = Ultra sounds.- His reactions to the ultrasounds.

He points out the baby before the nurse does and she's just like "Okay no one ever sees the baby first bc it's difficult to see but I guess this dad has some super powers or smth" and he marvels at the photos for weeks, printing extra out just to give them to his managers, the other members, his family. And if it's around the holidays, the baby's first picture is being printed on to Christmas cards.

V = Values.- what is the most important value he wants to teach your child.

One of the many things he hopes his children take from him is that he doesn't want them to have to depend on anyone for anything when they grow up. He wants them to have their own backs and to be able to take proper care for themselves for when he is gone and can't do it for them.

W = Water.- Who gives the babe the baths?

Man V is in the bath with the babe in a pair of swimming shorts and washing his and the baby's hair simultaneously. He has no other time to shower since he's busy being a dad and a celebrity at the same time.

X = X-mas- what do you guys plan for the holidays?

It would really depend on how old your baby is or if you were still pregnant. If you were still preggers he'd prefer to stay at home, just in case the baby wants out. But if the baby was a newborn he'd also prefer staying at home, his first Christmas with his new family would be special to him. but if the baby was more like a toddler he'd go and visit your and his parents, letting his son or daughter run around with their cousins whom they only met for the first time that same day. Either way he wants to get professional pictures done and they are hella cheesy at that.

Y = Yelling.- How many fights do the two of you get in?

It's not like loud arguing fights but when you guys are mad at each other you guys only talk when you have to. It sucks for V bc he values communication but when the baby is there he doesn't want to argue in front of them. If the fight started in the beginning of the day most likely it'll end at night when the baby is asleep and you guys are talking quietly in bed, trying to figure out the source of the problem. He hates going to bed angry so it will get resolved or else he is not sleeping a wink that night.

Z = Zoo- How crazy is the house after the birth?

It's just a mess. Somehow there is baby food on the ceiling. Dried wipes are everywhere. Toys all on the floor. It gets even worse when the baby learns how to walk.

~Blake

[authorracheljoy]

Writeblr Winter Gift Exchange: RJ City

A Quick Intro

Name/nickname and pronouns: 

Rachel/RJ and she/her or they/them!

Is your Writeblr a sideblog? 

Nah, I’m 100% Writeblr on Main!!

Do you 🙌 a specific holiday? What and when is it? 

Just CHRISTMAS!! (December 25th~)

Do you have any special time constraints (exams, traveling, holiday observances, etc)?

I don’t have any travel plans until AFTER Christmas? Aaaand no exams for me! :D

For the Giving

What would you like to give? Bold which apply

Short fics/writing, moodboards/edits, playlists/🎶, drawing/art, Other (please specify)

Content you DO want to do:

I’m good with pretty much anything? Especially when it comes to the writing itself; writing short fics would be easy! And drawing art of someone’s character(s) is always so FUN!

Content you DON’T want to do:

Anything NSFW, honestly :X Oh, and the fetish stuff (I’m just not comfortable with writing - or drawing that)! I’m also not too good with drawing complex backgrounds or outfits? But I’ll try my best I guess ^^’

How would you like to be contacted?

Tumblr is fine, and it might be the easiest to use for this exchange :) 

For the Getting

What source material would you like used for the 🎁 you receive? Something based on Your Original Content, Their Original Content, or Fandom? Please include reference links or tags to make your giver’s life easier.

Anything to do with my current biggie of a WIP, The Hunters Saga! Whether it’s a short fic or art, I’m not particularly picky about who you choose to spotlight for the exchange :))

Here are some extra links to help narrow it down:

The Hunters Saga Tumblr Tag

My Charahub (which has info on all of the main characters from my series PLUS pictures of them!!)

What type of content would you like to receive? Bold which apply

Short fics/writing, moodboards/edits, playlists/🎶, drawing/art, Other (please specify)

Content you DO want to 👀:

Fanart of any of my ocs from The Hunters Saga would be AMAZING! And it doesn’t matter who you choose to draw, I guarantee that I’ll love it regardless ^^ Writing of any sort (minus fetish/NSFW stuff of course) is also equally acceptable! As for music/playlists? I’ve never received music for my stories (since I’m always the one to scout for said inspiration music) but that’d still be really cool ^^ 

So basically, in order of what’ll make me cry tears of joy the most:

1) ART

2) Writing/short fics

3) Music/playlists

Content you DON’T want to 👀:

Again, I don’t want anything that qualifies as NSFW! And no killing my characters if you decide to write something? I.. think that might just be common sense and something that doesn’t need to be stated but still- otherwise, anything goes! :D

Anything else we need to know?

There’s a pretty good chance that I’ll adore anything I receive in this exchange, so please have fun with whatever you decide to do ^^ Also, a round of applause goes to @raevenlywrites for coming up with this great idea in the first place! I honestly can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with! This is such a talented community~ God, I love being a writeblr!! Alright, that’s it for now <3

[studiobeebo]

my villlain oc YEET

h u l l o. i recently made a villain oc. she’s a thot and also The Worst however i’m sharing her info with you guys anyways. (also thanks @technicallyflamey for letting me use her OC template bc i am Too Unorganized to figure this all out on my own)

Basics (This is gonna be a long post, so I’ll give a quick description of her here first and then if you want to learn more in depth stuff, you can just scroll down!)

Name: Beatrix

Age: 20

Affiliation: League of Villains

Quirk: Ink Animation

After growing up in an unloving home, finding out she’s adopted, and then finding out that her actual parents were even more uncaring than her adopted ones despite being heroes, Beatrix was left wanting nothing more than to dismantle the idea that heroes were somehow these perfect beings. She’s got a very flashy personality and is quite the thottie diva to a point where ‘Bitch’ or ‘Whore’ is practically her middle name. Her quirk allows her to bring any drawing or writing to life and she uses her quirk on her many tattoos to fight. She joined the league because, honestly, she’s an attention seeker and at the moment, the league was getting quite famous and she wanted to get under that spotlight. While her whiny and bratty personality makes her very disliked by her new “boss”, she likes to think she gets along pretty well with the rest of the team and if asked, will confidently say she already plans on marrying Dabi despite his apparent lack of interest.

vvv In Depth Assessment vvv

General Information

Name: Beatrix   

Nicknames: Trix, Bea

   Alias: Witcher

Gender: Female

Age: 20

Birth date: June 12

Astrological sign: Gemini

Nationality: American

Affiliation: League of Villains

Appearance

Hair color: Naturally, her hair is a deepish brown, however she loves to change things up so it’s not strange to find her wearing different colored wigs that look surprisingly natural (her most recent favorite happens to be one with the same naturally wavy style of her actual hair, however it is a pastel blue and pink in color.)

Hair style: Generally, Beatrix puts her hair up into two buns, leaving her naturally wavy bangs framing her face. This is most practical for fighting, but if she isn’t particularly doing anything, she’ll have her hair down with two smaller buns on top or if she’s feeling extra lazy, she’ll just tie it up in a messy bun.

(If you’d want to see references for hairstyles/colors you can see em here)

Eye color: Steel grey

Eye shape: Sharp and upturned, a bit cat like.

Height: 5’3”

Weight: 137 LB

Build: Endomorph or pear. Basically, an hourglass like figure, however with thicker hips.

Complexion: Fairly pale with rose undertones

Cup size: B

Blood type: AB

Handedness: Right

Movement: It really depends on her mood. She’s a bit flamboyant so she speaks a lot with her body language.

Posture: Again, depends on how she’s feeling. IE, if she’s tired, she’ll be slouching more.

Voice: It can be pretty obnoxious, she complains a lot and has a catty, almost preppy tone to her voice, though judging by how dramatic she is, it wouldn’t be surprising if even her voice were fake..(think Juliette from Lollipop Chainsaw) 

Scars: Nothing significant, maybe a few scratches here or there. She may seem like a reckless fighter upon seeing her, but she tries very hard to make sure nothing flaws her “perfect” features.

Distinguishing features: She’s got quite a lot of tattoos, and while they may seem random, most of them serve a purpose. That being said, she has a mix between purely artistic things such as a small bundle of roses on the back of her left shoulder, but the others, such as the large snake on her right thigh or the wings on her back that spread over her arms, have a greater purpose.

(Tattoo references here)

Clothing

Uniform: Beatrix doesn’t really believe in “uniforms”. She thinks they’re boring and tacky, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing the exact same outfit twice during missions.

Civilian clothes: Her civilian clothes also count as her mission clothes, but they are anything but appropriate for fighting. Bea is very fashion savvy and always wants to have the best, cutest clothes and she has a very risque style, often wearing things like leotards, crop tops, or anything that shows a lot of skin. To be honest, she’s an attention whore and she knows she’s got the looks, so she uses them. Think, ‘thottie with a body’, or that bitch who always wears fishnet stockings and as catty as she is, you can’t help but look because damn does she look good. Her favorite outfit, however, is any variation of the classic playboy bunny get up.

(Same with hairstyles, you can see examples here)

Characteristics

Strengths: Beatrix is a very cunning girl and she’s good at talking herself out of bad situations. She also is very sly and quick with her movements, so she makes for a surprisingly scary opponent.

Weaknesses: She’s definitely an attention seeker and a whiner, so her brattiness can make her very hard to work with.

Likes: Attention, sweets (specifically suckers or gum), flirting, eye candy, shopping, being able to do what she wants.

Dislikes: Being ignored, being stuck indoors for too long, people insulting her looks or style, rain, bossy people

Fears: She’s afraid of being left in the dust, unrecognized and unwanted.

Hobbies: Shopping, complaining, dressing up for literally no reason, singing (though she’ll never do this if she thinks people can hear her)

Skills: Conning people, flirting, short term fights

Quirks:  (Not actual quirk, but strange parts of the OC’s personality) She has a bit of an oral fixation, so she is always chewing gum, sucking on a sucker, or chewing on a toothpick.

Myers-Briggs Personality Type: ENTP - ENTPs are versatile, open-minded, and restless. Easily bored, they are constantly toying with new ideas and scanning for possibilities. Because of their insatiable thirst for novelty, their interests can seem limitless. As is true of the ENFP, ENTPs’ minds move at a frenetic pace, contributing to restlessness, anxiousness, and erratic sleeping patterns. Not only are they constantly scanning for new possibilities, but also generating new ideas and associations. Moreover, ENTPs enjoy sharing and exchanging their ideas with others. Considering how their minds are drawn in so many different directions, it is no wonder that ENTPs can seem restless, scattered, distractible, and, rightly or not, are commonly diagnosed with ADD or ADHD.

Health

Physical health: She’s very fit, she gets antsy easily so she’s solved that by going for walks or runs often.

Mental health: She’s a villain, so...slightly cracked, but she isn’t completely insane or anything.

Nutrition: Actually not that great, she eats a lot of garbage and the only reason she’s thin is because she only eats about once a day.

Sleep habits: Erratic. She’s always had trouble sleeping so it’s common to see her awake at ungodly hours of the morning browsing her phone or getting into trouble.

Quirk and Abilities

Quirk- Ink Animation

Explanation of Quirk: To put it simply, Beatrix is able to bring any type of ink to life, literally pulling it from whatever surface it’s from and controlling it to do whatever she needs. This, along with the fact that she had her rebellious stage quite early and never really left it, is the main reason she has many tattoos, as she can pull them from her skin and use them. Anything with a sharp edge or sharp line work can be used like a blade, her smokey tattoo could be used as a way to shield her presence, the snake could..well, attack people. Her wings, however, are her favorites as she can use them to fly, but she tries to only use them if she really has to. The reason behind this is, the bigger the tattoo, the less time she can use her quirk on it before it has to be returned to her skin.

Statistics:

   Power: ★★★☆☆ F

   Speed: ★★★★★ D

   Technique: ★★★★☆ C

   Intelligence: ★★★★☆ B

   Cooperativeness: ★★☆☆☆A

Extra:

Power: Technically, her quirk itself isn’t that powerful, but her strength lies in how it’s used.

Speed: Being a quick mover is just something she’s learned along the way to get a leg up on those who are physically stronger than she is.

Technique: Beatrix always has a plan for every fight she gets into and she’s very good at analyzing her opponent and their quirk.

Intelligence: She’s gotten very clever with how she uses her quirk, and she has to be pretty smart if she can make a plan to take down an enemy twice her size.

Cooperativeness: Beatrix is very picky and she doesn’t work terribly well with people she doesn’t like.

Character Analysis

Enneagram: 7 THE ENTHUSIAST The Busy, Fun-Loving Type: Spontaneous, Versatile, Distractible, and Scattered

History

Ages 0-4: Beatrix was adopted from birth, however this was not something she found out about until she was older. Her toddler age was much like any other, though she was a bit more troublesome than your average young child.

Ages 5-11: At age 5, Beatrix discovered her quirk while drawing in her kindergarten class. After this, her bad temper and brattiness got much, much worse.

Ages 12-14: On top of her average brattiness, being a preteen only made her attitude worse. She had never gotten along with her parents and never really felt a connection with them. They, on the other hand, never made any connection with her either and just saw her as a project they had to keep and take care of until she was old enough to leave because they chose this life. There wasn’t much love or attention given from either side, they were only with one another because of family “love” being the social norm.

Ages 15-Present: At the age of 17, after a rather terrible argument with her parents, Beatrix discovered she was adopted due to her father screaming about how she wasn’t even really theirs, so they shouldn't have to deal with her ‘bullshit’. Despite not having much of a connection with her parents, this life long lie made her absolutely furious. She felt like the only reason she had grown up miserable and, well, a troublemaker was because she wasn’t with her real family.

Once Beatrix turned 18, she got all the information that she could from her parents about her birth family and seeked them out, but this turned out to be a mistake. She was hoping that, finally, she’d have that picture perfect family where she could fit in and be loved, but when she knocked on her parents door one morning and was met with a look of horror after explaining who she was, she knew something wasn’t right.

After being invited inside, both her ‘parents’ sat her down looking pale in the face before giving her an explanation: They gave her up because of their jobs as heroes. They never wanted a child and she was an accident, and since they were both pro heroes, they didn’t have the time for a child and since they didn’t even want one, she was given up. That was when Beatrix went cold, her dream of finally being a puzzle piece finding the puzzle it belonged to being crushed, but when she heard her father utter out the following words, she lost it.

“You..You should leave..We didn’t want you then, and I’m sorry, but we don’t want you now.”

Her actions felt like a blur, but before she knew it, her parents were on the ground littered with deep gashes all over their bodies as a few of her arrow tattoos returned to her arm. Her emotions were a wreck and she felt more lost than ever before, so instead, she told herself that not having a place in the world just meant she was free, so she began doing what any ‘free’ person would do: whatever she wanted. For a while, she didn’t kill anyone and stuck to petty crimes like theft, but this quickly bored her. The lack of love growing up had left her wanting all eyes on her all the time, so she began doing flashier crimes and dressing much more errotically, anything to get attention. She began to let loose even more, and when she saw how infamous this ‘League of Villains’ in Japan was getting, she knew she needed to get under that lovely spotlight, and when there was a call for new members, she was practically the first to pack her life up and move to Japan and start her new life as a member of the League.

Relationships

Canon Character- Tomura Shigaraki

  Status: Her “Boss”

  How well they get along: Horribly. She hates anyone who tries to limit her, he hates brats. Luckily, her want to be in the spotlight is strong enough that she takes orders from him, though not without a lot of complaints.

  What OC thinks of them: She thinks he’s an overly entitled child who needs to grow up. She’s always the first to make cracks at his temper tantrums.

  What they thinks of OC: He hates her and has been very close to killing her many times. She doesn’t listen and she ‘dresses like a hooker’, and in his eyes, she should be lucky he even let her on the team.

  What OC calls them: Crusty, Tomura, Cry Baby

  What they call OC: Whore, Brat, Witch

Canon Character- Toga Himiko

  Status: Teammates, Friends

  How well they get along: These too actually get along quite well. They’re both accustomed to fashion or cute things and they both tend to complain a lot, so they’re a good match.

  What OC thinks of them: She thinks she can be a bit annoying, but she loves her excitable spirit and almost sees her as a sister.

  What they thinks of OC: Toga loves Bea, she thinks her style and attitude is impressive. Bea is probably the one who made her a bit obsessive over attractive or interesting people, too.

  What OC calls them: Toga-chan, Bunny

  What they call OC: Bea, Trixy

Canon Character- Dabi

  Status: They tolerate each other, or rather, Bea loves him and he tolerates her

  How well they get along: It depends on who you ask. Ask Bea, she’ll say they’re a match made in heaven and that everyone should be expecting wedding invites very soon. Ask Dabi, he’ll say she’s annoying and self centered, but he stopped trying to deny how often he looks at her ass a while ago.

  What OC thinks of them: She likes him mostly because she thinks he’s attractive, but she also likes that he’s a bit mysterious. In her eyes, he’s a blank slate, so that leaves her plenty of information to learn about him so she sees him as entertainment and eye candy, her favorite combination.

  What they thinks of OC: Again, he thinks she’s a bit of a brat and way too self centered. She whines and complains a lot, but she often complains about the same things he does just in a much more annoying way, so he has to give her that. That, and she’s got an amazing figure and hates their leader. All in all, he thinks she’s obnoxious, but could be worse.

  What OC calls them: Love, Babe, Dabi Dearest, etc.

  What they call OC: Beatrix or Trix

Canon Character- Twice

  Status: Teammates, Friends

  How well they get along: Surprisingly well

  What OC thinks of them: She actually thinks Twice is adorably sweet. She sees him as a brother and him and Toga are part of the reason she actually feels..at home in the league, but she’d never say that cause mushy shit is for losers and heroes.

  What they thinks of OC: He’s practically in love with her, but he feels that way about every female that’s nice to him. He likes her fun, outgoing style and that she’s a bit of a rule breaker.

  What OC calls them: Twicey

  What they call OC: Bea

[seventeen-scenarios-blog]

[DRABBLE] Prince!Mingyu (G)

Request: When Mingyu comes home to see his significant other slow dancing with their eyes closed Requester: @brb2132 Genre: Fluff, royal AU Word Count: 1,622 Warnings: Cheesefest ahead, I hope you brought some chips to dip in.

A/N: If y’all can’t tell, my Mingyu swerve is still going on strong af and god do I LOVE seeing him in his prince outfit from Diamond Edge KDJLFSFGSG Hope you enjoy this!

wooed<3

And the left foot goes here, and… no no no, that can’t be right, my feet are all getting tangled up.

You slump in defeat against the velvet cushions of the couch. This simply isn’t working. You have been trying for the past couple hours or so, and you just can’t seem to get this damn thing right.

Hundreds of generations of heirs to the throne and I must be the first one that can’t get the most basics of ballroom dancing down, you think to yourself miserably, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material. You were never much of a royal anyway. You loved playing outside and playing swords with your brothers, but when it comes to more ‘refined’ activities -- as your mother described them -- you are as good as owning two left hands and feet.

A glance on the ancient grandfather clock fixed on your left tells you that it’s nearing 2am in the morning. You wondered if Mingyu’s done with his work in his study. At the thought of your fiancé, a tremor courses through your spine. God, you always get so nervous around him, and it really doesn’t help that you’re going to present yourself as future spouses, future rulers, to his kingdom in about fifteen hours.

You love Mingyu, you really do. Your kingdoms being close allies for centuries, you’ve visited his castle a lot and you practically grew up together as a result. Your parents had you both betrothed as children, and neither of you particularly minded this arrangement for you both were already so close.

Even as a kid, Prince Mingyu was nothing short of polite, mannerly and just downright loving. You’d even call each other “honey” as kids, much to the endearment and delight of the adults. In your schooling years, you both had the same teachers, and after your classes you’d go out and play in the courtyard together, catching whatever critters that caught your fancy. When you both came of age, your engagement went off without a hitch, and you really can’t wait to spend the rest of your life by his side.

Until you realised that it entailed you having to dance with him in front of hundreds upon hundreds of your subjects. Your personal instructor had looked upon you stumbling like an elephant on rampage in utter horror a mere hour into your first lesson a week ago. Though she had managed to give you a weak thumbs-up for assurance at the end of the day, it was unmistakable that she thinks you’re a lost cause.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

A simple thousand year old tradition and you’re contemplating about throwing your birthright to one of your four younger sisters. Hell, even your twin brother Seungkwan would make a better fiancé than yourself. At least he could handle a few steps around the ballroom.

“Oh god, what am I even thinking…” you grumble, balling the silken material of your pajamas in your hands. “I gotta do this. I can’t let Mingyu down.”

Swallowing down the niggling self-doubt at the back of your mind, you mustered the will to get back up on your feet once more. You reached over to the speakers and upped the volume by two bars in an attempt to drown out the sound of blood rushing up your neck to your ears, but that doesn’t stop the way heat flood your cheeks regardless.

You lift your right hand, cupping the air that would have been your fiance’s shoulder, and extend your left arm to your side to “hold” your partner’s hand. You can already imagine Mingyu right there in front of you, looking down at you with those eyes, shining and full of affection.

Damn. You have to make this perfect for him.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you let yourself immerse in the music. It’s no hip-hop or folk rock you’re used to listening, but you have to make do. You try to recall the words from your dance instructor, and you extend your right feet tentatively to your front. Your left follows suit, and you step backwards with your right again. An outside spin, then a twirl, then a bow...

Alright, you’re getting there. Closing your eyes, you try again, letting the “music take over your body”, in the words of your dance instructor. You feel your eyebrows furrow as you concentrate on the rhythm and footwork. In fact, you’re so engrossed that you didn’t hear the foyer doors open and shut.

Your eyes fly open and a strangled scream of alarm gets caught in your throat when someone clasps their hand over yours.

“Shh… shh… It’s just me, baby. It’s okay…” You immediately relax into Mingyu’s sturdy embrace once you recognise his voice. Your husband-to-be chuckles at your reaction, reaching over behind you to flip the speakers off.

“Oh god, Mingyu, you scared me,” you lightly scold him, giving him a light smack on his shoulder. “I thought you’d be going to bed at this hour.” He’s traded his princely formalwear for a simple silk robe and pants, but he still looks like an ethereal god to you.

“I could say the same to you. I came back to the bedroom and you weren’t there, so I figured you’d still be here.” He smooths the small tangles in your hair with his fingers. “It’s late, shouldn’t you be resting up for tomorrow night?”

“I just thought I could use a little more practice for the ball tomorrow, that’s all.”

His eyes visibly softens as he notices the shaking in your voice. “Nervous?” he asks, the hand that was in your hair sliding down to cup your cheek.

“Very,” you reply immediately. “The last thing I want to be remembered for before ascending the throne is to have embarrassed myself in front of the kingdom because I don’t know where to put my legs. You know what, my first decree as ruler is to abolish this dumb tradition so that my future generations of two-left-feets don’t have to suffer like this. I mean, we even have to wear corsets! What is this? The 14th century?!”

You had to stop to take a breath between your rapid-fire commentary. Your honest answer has your fiancé snickering. “What was that you said about future generations of two-left-feets?” he wonders impishly, and you sigh at his little implications. “You know, if they grow up to be anything like their dad, they probably won’t be struggling.”

“Oh, save your childish jabs for the insecure,” you roll your eyes, poking him in the shoulder. Mingyu pouts, rubbing the sore area. “You know, the word ‘tradition’ is what the adults use when they don’t remember the purpose of something,” he points out.

“But too bad we still have to go through with them…” you dejectedly tell him, slowly writhing your way out of his embrace. “I just have to hope your parents don’t get second thoughts about our betrothal after tomorrow.”

“All because of a silly dance? Nah, I doubt it. They’ll still love you.” You stifle a yelp when Mingyu pulls you back into his arms again, and tightens his hold even more. “Like how I still love you, two left feet and all.”

You manage a weak huff of amusement at his cheesiness, but your spine stiffens with resolve once again. “Tradition or not, I’m not leaving this room until I get this right. You should go back and get some sleep, Mingyu. You’re going to need it.”

The crown prince frowns at your stubbornness, knowing that it’s impossible to stop you once you set your mind to it. He had a lot of episodes from his childhood to prove it. He knows that there’s only one way to coax you out of this situation. He loosens his grip on your waist, only to slide his larger hands into your own. You look up at him, clueless.

“Well, I guess a little extra practice for me won’t hurt either. But we’ll leave once the clock strikes two, then it’s off to the kitchens for a good midnight snack, alright?”

Your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss as Mingyu presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “Alright,” you relent, and you’re greeted with Mingyu’s two rows of delighted pearly whites. “Let’s both hope I don’t end up stepping on your toes like last time, huh?”

“No worries, I’m well-protected this time.”

You both burst into laughter as Mingyu proudly brandishes his furry bunny slippers at you, and the music turns back on, filling the room once more.

He slowly and gently waltzes you across the marble floors. Your eyes darts down to make sure your feet are following the patterns you’ve mapped in your brain, but he bends his head down at you, catching your attention.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says again. “Tomorrow, it’s going to be about you and me. It will be just like now, two of us, alone, enjoying our time together. We’re not going to let anyone take our fun away, not the tradition, nor the public’s opinion. Got it?”

Utterly mesmerized, you can only swallow whatever’s in your already-dry throat and nod. You’ve known this man all your life; how he still manages to make you swoon every time is a mystery.

“And besides, if the people ever dare to make fun of you, we can always sentence them to d--”

“No, Mingyu.” You bop him on the head before you can finish his sentence. Ah, there’s the dork you fell in love with. His subsequent grin is brighter than the full moon outside, and as the clock strikes 2, Mingyu sweeps you off your feet, and you feel ready as ever for tomorrow.

[enbysaurus-wrex]

All-American Boy chapter 3

Chapter 3

Take a chance, take your shoes off, dance in the rain.

-Panic! at the Disco, I Have Friends in Holy Spaces

Cas:

Cas squinted his eyes at his roommate. “What’s larking?” he asked, head tilted slightly and eyebrows knit together.

Dean barked out a laugh, bending over to clutch his stomach. “LARPING,” he clarified. “It stands for live action role playing. It’s not a Shakespearean bird, you loon.”

“Larks are real birds, Dean,” Cas said, smirk forming on his lips. “What does live action role playing intail?”

“Uh, basically it’s like an RPG in real life. You run around with foam swords or beanbags for magic and just… role play. It’s fun,” Dean said with a casual smile.

“Who’s all gonna be there?” Cas asked. It wasn’t as if he were shy or anything. It just took him a while to warm up to new people and crowds freaked him out a little bit.

“Uh, Charlie, of course,” Dean said, scratching the stubble forming on his chin as he tried to remember who all was coming. “And Gilda, probably. Kevin and Channing, Garth, and a few others. Not too many people but we need the numbers in order to be a university recognized club, you know.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah. Sounds fun. Will I have to buy anything or will stuff be provided?”

Dean shook his head. “No, we’ve got a few extra supplies for newcomers but if you come to more than two games you have to purchase your own and pay the five dollar club fee.”

“Sounds reasonable. What class are you?” Cas asked, curious. He’d played several RPGs before so he was familiar with how they worked… mostly. It wasn’t as if he’d played D&D or WOW. Just stuff like Dragon Age and Skyrim.

“I’m a warrior so I’m DPS. But you have your orcs who are the tanks, mages can be DPS or healers depending. You also have rogues which can specialize in archery or short range weapons like daggers or whatnot,” he explained and Cas nodded again. He figured it would be something like that.

“Great,” Dean said, opening his wardrobe and pulling out a foam longsword.

Cas chuckled. “Where did you get that? Narnia?” he asked, not able to hide his amusement.

“Nah,” Dean said with a shrug. “Just kinda a closeted nerd.”

“Well, in my opinion, closets are for clothes. You should always be open about who you are. Why hide it?” He recognized the hypocrisy in what he was saying of course. If only he could just practice what he preached. But it was easier said than done. Especially with his upbringing.

“Well, the game’s tonight at sundown,” Dean said, pulling some costume chainmail from the closet as well. “What do you usually play as? You’re a mage in Dragon Age, right?”

“Elf mage. But I don’t have a costume. Or ears…” Cas said with a frown.

“And they haven’t put up any of those Halloween Express stores yet… We could always try Goodwill. I’m sure you could turn some ugly dress into a mage’s robes. And Charlie actually has Hogwarts robes you could wear inside-out to hide the school insignia,” Dean said, looking him up and down. “They might be a little short and maybe a little tight in the arms, but I’m sure they’ll fit. They’re kinda loose on her.”

“Not all mages wear robes you know? Dorian in Dragon Age kinda just wears a tunic with leather and gauntlets underneath.”

Dean nodded. “And thigh highs,” he said with a chuckle. “And a wicked-ass curly mustache.”

“They aren’t thigh highs,” Cas corrected. “Probably just knee highs with leather pants.”

“And he forgot a sleeve, because he’s an ‘edgy Tevinter,’” Dean said, still chuckling.

Cas snorted. “I thought he was just doing that to be sexy,” he said and Dean barked out another laugh.

“Yeah, well, you can be whatever kind of mage you want. I, myself, go for the knight in shining armor look,” Dean said with a wink.

Cas tried not to read too much into it. He knew they were just playing around. He wasn’t ready to get his heart broken again.

Half an hour and one city bus later, Cas and Dean were walking through Goodwill, looking through the dresses in the women’s section.

“You’ll probably need a large or an XL since most women aren’t as… built as you are,” Dean said, looking through the appropriate sizes.

Cas nodded. “Most women also aren’t six foot,” he said, knowing he’d probably fit an XL better and going straight to that section. He tried not to think too hard about the fact Dean called him built. It was just an observation. Nothing more.

“What about this?” Dean asked, holding up a white tunic style dress with cut-out sleeves.

Cas observed the dress, picturing wearing black jeans and boots with it. It would be a bit like what Dorian wore. Enough to make it work anyway.

“That could work if I put a belt around the waist and chest…” Cas mused.

“And Charlie has black arm-warmers you could wear as gauntlets. It’s not perfect but…”

“It’ll do,” Cas said, grabbing the garment and making his way towards the dressing rooms.

In front of the mirror, Cas stripped off his tee shirt and slipped on the dress. Other than his collar bones showing, it seemed to work pretty well. Maybe he could wear a scarf with it to make it more ‘magie.’ Afterall, he wasn’t supposed to be Dorian. He was just Dorian inspired. He could even draw on a goatee using eyeliner to set him apart from the character.

Back at Birchwood, Dean and Cas went to Charlie’s room to bum the arm warmers and some eyeliner off of her. She was so excited Cas was joining them tonight, she gladly gave over the supplies, telling him he could keep them for future cosplays if he’d like.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked, looking down at the black pencil and bit of fabric in his hands.

Charlie nodded. “Oh yeah. I have way too many sticks of eyeliner because my parents always give me makeup as stocking stuffers. And I’ve only worn the arm warmers once. They’re a little too emo for my tastes,” she said, cringing slightly.

Dean laughed. “I always seem to get car accessories in my stocking,” he said, shaking his head. “I have this huge collection of air fresheners and no car to put them in.”

Cas smiled fondly, remembering Christmases past. “I would always get more candy than one person could eat and my dad would end up stealing most of it even though I hid it under my bed.”

“Parents…” Charlie said, shaking her head and Cas tried not to be saddened by the memories.

“Parents,” he said in agreement.

After eating breakfast for dinner at Westwood (and yes, it was just as packed as Dean said it would be) the three of them made their way out to the Quad.

“Dean!” a small-framed blonde girl shouted and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He picked her up and spun her around.

“Missed you kiddo,” he said into her hair before setting her down.

“Jo,” he said, addressing the girl. “This is Cas, my roommate. Cas, this is Jo. She’s Bobby’s daughter and a freshman in Honors College. She has an on-campus job so she got to come up a week earlier, but unfortunately has been just too busy to stop by and see me.” He ruffled her hair and she slapped away his hand.

“Bobby who owns the auto shop?” Cas asked.

Jo nodded. “Yup. That’s my daddy. Grew up around cars my whole life but what I really want to do is teach. Well… and coach. I’m on the volleyball team here.”

Cas’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You’re in Honors College, have a job, and are in a sport? That’s a lot.”

Jo shrugged. “It’s not that bad. I tested out of a lot of the required classes and have a couple of semesters of college credit under my belt so I’m only taking twelve credit hours.”

“Tell him what you wanna teach,” Dean said, sounding rather proud of her.

“Physics,” Jo answered, a bit shyly. “I’ve always been drawn to the sciences, you know?”

Dean put his arm around her, pulling the girl to his side. He kissed her on the top of the head.

Cas felt like he was going to be sick. It didn’t come as a surprise that Dean had a girlfriend. He just wasn’t prepared for how bad it would feel. It had only been a week but he was falling for the man. Hard.

Dean:

Dean couldn’t be more proud of Jo. He kissed the top of her head and smiled down at her, her eyes shining back up at him. He knew the girl had a crush on him and that she had since they were children. They had always been really close and were open with their affections. But for all the heart eyes she made at him, he had only ever thought of her as a sister. It’s not as if he’d never told her that either. He figured she was just holding out until the day he changed his mind. Which was never ever going to happen. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t find her attractive. She was very cute. It was just that it would be so… weird. They’d known each other since daycare.

“Hey, Dean,” Max said, approaching with a small wave, his twin sister Alicia right behind him.

Max on the other hand… He’d met the dark skinned boy in freshman biology and had been harboring a crush ever since.

“Hey!” Dean said, letting go of Jo to hug each of the twins. “How are your moms?”

“Oh, you know. They’re cops so they never get a day off together but are disgustingly hopelessly in love,” Max said as he fake gagged. “It’s sickening.”

Max and Alicia were adopted, their parents dying in a car crash when they were very young. Sheriffs Jody and Donna had taken them in when they were in grade school.

“Hey!” Alicia said, suddenly remembering something. “Max and I are going to a drag show tomorrow. Wanna come?”

“Is it a Prism thing?”

Max nodded. “Yep.” He turned to Charlie. “Didn’t see you at the first meeting, Charles.”

“Been busy with RA stuff,” Charlie told him.

“And gaming,” Max said with a laugh.

“And gaming,” Charlie repeated sheepishly.

“Oh, love the outfit,” Max said, finally noticing Cas.

His friend suddenly looked shy. “Thanks. We, uh, got it at Goodwill actually.”

“Nice,” Max said with a nod. “Hey, Dean, come meet the rest of the gang.” He ushered them towards where Gilda, Kevin, Channing, and Garth were chatting with two brunette girls. As soon as Charlie approached, Gilda was immediately at her side. “Guys, this is Annie and Krissy.”

“Alex,” the one brunette corrected.

“They’re both freshman in the prospect teaching program,” Jo said.

“Prospect?” Cas asked, doing that cute head-tilt thing he always did.

Jo nodded. “Yeah, they don’t accept you into the teacher’s college until your junior year. You have to take a test and everything.”

“But you can take the test sooner than that since you have so many credits built up?” Dean asked, putting his arm around her again.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask my counselor,” Jo admitted.

Dean nodded. “Maybe you can get your program counselor early,” he suggested. Freshman had a different guidance counselor their first year as a ‘general counselor’ and after that they got a counselor in their majors.

“Enough yacking!” Charlie said with command. “As your queen, I demand no talk of the outside world once one’s feet step into Moondoor.”

“Moondoor?” Cas asked, looking adorably confused.

“The Quad,” Dean whispered with a chuckle. “It’s what we call the kingdom the game takes place in.”

Cas nodded, suddenly looking serious.

“Now then,” Charlie said, clapping her hand behind her back and walking in a royal fashion. “I want each of you to split up into two teams. You will have fifteen minutes to strategize before the game begins.”

Cas stood back while the group formed into two teams.

“Wanna be on my team, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Sure,” the dark-haired man nodded. “Who else is on our team.”

“Team Badass is you, me, Max, Jo, and Krissy,” Dean said with a smirk. “And Team Loser over there is Garth, Alex, Kevin, Channing, and Gilda.”

“Charlie isn't playing?” Cas asked, a look of confusion on his face.

Dean shook his head, chuckling softly. “Nah, she is. She just floats around to wherever she's needed. Keeps things interesting,” he said with a smirk.

“Alright good people of Moondoor,” Charlie said, approaching the front of the group once again. “What be your team names?”

“Team Badass!” Dean shouted, earning a ripple of laughter from both teams.

“Acceptable,” Charlie said. “And your team?” she asked the second group.

“Team Ass-Kickers!” Garth shouted, putting out his palm to be high fived by Kevin.

Charlie chuckled and shook her head. She instructed each team to go over their teams plan of attack. After fifteen minutes she addressed the whole group again.

She cleared her throat several times and everyone stopped talking. “Let the game commence!” she shouted and Dean let off a battle-cry.

Cas:

LARPing turned out to be complete and utter chaos with people attacking one another with foam weapons, firing fake arrows, and throwing bean bags from a pouch around their waists and shouting spells like “incinerate!” and “immobilize!” at one another. In the end, Team Badass won.

Cas was so tired, he fell asleep that night the minute his head hit the pillow. The next morning he was sore, but a good sore, the kind of ache he felt after an extra long run.

He ate breakfast with Dean and Garth (nobody else was awake) and spent the late morning into the afternoon watching Stranger Things on Netflix with them.

The entire LARPing team met for dinner at seven at the Student Center. Cas had never belonged to a group before. It felt nice.

After dinner, he was invited to go with them to see a drag show but he politely declined. He had no issues with drag or even transgender people. He just wasn’t ready to go to an event like that.

On Sunday he went out to the Quad to read his chapters while Dean and Jo were at the recplex lifting weights. Soccer practice stared that week and Dean wanted to make sure he was at least in some sort of shape before the season began.

Every day that week, at five pm sharp, Cas went to the soccer field to watch Dean practice. Sometimes Jo, Charlie, or Garth would join him, but on Thursday he was alone watching the brilliant man he was falling more and more for each and every day wipe the field with the rest of his teammates. It was no wonder the guy was there on an athletic scholarship.

As a midfielder, it suddenly became obvious how Dean stayed in shape despite his, admittedly, horrible eating habits. He glided across the pitch like it was made of ice. Cas knew nothing about sports but he knew he was one impressive specimen, that was for sure.

After practice, they would always grab a bite to eat. Sometimes they were alone, other times, one of their friends joined. Oftentimes, it was Jo. Cas tried not to get jealous every time the two of them casually touched. He knew going into this that Dean probably didn’t go for men, and even if he did, clearly he and Jo were devoted to one another and Cas did not intend to be a homewrecker.

Dean:

It was after practice on Friday night and Dean was beat, even after the amazing waffles he’d just had at Westwood. If he was being honest with himself, the carbs were probably making him even more sleepy. Thank goodness Cas just wanted a simple night in playing video games. Dean could be down with that. Maybe Charlie or Garth would join them later.

After kicking off his cleats, he bent over to peel of his socks and shin guards and threw them in the corner of the room where his laundry bin was.

Cas wrinkled his nose as he put the game into his XBox 360. He’d been playing Dragon Age Inquisition on PS4 and this was the first time he’d booted the 360 up since he’d been rooming with Dean.

“You should have brought some of those car air fresheners with you, hang them by your stinky laundry.”

Dean chuckled and went over to retrieve his shin guards. “You’re no spring rose after a jog,” he told Cas before throwing the rancid object at him.

Cas ducked to avoid it. “Watch it,” he said, pointing a finger at him with false seriousness. “I will tell Charlie on you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Dean asked, lifting up the other shin guard as if he was going to throw it.

“Do you want to watch me play Mass Effect or not?” Cas asked, sitting down on his banana chair and raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Cas in his own gaming chair. He was more of a PC gamer himself and was glad Cas had brought along a television and a couple of consoles. Not knowing where to put them, the tv was sitting stacked on top of the mini fridge/microwave combo Dean rented and the consoles were stacked on top of the empty plastic milk crates Dean had packed his stuff in. It wasn’t pretty but it worked.

“Okay, what’s this game about?” Dean asked as the start menu loaded.

Cas pressed start and began creating his character.

“Uh, it’s a decision making sci-fi RPG. It has a bit of a Star Trek influence and is story based. There are more lines of dialogue than your average tv show. So, the gameplay is kinda… lacking, but it got a lot better by games two and three. Your decisions carry over from game to game as well as the friendships and romantic relationships.”

“Romantic relationships?”

“Yeah, you can sleep with members of your crew.”

“How very Kirk of you,” Dean observed with a chuckle.

Cas nodded as he focused on getting his character just right. “Yeah, they actually had a limited edition Mass Effect Cards Against Humanity pack. One of the cards was ‘fuckable aliens.’”

Dean snorted. “So, like blue chicks or something?”

“There are those,” Cas said as he chose his characters background and class. “But there’s also a few other human and alien options. More so in games two and three.”

“So, who can you fuck this game?”

“Well, since there’s no gay romance option in ME1 or I usually go for Liara - your typical hot blue alien chick - and then kind just roll the dice in Two,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’m pretty much just holding out for Kaiden in Three. Sometimes I’ll go for Cortez but-”

“Wait,” Dean said, swallowing hard. “You’re gay?”

“Um... “ Cas looked nervous. “My Commander Shepard is for sure.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, standing up quickly. “Are you?”

Cas looked down at his controller. He was still in character creation mode. “You went to a drag show. You’re friends with Charlie and Max… I didn’t think you’d have an issue with-”

Dean shook his head. No, if Cas were gay that would change everything. “It’s a yes or no question, Cas.”

Dean wasn’t sure why he was freaking out so much about this. Hell, he identified as bisexual so it wasn’t a homophobic response. But, nonetheless, the knowledge that Cas might be into him made him uneasy. Maybe it was because he was still so fixated on Max?

“You’re not forcing me out of the closet, Dean,” Cas said, looking up at him with fire in his eyes. “I don’t get what your issue is but-”

“Hey,” Dean said, kneeling down and putting his hand on the other man’s shoulder before he decided to smite him or something. “I’m just… going through my own shit. It has nothing to do with you.”

“So you don’t have an issue if I’m-”

“Not at all!” Dean said, squeezing his shoulder and looking him dead in the eyes. Those deep blue beautiful eyes. “I… It just came as a surprise, that’s all. I’m totally cool with it.” He shot him a charming smile. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay…” Cas said tentatively before turning back to the tv.

To be continued...

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13196649/chapters/30569769