#i love the american flag sweater

[serpentskirte]

[echoesofadream]

why is he beaten up tho. are bruises sexy. maybe sometimes but they didnt do in a way thats sexy to me

[professionallush]

We can't keep giving the right a monopoly on patriotism

I know no one wants to hear this, but I think the left needs to abandoned good aesthetics as a differentiator.

We all need to get American flags and put them next to our rainbow flags and wear them as bikinis and on Christmas sweaters and painted on our truck nutz.

I am as American as anyone else and criticizing policies and politicians and wanting it to be better actually doesn't mean that I hate America, it means that I love it.

[pascalsummers]

Hey, could you please write Marvel men with a bf that likes to knit/crochet?

A/N: Here you go! Sorry this took so long I am trying my best to get back into the groove of things so hopefully I can post more stuff soon. Enjoy!

-

You Like to Knit and Crochet (Avengers x Male Reader)

BUCKY

Bucky wouldn't have much of a reaction to it but he would find it to be an interesting hobby to have. While Bucky wouldn't admit it out loud he really likes it when you make sweaters for him. The thought of you taking all that time and effort into making something for someone like him gives him a warm feeling in his chest. Whenever he is relaxing in the tower you can usually find him wearing one of the sweaters you made him. Eventually, you offered to teach Bucky how to knit and crochet. Bucky was actually able to pick it up quickly and while he doesn't do it in his free time he will sometimes join you whenever you are working on something.

STEVE

Steve was impressed by your knitting and crocheting skills especially since it seemed so time-consuming. He would generally accept anything you give him but Steve does tend to like your handmade sweaters and socks the most. He especially likes it when you add little designs to them but he will playfully roll his eyes if you add anything American flag-themed to them. Over time Steve would get curious enough and ask you if you wouldn't mind teaching him something. Steve would have a little bit of a struggle in the beginning but he would eventually get the hang of it. Steve would give you some knitted socks as a present and a thank you for the ones you made him.

THOR

Thor would think it was a nice hobby as some of it would remind him of how some people in Asgard would make their tapestries. One day Thor noticed you had made a crochet bee and was curious if you could make a snake for him. Thor loves it when you present him with another crocheted or knitted animal and he will make sure to show off your creation to the other Avengers. Thor was very honored when you offered to teach him how to knit and crochet. Despite Thor's enthusiasm to learn it was apparent that Thor wasn't that good at it as his creations tended to turn out lopsided and incomplete in places.

TONY

When Tony first heard about your hobby Tony made sure to add senior citizen jokes to his conversations with you. While Tony was appreciative of your gifts to him they didn't really fit his style. Usually, you can find the scarfs and hats you make for him on a couple of his suits in the lab. Despite his seemingly dismissive attitude about them, he does genuinely like them and if you really want to he will wear some of them on occasion. Tony turned down your offer to teach him multiple times but eventually you wore him down enough to give it a try. Tony after some time actually wasn't too bad at it but he would tell you it's not his thing plus it makes him feel old.

LOKI

Loki wouldn't react too much to the discovery but he would comment on your skill at doing such a task. When you first presented Loki with a scarf you made for him he was taken aback and didn't really know how to react to it besides a subdued thank you. Loki can be seen wearing the scarf from time to time which lets you know that he does appreciate the gift even if he would never say it out loud. Loki would be a little reluctant to try out knitting and crocheting but would decide to try it out at least once. After a little bit of time, Loki would actually get the hang of it pretty quickly but he wouldn't do it often since it doesn't interest him that much.

BRUCE

Bruce would be a little curious about your hobby and would ask you some small questions about it from time to time. Bruce tends to appreciate anything that you give him but the one gift you gave him that he holds close to his heart is a blanket you made for him. When he first saw it he was taken aback by it and gave you a genuine thank you for the gift. Bruce will usually bring the cover out for the two of you to lie under whenever you watch TV together. Bruce would actually be the first one to ask about you teaching him and while he may not be the best he does get a pretty decent grasp at it. The two of you will sometimes knit and crochet together to relax.

[lets-try-some-writing]

what if optimus was a human teacher?

Well here is an interesting concept I am 100% going to go crazy with. This is a long one though so I'm going to break this up with a read more and a warning that this isn't going to go the way you might think.

Not So Normal Teacher

The Archivist in Optimus was bored.

Megatron had been quiet for over a year and not a spark had a thing to do until the Decepticons made a move. He had already reorganized the Autobot database three times and he couldn't exactly go wandering off with how much energon he used. He was stuck at base handling communications and mission assignment, and Primus, even the Matrix was antsy. He wanted something to do, anything really. And so after months of sitting around being driven half mad by lack of stimuli, he came up with an idea.

The Archivist in him wanted to teach, to preserve history, and to collect data. What better way to do all of that than by taking up a position as an educator? It was rather outlandish considering he was a Prime and from another world, but there was a school in the nearby human settlement hiring. He had no need for human currency nor was it particularly wise to go sign up as a teacher when the Decepticons could resurge at any moment. However he reasoned that if nothing else he would gain greater insight into human capability through his endeavors.

Ratchet was against his idea from the get-go but allowed Optimus to go through with it after he gave his reasoning and pointed out that he would actually use less energon if he kept his frame at base and worked elsewhere. Thus with Ratchet's begrudging assent, Optimus made himself a whole forged identity for his human holoform, plopped his real frame down in his berth, and got to work.

Orion Pax turned up to the interview looking his best, but despite his efforts there were still a few little things that set him apart. He was indeed professional in wearing a simple turtleneck sweater and jeans with a belt. However that was not what made the interviewer a little concerned, no it was fact that Optimus's hair looked like the American flag with the mixed red white and blue alongside the little markings on his face just under his eyes along with scars that had also transferred over. There was also the fact that his eyes were a little too bright, his movements a tad too stiff, and the way his voice seemed nearly melodic in nature.

However since Orion Pax managed to answer the interview questions perfectly, had a clean record, and was the embodiment of politeness and patience, he was accepted in short order. Thus Optimus got himself a job at Jasper Nevada Memorial High School as history teacher.

Orion Pax befriended the entirety of the teaching staff by the end of week one with his kind disposition, patience, and wisdom beyond his years. He assisted the math teacher in grading papers and even taught him a thing or two with all the patience in the world when the teacher began to struggle. He aided the English teacher by bringing her a cup of coffee and pointing out a small error in her class prep work. He helped the gym teacher get the court set up for the lesson that day and helped him organize the various equipment in record time. He stopped the science teacher from accidentally creating a deadly gas when the teacher passed out from exhaustion halfway through an experiment, leaving Pax to carefully clean up and then grade the teacher's papers for him. Then to top it all off, he assisted the music and arts teacher in her efforts to decorate her classroom for the school year.

The staff loved him, especially the school cleaners since Pax would always stay up late to help them clean despite their protests. He was the perfect co-worker, and quickly found himself as the most loved teacher once the school year started. His students were skeptical of the teacher who looked like he crawled out some sort of cosplaying event and had an American flag for hair, but they swiftly warmed up to him due to his manner of teaching.

Optimus hadn't actually done any real research on human methods of teaching, instead relying on his own experience. In a school as out of the way as Jasper Nevada High School, the regulations were not as strict and so long as students passed their exams, he was allowed to teach as he wished. He did have to adapt a few of his methods to account for human biological limits, but he quickly garnered the students interest with how he went about his teaching.

Using a holoprojector he adjusted to look more like a human one, Optimus, or rather Pax gave the children a more interactive experience. He was passionate as he showed them history in simulations and introduced them to old battles in complicated holographic maps. His classroom was covered in star charts and old documents, studies, and artwork. Every student was urged to find something historical that interested them and dive into it with all their passion and enthusiasm. No students were left unheeded and all their issues were accounted for. The social students were grouped together and given specific historical figures to study in a manner similar to what the archivists of Cybertron did. The less social were given special homework, being required to study a specific event and bring in all they had gathered.

Students with disabilities such as dyslexia and other reading or information processing impediments were personally tutored and grouped. Those who had issues reading were given a partner who would do the reading while they took notes and sectioned out data. Those who had trouble paying attention to certain subjects were given work in areas that had their interest. A child who found warfare to be of interest would be given to mission to look into the Art of War and compile an alternate battle plan for the assault on Rome. A child who preferred the more domestic texts was to come up with a whole biography that was time period accurate for a fictional character living in their chosen era.

Every student had their education specialized to suit them best alongside the general education Orion had them listen to.

Orion was not harsh, he didn't give homework in the manner of other teachers and instead gave the students one big project to complete over the year and smaller personal research projects to complete once a month. A good archivist doesn't rush his research, no, instead time and dedication is given to ensure everything is correct and proper. He did everything in his power to instill this into his students, never putting stern deadlines on anything and instead focusing on fostering interest and a desire for truth.

He wanted his students to love history, not despise it. He wanted them to learn from the mistakes of their ancestors and move forward. And most importantly he made sure to remind them to not be angry at the past and instead see it as an example of another time. For his efforts his students loved him.

It certainly helped that he tended to tell his students altered stories of Cybertron's history, changing bits and pieces to make it seem like a legitimate but long dead human civilization. His students were enraptured with his tales and the battles he made come to life with his projector. Even other teachers would come to listen if they had free time. However to keep his students on task, he only told them stories when the completed their other class's homework before his, thus leading to other teachers finding more success in their lessons too.

After particularly good performances from his students, he would quietly teach them pieces of his culture. He told himself it was just because it was something for them to do, but deep down he knew the real reason why he did this. He didn't want everything of his people to be lost if he were to lose the war. He didn't want everything his people did to be forgotten and washed away by the tests of time. If he was to fail... he wanted something to remain with his students.

Thus he taught them everything he could. He told the other teachers that it was from an ancient culture long forgotten that he was personally studying and come up with some forged documents to prove it. Then his students were introduced to the Ancient Cybertronian language and received extra credit for every work they submitted written in it. He altered the manner in which the glyphs could be processed and spoken while still keeping it as true as possible so that his students could speak it and read it. Then he offered them even more extra credit if they spoke the language in class.

It brought him no end of joy when one Rafael Esquivel made it his mission in life to learn and speak Ancient Cybertronian. If he wasn't long used to having to remain on task even while under increadible stress he would have devoted a great deal of his time to ensuring the boy understood everything perfectly. However he abstained and kept his focus, teaching all his students equally and making sure they were still learning their own history. If Rafael came to him after school to learn more, Optimus never rejected him and taught him happily, more than a little pleased when the boy's glyphs came out as perfectly as they could considering his biology when he spoke.

He also showed his students old dances from all across Cybertron. He altered them as much as he could and gave students different dances based on personality. Students got extra credit if they could perform a dance perfectly by the end of the school year. He never really expected any of them to do it, but by Primus he was surprised when Miko Nakadai turned up guns blazing and performed three different dances from different castes as perfectly as she could considering her biological restraints. She was a terrible study, but evidently her interest in dancing was increadible. Optimus may or may not have taught her a few more dances a little later just to see if she could do it, only to be shocked beyond words when she could indeed do it.

Lastly he introduced his students to Cybertronian art which had a heavy reliance on story telling. It was an end of the year project since his students managed to burn through the curriculum in less than six months and get mostly through the next year's work before the Principle asked Pax to slow down and teach them something else for a while. Optimus thought slowing his student's growth was ridiculous, but he complied and taught them how to engrave and paint in the manner of Cybertronians. It was shortly after he began teaching this that he was yet again surprised to find Jack Darby of all his students to be the one to perform best.

The boy was an excellent engraver, to the point where if Optimus were the kind of mech he might have even let Jack engrave his outer plating. He could get the glyphs nearly perfect every time and had a gift for painting that surpassed more than a few artists from Cybertron during the golden age. It shocked and awed Optimus more than he cared to admit, and much like with his two other exemplary students, he may have slid Jack over a printed copy of some other examples of Cybertronian art from the Autobot database.

He was a proud teacher, and a fragging good one too by any standard. But that was not all, he also cared deeply for his students and got to know all of them. Bonds were a serious thing on Cybertron, especially the ones found between mentor and student. Optimus took the time to understand every student he taught, to learn their likes, their dislikes, and what their situations were. By the end of his first year teaching he already saw his students as his little archivists. He stayed out of their personal lives as much as he could considering his place, but when needed he would answer a call for help.

A student who came in hurt would find their cast covered in loving little glyphs that spoke of wishes and prayers from Cybertron. A student who had a mental illness would be given plenty of small gifts and attention to help them look on the bright side. Students with body image problems were welcomed with love, always receiving a compliment when they entered. Every student was seen to and cared for, especially in the odd case where they came to him for help.

He said he wouldn't get involved, but he was a Prime, he couldn't leave anyone in need of aid. During the singular instance where a student called him in tears at the end of the school day weeping because of their abusive parent, Optimus didn't even hesitate. His holoform was reabsorbed and his real frame moved out. He transformed and drove as fast as he could until he reached the student's residence, at which point he remade his holoform, called authorities, and may or may not have busted down the door to get his student out of there before they could be hurt further.

Not a spark touched one of his little archivists. And while he did get a fine for trespassing and property damage, Optimus had no regrets. It certainly made him feel like his actions were justified when he found a small bundle of flowers on his desk a few days later from the student he saved.

The team slowly began to get a little worried for him when he began gushing about his students around base and keeping their little gifts. When questioned he had nothing but praise for his students and in the end the team just let him be. Optimus still did the work that was needed of him around base, so why argue with him when he was far happier than any of the team had seen him in centuries. Ratchet did warn Optimus not to get attached, but by that point it was far too late if the small pile of thank you gifts and other assorted thing piled on Optimus's workstation was any indicator.

His students didn't know, but he adored their gifts. Gifts were special on Cybertron, and so for every gift he received, he returned. His little archivists were in his own mind, the best. As such when Megatron made his reappearance two years later just as his first batch of students were graduating, Optimus was actually angry.

How dare the fragger turn up and put his little archivists in danger!? It was unforgivable, especially when because of Megatron's actions, three of his students turned up at base and Optimus had to try not to sputter. Jack, Miko, and Rafael, his three most invested students when it came to Cybertronian culture. What started as a harmless little subject quickly had the children connecting the dots when it came to the team.

They thought what Mr. Pax was teaching them was rooted from Cybertronian influence, perhaps from him unearthing something from Cybertron long ago. They didn't know that Optimus was the one teaching them and still turning up to classes part time every other day after Megatron returned. How was he supposed to not get attached even more when he lived two lives, one as Mr. Pax the history teacher and one as Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots, both of which interacted with the children?

Optimus: Jack, have you turned in your school work for the week yet?

Jack: No... I've been having some trouble with glyphs.

Optimus: Oh? What are you learning?

Jack: My history teacher Mr. Pax has been teaching up about a long dead civilization that seems to have been influenced by you bots. He's been teaching us the language they used.

Ratchet: *glaring at Optimus* Oh really? I would love to hear more about it.

Miko: Yeah! The glyphs are boring, but Mr. Pax also taught us dances! See, look! *proceeds to perform a dance from central Iacon*

Bulkhead: Wait, isn't that a dance used by the-

Optimus: *holding a servo over Bulkhead's mouth* The ancient civilization I assume?

Miko: Yep! Its super fun!

Rafael: Mr. Pax also taught us how to speak the old language. I think I am fairly proficient. *proceeds to speak fluent ancient cybertronian*

Arcee: What the frag!?

Ratchet: I do believe we need to have a talk Optimus.

[jointhearumanati]

🌎 HETALIA AMERICA HEADCANNONS 🌎

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a southern drawl when he's angry through yelling ain't and y'all are common during these times

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a Boston Accent when tired

🇺🇲 Alfred slips into a Louisiana accent when making a serious point

🇺🇲 Alfred has a Bald Eagle 🦅 Tramp Stamp tattoo with the date of his independence under it

🇺🇲 Alfred has his flag tattooed on his right Bicep

🇺🇲 Alfred is the best at cooking on the Grill he even owns an electric smoker

🇺🇲🇱🇹 Alfred likes to swing dance with Tolys while putting on some old Jazz

🇺🇲🇯🇵🇫🇷 Alfred and Kiku go to Comic-Con together sometimes Francis also tags along

🇺🇲 Alfred religiously watches Ancient Aliens and goes to Alien Con

🇺🇲 Alfred likes going Whale watching they are one of his favorite animals

🇺🇲 Alfred helps conservation efforts for Bald Eagles, American Bison, and other native species

🇺🇲 Alfred doesn't drink much he prefers soda or coffee but he does drink socially usually just 1 beer or a Jack and coke but only one drink and never in his home country as it isn't legal

🇺🇲🇮🇹 Alfred and Lovino are actually good friends Lovino makes pizza to eat while they chat

🇺🇲🇨🇦 Alfred and Mathieu bought each other custom hoodies online together Alfred's is blue with a white star, and ties and Mathieu's is white with a red maple 🍁 leaf, ties and hood it's their favorite hoodies

🇺🇲🇬🇧 Arthur knits sweaters for his kids every Christmas Alfred's sweaters are Iggy made to this day

🇺🇲🇬🇧 Arthur's middle name is Ignatius that's where Alfred got the name Iggy

🇺🇲🇱🇹 Alfred has a crush on Tolys though he keeps it to himself he's fine with how things are at the moment

🇺🇲🇰🇷🇬🇧 Alfred and Im Yong Soo are besties they listen to K-pop get super hyper on sugar and hang out usually doing stupid stuff like lighting illegal fireworks one time they accidentally set Arthur's hair on fire Alfred just decided to sing his national anthem while Arthur screams and Im Yong Soo laughs hysterically in the background #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲🇬🇧 On his birthday Alfred decided dumping tea on Arthur is a patriotic activity then he books it while laughing #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲🇷🇺 one of Alfred's favorite pastimes is to Prank Ivan and try not to get killed he thinks it's hilarious it just ends in a prank war where they try to out prank each other sometimes innocent nations get involved unwillingly #Menacetosociety

🇺🇲 Alfred owns a fourwheeler and likes going mud bogging on rainy days

🇺🇲🇨🇦 Alfred Hates the cold he will try to hibernate the whole winter like a bear Mathieu however loves the cold and will stand in the cold with a tank top eating ice cream just to tease him Alfred gets him back during the summer because Mathieu hates the heat and usually cools down in a kitty pool ice bath while Alfred sits in front of him tanning and teasing him

#Alfred is a menace to society and I love him for it

[baronessvonglitter]

if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 2 | "rainy day"

Dave York x f!reader

Word count: 1,638

Summary: you're put in a sticky situation when you try on Carol's wedding ring

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, brief sexual fantasy, apart from that this chapter is about longing

Series Masterlist

You've just dropped off the girls at school and, seeing that Dave is still home (a rare occasion this late in the day) you're secretly overjoyed and make an excuse to stay near him. Carol's car is not in the driveway, so you figure she must be at a salon appointment.

"I'm going to make some more coffee. Care for a cup, Mr. York?" you casually ask, watching him at the kitchen table.

He chuckles softly and looks up at you. The look on his face is slightly amused. "Sure." His deep voice sends a tiny tremor to your heart. "I'm always up for a cup of coffee."

You notice he looks less tired today and you want to ask what's on his mind, but as he's kept his dealings with you polite and professional, you aren't sure what to say. "Happy anniversary," you tell him, realizing you forgot to say it to Carol earlier. "Looking forward to dinner tonight?"

Knowing just how he likes his coffee, you prepare it just so and fix yourself a cup as well. Joining him at the table you sneak glances at him over your coffee cup - something you'd never dare to do in front of his wife. But she's not here.

You realize he hasn't answered you, likely hasn't even heard you. "Is something wrong?" you ask.

"Hm?" He looks at you, his concentration broken and for a moment you adore the lost puppy dog look in his eyes. "Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. Everything's fine, I'm just a little tired still. Late flight.. you know." He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You simply nod and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. A torrent of rain falls from the sky and you both watch the downpour through the windows. "Looks like Mother Nature wants us to have a cozy day inside," he says jokingly, and your heart jumps to imagine what a day like that would be with him. Cuddling, kissing, fucking on the couch while an old black and white movie plays on the TV in the background.

"It'd be nice to get under the covers, read a little until I fall asleep," you say when you realize he's watching you. "Do you have to go to work today?" He was still in his pajamas: a white t-shirt and blue plaid wool pants.

"Unfortunately yes. I've got a big meeting today." He looks you over as he sips his coffee, licks the droplets from his lips. "What are you going to do with yourself all day?"

"Well, no cozy day for me either. I have to pick up the dry cleaning then make brownies for the girls' bake sale at school. And as usual, I'll be daydreaming about you.

He nods. "Well," he stands to stretch. "I'm going to go upstairs and shower."

"Of course. Don't let me keep you." Blushing a little you get up to do some dishes. By the time you're drying them, Dave comes back down, freshly showered and dressed for work. He smiles as he approaches you at the counter and helps you, and you get a little flustered at his presence, the nearness of him. "Please, you don't have to help. You're already dressed up." And boy does he look good. Black suit, crisp white shirt, and the tie that you gave him for a Father's Day present this past summer, red with silver stripes. Plus his American flag pin. In your sweater and yoga pants you feel unsophisticated. Young. Below his league.

And of course because you're flustered your clumsiness rears its head and you accidentally drop a plate on the floor and it shatters. "Oh my god! Sorry! I'll clean it up!" You race to get the broom and dustpan to tidy the floor. Dave helps you, assuring you it's fine, and when your fingers accidentally touch it's like a little shock of electricity. Your gazes meet, but you sense too much in this brief moment, and you glance at his hands, the band of gold that gleams upon his finger. "I almost forgot, I'm picking up Carol's wedding ring from the jeweler's today," you say as you sweep up the plate shards. "She's going to love the inscription you added for your anniversary." Your face is hot, as if Dave can see through your babbling. You reprimand yourself for talking too much during your nice little moment.

"Yeah, she's going to love it all right," he says faintly, as if deep in thought.

"Any woman would love that." You stand to put the broken pieces in the trash. Inwardly you berate yourself for your timidity, for perpetuating a crush that will go nowhere, and for thinking that it even could. Dave says something but you don't catch it. And when you turn around he's gone.

That afternoon Alice and Molly help you with the baking then do their homework upstairs. Alone, you eye Carol's wedding ring in its box. You read the inscription on the back: 'Two are better than one'. Just out of curiosity you try it on your own finger, imagining that Dave has selected it for you, bought it for you, offered a life of love with this gorgeous diamond. You imagine yourself saying yes, hugging him, kissing him, telling all your friends and family.. it's a silly fantasy, but it makes you smile.

Then it gets stuck on your finger.

Carol must have the most delicate hands in all the world, because out of everything you try, nothing works. Ice, water, Vaseline: all useless. It's the worst thing that could happen, and on the worst timing. You feel like an idiotic character in a sitcom. You're still trying to force it off when Dave comes home. He sees the distress in your face. "What's wrong?"

"I did something stupid." You lift your hand and show him his wife's ring on your finger. "I just wanted to try it on, and now it's stuck. I can't let her come home and see me like this.."

He tries to help you remove it without hurting you, but it proves fruitless. "All right. Well, if it's stuck on your finger it's going to have to stay for a moment." He looks amused by the situation. "I guess you're going to be wearing it for now."

Your eyes widen and you glance at your watch. "She'll be home soon.. and you have your anniversary dinner tonight.." you feel a sense of hopelessness and you wish you hadn't been so curious about something that isn't yours. "I'll make it come off, I promise. It's my fault for putting it on in the first place."

Dave smiles warmly. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself. It was an innocent mistake."

"Maybe we could keep this little incident just between us?"

"It'll be our little secret. I promise."

You hear Carol's car in the driveway. "Maybe you could distract her for a little bit? I think I know one more thing to try to get this off.."

In the kitchen you try a last minute remedy while also listening for Carol. You hear the front door open, and she says, "Aren't you going to welcome me home, Dave?"

With a rush of adrenaline you finally free the ring from your finger, put it back in its velvet box, and stuff it in your pocket. "Hi Carol! Please, let me get those grocery bags for you! I'm sure you want to start getting ready for your big date tonight," you say in a singsong voice. When she's not looking you hand Dave the box with the ring inside as you carry the bags to the kitchen.

You're shaking as you put the groceries away, but you're much calmer than before. You worry that Carol can suddenly read minds and that she'll know what you were doing with her wedding ring on.

"Dave and I are staying at a hotel after dinner tonight," Carol informs you. "We won't be back until the morning."

There's a little stab of jealousy in your heart, but it's not the first time you've ever felt it while working here. You hide your feelings with a smile and get to work on dinner for the girls. As Carol goes upstairs to get ready she leaves you and Dave alone in the kitchen. The air is rife with simmering tension, both of you curious about the other, yet maintaining a safe distance. Carol and the girls come down, the little ones ready to eat and the lady of the house dressed elegantly, leaving a cloud of Versace perfume in her wake. "We should head out now." She gives Dave a little peck on the cheek, causing both you and him to blush.

You think they've left, and you don't hear the door reopen. Dave comes back, looking a little shy, which is unusual for him. "I just.. wanted you to know how much you've meant to me since you started working here," he says, out of earshot of the girls. "You're more important to me than you think. You really help around the house and you watch over the kids. I'm glad you're here.. I'm very lucky to have you with us."

You've known Dave for several months, and he's not one to talk in circles. You have a feeling he's not saying something. "I'm the lucky one," you quietly reply.

Dave shakes his head. "You're really something, you know that?" His smile lights up his face.

You could stay here and flirt with him all night, but even though Carol's too much of a lady to honk the car horn while waiting for him, you let him know it's time to go. "Bye now. Happy anniversary, Mr. York."

He nods, winks at you, and leaves.

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dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika

[letsgetrowdy43]

Western summers ❧

Kirby Dach x reader

Very random edit, it has no plot whatsoever, just wanted to make something for bae!!

Ynofficial just posted!!

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Ynofficial EDM —> MTL

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Colecaufield breaking the distance 😚

Ynofficial 🤫

User83 this is so cunty 🤭

Colton.dach 🤨🤨

Ynbestfriend I miss you dearly 😔

User93 okay committed relationship!!

User38 I love how you post him as if none of us know who you’re dating??

Ynofficial LET ME LIVE IN DELUSION 🙏

Ynofficial just posted!!

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Ynofficial I 🫶🏻 Alberta summers

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User28 loving this era of you!!

User83 why are you wearing an American flag sweater??

Ynofficial It’s comfortable… I pretend it’s not there

Ynbestfriend you’re living my John Denver dreams 😌

Ynofficial you live 5 minutes away, come join the dream <3

Dylstrome19 ewwww

Ynofficial don’t you have a girl dad things to be doing???

User10 Dylan strome??

Kdach77 just posted!!

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Kdach77 📍Calgary stampede

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Colecaufield save a horse ride a cowboy @ynofficial ??

Kdach77 you’re a dog

User73 back to Chicago 🔜

Canadiensmtl off season king!!

User73 he said “private, not secret”

User28 I love hicks!!

Ynofficial THIGHS 🤤

Ynofficial HOT HOT HOT

Ynofficial that was really slutty of you…

Ynofficial lucky lady 🫣

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Ynofficial just posted!!

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Ynofficial it’s a Kirby girl summer 🤭

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User38 I just know she was giggling while picking out the photos…

Ynbestfriend the dog 🥹

Ynofficial IK

User83 THE SWIMMING PICTURE BITCH ?!

Colecaufield I hate (love) this

Kdach77 ❤️❤️

User28 we’ve lost him 😪

User37 plzzz tell me that was a joke!

Canadiensmtl we are all Kirby girls!!

Kdach77 just posted!!

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Kdach77 off szn memories ☀️

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User83 is that a Taylor reference?

Colton.Dach I would say ew, but I like her more than you…

Ynofficial 3/4 pictures are abt me!? I think you’re in love with me 🤭

Kdach77 🤐🤐

User29 hockey szn soon!!

Colecaufield OMG I MADE THE POST 😚

User20 priorities should be on the rink!!

User93 what 😀

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[aloysiavirgata]

Title: Fern Hill

Rating: NC-17

Timeline: pre-series

Category: XF/The Fall crossover

Summary: For everyone who asked for a Stella/Mulder prequel from my little prompt ficlet

Author’s Note:

Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,

Time held me green and dying

Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

The blonde two stools down is eyeing him unashamedly. She’s got on tight jeans and a white cable knit sweater, summer-wheat hair straight out of a Ralph Lauren ad. Eyes like Lake Tashmoo before a storm.

“You’re Phoebe Green’s American,” she observes. It isn’t a question. Her voice is buttery, a burnt-velvet purr that makes the back of his neck tingle. She sips at a rock glass full of something tawny in the subfusc gloom of the pub.

Mulder, intrigued, moves next to her. “What the fuck?”

She blinks, the barest hint of a smirk tightening her lips. “I’m not wrong.”

“I’m not Phoebe’s anything,” he replies. “She stole my Pink Floyd sweatshirt and burned my Knicks hat. She fucked a vegetarian trumpet player.”

The blonde smiles fully now. “You’re marked forever, I’m afraid. You’ve some kind of animal name, haven’t you? Bear, was it?”

He knows she knows his name, this unsettling girl. Somehow, he knows she does. “Bear,” he agrees.

“Stella,” she says, holding out a slim, white hand. “You’re Fox.”

It’s a warm plum in her mouth. Delicious, desirable, something to be proud of. Belongs in the Ralph Lauren ad with her pre-Raphaelite face and flag of golden hair.

“Mulder,” he says, shaking the proffered hand.

“Mulder.” She squeezes his fingers, then withdraws.

Mulder sips his gin and tonic, pondering. “So you know Phoebe socially,” he says. “That must be a hell of a thing. As a woman.”

Stella considers him down the length of her nose. She has the androgynous beauty of a Greek youth. A Roman statue of Minerva.

“Where do you think she got the idea for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s grave,” Stella asks.

He almost chokes on an ice cube.

“If you’re coughing you’re breathing,” she observes, dispassionate, as he nearly hacks up a lung.

Mulder’s heart rate settles back to normal after a moment. He looks at Stella, the hard lines of her cheekbones, her incongruously cute freckles.

He thinks of Stella and Phoebe together. Wonders if he could make that happen, their peony mouths and fine-boned faces. He would be willing to temporarily make up with Phoebe for it. Phoebe would love the theater of a dramatic apology and a threesome.

“Was the grave a hot tip or a shared experience?”

Stella only smiles, sphinx-link. Taps her glass in the bartender’s direction.

“Does it matter,” she asks, watching as her drink is refilled.

Tremendously.

“No. Do people do a lot of Brando impressions?” He clutches his t-shirt with an anguished expression.

She chuckles a bit at that and Mulder feels like the cleverest man in England. In the Northern Hemisphere.

“Plenty,” she says. “Which I like, because it creates a self-selecting population of people to avoid.”

People, he notes. Not men. He thinks of Phoebe again, her dark hair against Stella’s blonde, imagines ringing her up and what he’d say and-

Stella’s hand on his thigh. “Where do you live?” she asks. Her voice is obscene, her high breasts soft against the sweater, slender neck and perfume rich with amber and honey and musk.

He gulps at his drink. “Uni flat. You?”

“Summertown,” she murmurs. “It’ll be nicer than your place.”

Mulder blinks, impressed. His parents give him money but not Summertown money.

“Are you inviting me home with you, Stella?” he asks, low.

She considers him, swirling her glass. “I’m inviting you to my bed. I don’t need you lingering in my home.”

He laughs aloud while wondering if he is capable of falling for a woman who doesn’t have substantial emotional damage. “So you don’t want me to show up with two dozen roses and a box from Charbonnet et Walker?”

Stella sniffs disdainfully. “I’m not interested in the girlfriend role as a concept. I plan to finish school and be a detective.”

He perks up. “I’m planning on the FBI when I wrap up the DPhil. Don’t know that I’m interested in the girlfriend thing as a concept either at his point,” he says, knowing it savors strongly of bitterness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Stella says. “I think you’d make someone a very nice girlfriend.”

Storm-goddess eyes wicked over her glass.

He pays both tabs and watches her finish the Scotch.

***

Her flat is full of solid wood furniture and good upholstery. Some of the framed artwork appears original, and there’s a Cross Townsend pen on her walnut secretary. A stack of leather notebooks that look like Smythsons or Conway Stewarts.

He wishes he could stop this, the eternal analysis.

Her bedroom smells of lemon wood polish and clean cotton and expensive unguents. The queen bed is made, an ivory silk robe draped at the foot of it. There’s no girlish clutter on her shelves, no stuffed bear on the pillow.

There’s a copy of Where the Wild Things Are on the mantel. “Seems a little below your reading level,” Mulder observes.

“It was my favorite book when I was little.” She touches the cover. “Well, one of my favorites at least. I rather wanted to be King of All Wild Things.”

He grins at her. “You wouldn’t have even needed the wolf suit I bet. You’re a bit scary, Stella.”

She snaps her teeth.

Mulder sees the two of them in her gilt-framed mirror, Stella fierce and delicate as a faerie out of Perrault. Her pale throat, her bright eyes. In the moment he wants a cantrip that will bind her.

Her face is serious again. She unbuttons his shirt with focused dexterity, her brows furrowed, her lips pursed. Dior Poison, he sees on the vanity, and gives a name to her scent.

Stella planes her hands over his chest. “Very nice,” she says, peering up through dusky lashes. She pulls her sweater over her head, drops it to the floor. Wriggles out of her jeans and kicks them aside.

He is hard as a fifteen year old.

“I try.” He hasn’t kissed her yet, even though her mouth reminds him of a little Parisian pastry and he wants to nibble at it. Apropos of which, Mulder had expected plain cotton lingerie but it’s all frou-frou lace confectionery trimmed with rosettes and ribbons. Feminine. Delightful. Flawless.

“God, you’re so-“

“Shhh,” she says, pushing him down onto her bed with a single, imperious finger. “I know all that.”

Stella straddles his lap and he’s somehow surprised that such a large presence should weigh almost nothing.

She leans into his grasping fingers, rolls against his tensed thighs. Sighs when he thumbs the front of her panties.

“Stella….”

She leans forward to kiss him, her hard belly against his own. Her clever hands at his fly.

“Let’s see how badly Phoebe fucked up, hmmm?”

***

They had wine from a Thermos and went to bed. She’s lithe and breathless in his arms, spine like worry beads against his palms.

He’d spoken to his father who helpfully reminded him that Samantha had gone missing around this time and shouldn’t he come home to see his mother?

Stella’s fully nude, hair a long braid over her shoulder, and he tugs it experimentally.

Stella makes a liquid noise in her throat, tightens around him.

He unwinds the elastic band and works the plait loose with his fingers. Spools her hair around his hand and pulls down hard until their lips are brushing.

“Fuck,” she hisses into his mouth, and it’s what he needs somehow, the grinding pain of her little teeth and he comes and comes and comes.

***

He’s headed home in six weeks with a DPhil and an acceptance to the FBI Academy and vague praise from his parents.

“Fox,” she groans against his temple. “Fucking hell.”

Mulder nips at her throat, her hair spread behind her like the tail of a comet. “Why did you call me Fox?”

“Why did your mother call you Fox?” she asks.

“She is a very sick woman,” he says into Stella’s patrician ear.

She laughs and bites his lower lip. “Me too,” she mumbles, and her heels dig into his kidneys.

***

They never said goodbye, not really, and he meant to let her go like the tide.

His flight home is in thirty six hours.

“I thought I was ready but I- a pregnant woman,” she says flatly into the phone. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He lets her use him, her lean swimmer’s legs against his own and her skirt rucked up at her waist and her tailored Met jacket and blouse fallen open along her breasts, lacy cobweb of a bra fighting for its life.

He gazes up at her, pink and silken as rose petals.

White and distant as the moon.

“Hurt me,” she gasps. “Mulder, please, I want-”

He hurts them both.

***

He leads her into the hotel room shower, washes her princess hair while she stands still, staring at nothing.

***

He left bruises along the softest parts of her. The hidden parts, where she asked. The palimpsest of her skin will be flawless again in a few days, and he tries not to think about how else the dark things in her might like to play. He absorbed her pain like charcoal absorbs poison.

“I truly don’t know if I can do this,” she remarks to the ceiling, palms against her eyes.

He tastes her on his lips, oysters and Sauternes. He wants to nudge his face back between her thighs in the way we are called by water. She is primordial and essential and delicate and terrifying. He has an Ivy League degree in psychology, even if it’s only from Pennsylvania, and he still can’t figure her out.

“You can,” he promises, like a faithful acolyte.

“And what does it mean if I can,” she asks and he wonders the same thing about himself.

***

He fucks her against an alley wall, thick with refuse and ennui. She’s gorgeous the way that supernovas and jaguars are gorgeous.

“Stella,” he groans. “Jesus.”

“You’ll miss your flight,” she mumbles, then laughs at the idea that they care.

“You going to see me off?” he pants into her neck. “Kiss me goodbye at the gate?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I told you I have a meeting in 45 minutes.” She hitches a knee up higher. “Oh, god, like that.”

Mulder grinds into her until she cries out, nipping at his chin, his earlobes.

He follows her into the starburst haze of an orgasm, his back shuddering, and Stella hot and twitchy against his chest.

They breathe together for a moment, riding out the wave.

“We both have to go,” Stella reminds him. “A parting of the ways this time, I think.”

Mulder lowers her to the ground. He ties off the condom and shoves it into a garbage can.

He zips his jeans up, watches Stella smooth her uniform, her hair.

“Here’s lookin’ at you kid,” he says, rather lamely.

But Stella smiles one of her rare, full smiles. “One day when you’re a world famous profiler and I’m Commissioner we’ll team up,” she says.

He brushes brick dust from her shoulder. “Why are you running the Met and I’m a lowly Special Agent still?”

She looks confused. “Because I like to be in charge and you don’t. You didn’t want to be King of All Wild Things.”

He palms her jaw, thumbs her cheekbone. He smiles fondly down at her.

“Don’t,” Stella warns.

Mulder shakes his head. “No. Go, run the Met and remember the little people when you ascend the throne.”

She covers his hand with hers for a moment. “Phoebe fucked up badly,” she says. “Now go back to the colonies and teach them how to make a proper cup of tea.”

“We just throw it in the Harbor.”

Stella squeezes his hand before taking it from her face. She walks briskly out of the alley without ever looking back.

***

He makes the plane, though barely. He falls asleep over Dublin. He dreams of sailboats and lonely islands and even in dreaming he knows Stella is right. He wants to be where someone loves him best of all.

[prettybrownelf]

Can you do a ftm x Bucky or Loki when reader is very dysphoric and has bad self esteem and image and he/they just show him how much he/they love them maybe if Loki they're gender fluid

Not So Sweater Weather

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x FTM! Reader

Summary- Waking up with dysphoria is hard, but at least you have a boyfriend to help you out

Word Count- 735

Content Warnings- Heavy Dysphoria

To say today wasn't a good day would be an understatement. 

The second you woke up you could tell how the day was going to be. You had decided to take your pants off during the night due to how hot the apartment had gotten, which was a bad idea. 

The sight of your legs made you want to turn inside out. You couldn't even keep the lights on in the bathroom when you decided to finally take a shower. Even slightly looking down made you want to throw up. Everything just felt wrong, and strange, as if you were wearing skin that didn't belong to you. 

Making your way out of the bathroom you see your boyfriend happily asleep. His stupid American flag boxers made you giggle slightly as you looked at him. 

You should not be jealous of him, you know that. It makes you feel horrible when you look at him, but it's all you can think about. You should look like that, you should have been born like that, but you weren't. 

The heat in the apartment is lost on you as you throw on a sweater and sweatpants, making your way into the living room to hopefully focus on something other than your running thoughts. 

Sweat begins building up on your neck as you sit on the couch, searching for something to watch ov tv. 

Bucky walking into the room doesn't even register to you until he flops down on the couch. 

“Morning baby.” You smile a bit as you finally find something to watch. “Morning.” 

Bucky's hand is suddenly covering your forehead as you attempt to get comfortable on the couch. “Baby you're sweating a lot, are you feeling ok.” You nod with a smile, praying he doesnt see through it. “I feel fine, babe.” Bucky's face tells you everything you need to know. “Why don't you take that sweater off, it's supposed to get really hot today.” Your attempt at coming off nonchalant is ruined as you move around uncomfortably. “Really babe I'm fine.” Bucky is clearly not happy with that answer. 

“Baby, you're sweating. You're gonna give yourself a heat stroke or something.” Rational thinking isn't something you care to listen to as you finally look at Bucky. “Buck, I'm fine.” “No, you're not.” Silence fills the air between the two of you before Bucky finds his words. “Why are you wearing a sweater in the middle of summer?” His voice is soft, almost worried as he attempts to get closer. You try to keep the tears forming in your eyes down as you take a deep breath. “I just don't want to see myself right now.” Bucky nods as he finally seems to understand the choice behind your outfit. 

Instead of leaving you to sweat all day like you hoped, Bucky takes your cheek in his hand. “Listen baby.” You can already tell whatever he's going to say is going to make you cry. “I know it's really hard for you, and that I can't understand what you're going through. But maybe we can find something better for you to wear, just so that you're not sweating.” You can feel a single tear fall down your cheek that Bucky quickly wipes away with his thumb. “You don't need to wear all this just to feel better, just talk to me so we can work through it.” Instead of talking you nod, knowing that if you tried to talk you would end up sobbing on Bucky's lap. 

Bucky follows you to the bedroom as you look for something to wear. “Here! Wear one of my shirts.” He smiles, handing you a large black band shirt. Bucky probably didn't even know what the band was, he just thought it looked nice. 

You throw your sweater off, happy to finally have it off you. The second Bucky's shirt is on you, you feel him wrap his arms around you, leaving small kisses on your neck. “I'm not really sure what to say to make you feel better, but I hope you know you're really handsome.” You smile slightly to yourself as you mess with Bucky's hair. “Thanks Buck.” Bucky smiles at you through the mirror as he drags you back to the open apartment. “Now lets make some breakfast, im fucking starving.” You laugh at him as you follow, feeling at least a little better than you did before.

[wrldabomination]

My Sweet Salem

Part 2

Jake x Salem ( f! Oc)

You dabble in musical instruments mainly collecting the ones that catch your eye you love music always have. You have a dream to become a rock star one day or perhaps meet one..

2.1k words

Warnings : mentions of murder ( a tiny sentence ) almost smut ( nothing past 2nd base)

The next day comes faster then anticipated. You check your phone and it’s already 5 pm and there’s a text from Jake on your screen

Jake: I’ll see you at 7?

Salem: see you then!!!

You lock your phone setting it on your counter as you quickly hop in the shower

—————————————-

As your doing finishing touches on your make up your phone vibrates

6:55

Jake: hey sweetheart, you mind sending your address so I can head over

Salem: of course …::

You send your address quickly trying to ignore the pet name he just used..

Jake pulls into your driveway in his black jeep as you open your front door too. Leave. There he is standing preparing to knock .. he takes a step back looking you up and down in. Disbelief you’re wearing a white knitted sweater with an American flag. And light washed straight leg jeans with your cherry doc martens

“ Wow…” is the only word he could scrap up as he admired you

You both get into the jeep and head towards the mystery restaurant it’s very black tie. Kind of romantic… as we walk inside he speaks to the host “ table for 2. Under kiszka” he said sternly “ right this way sir” you hear while looking around at the decor

You’re both seated at the table. With a menu you both order your drinks.

“ Soo mr kiszka tell me a little bit more about this band of yours” you say in a playful voice “ well it’s just me and my brothers well one isn’t technically my brother but he may as well me it’s me my twin brother Josh. And my youngest brother Sam and our friend Danny “ he says excitedly you can tell he loves talking about this he’s passionate.

———————————————-

The waiter brings the check and hands it to Jake. He slips his card in the book and. Hands it back…

“ thank you … jake this has been really nice “ you say smiling “ I’m glad you enjoyed it sweetheart does this mean I’ll get a second date?” He says questionably

“ perchance “ you say giggling

As you both walk back to the jeep he stops you turn around and give him a questioning look “ what?” You say confused “ nothing” he said smiling “ just admiring “ you smile back at him. And start walking again

As he’s driving you back to your house at a red light he looks over at you “ can I take you somewhere?” He asks “ uhm.. where “ you say a little scared “ just a place. Right up this road here I come here all the time it’s really nice “ he said trying to. Make it sound less creepy “ I promise I’m not going to kill you if that’s what you’re worried about” he said jokingly . You relax a little “ sure. I have no where to be tonight” you respond “ good “ he said as he turns down the road. After a few minutes. He parks the car.. it’s an empty field you swallow a little hard. A tiny bit scared of what’s to come “ do you trust me “ he said as he reads your expression “ y-yes” you say hesitantly “ well come on then “ he said getting out of the car practically running towards the field. You chance. After him he falls. Down on his back in the middle of the field and you look at him…. “ get down here Salem. Let’s watch the stars” he said smiling you lay down next to him. As he puts one hand under his head.. you look at the stars in awe you can see them. Extremely well considering there’s no light pollution “ it’s really pretty” you say “ not as pretty as the sight next to me “ he reply’s. Turning to his side. You look at him seeing him smile he reaches his hand up rubbing his thumb across your cheek.. you can feel your stomach do a flip as you close your eyes..

“ god your beautiful” he says “ so tell me sweet sweet Salem, why in the world we’re you so intrigued by that SG” he asked “ well I actually collect guitars and other musical instruments but mainly. Guitars I have every other color of the SG except for that one which I now have.. thank you by the way “ you say smiling “ your welcome sweet heart” he said as he leans in closer to you inches away from your face your heart is beating rapidly you inch a little closer.. he looks at you for approval and you slightly nod.. with the. Confirmation he closes the space between you two kissing your lips like his life depends on it… Your lips tangled with his as he turns over. Now he’s on top of you he starts to kiss down your neck to the collar of your sweater he tugs at the hem of it asking to take it off and you nod. As his hands roam. Trying to rid you of the sweater He never breaks the kiss. Finally getting the sweater off he starts to kiss down your body on your breasts your collar bones your stomach stopping at your pant buttons. He looks up at you. Asking for permission.. you speak up “ I Uhm I - I don’t usually do this on the first date..” you say nervously after you’ve come so far. He immediately takes his lips off you “ oh I’m Uhm I’m sorry I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry “ he said concerned “ it’s okay jake just not yet “ i said slipping my sweater back on “ maybe you should take me home it’s getting late “ he nods and you both make it back to the jeep

————————

He pulls into. Your driveway and turn the jeep off.. “ so about that second date?” He said. Laughing “ I did really enjoy tonight “ I said. Tapping my finger to my chin” hmmmmm. Sure why not “ you said smiling “. Great. So you know how my band is playing at that music festival. Wednesday?” He asked “ yes” you respond “ would you like to come. A free barricade ticket my side stage ?” You look shocked taken aback even “ oh Uhm- su- sure yes yes “ you say excitedly leaning over and kissing his cheek. “ I’ll see you Wednesday. Okay jakey?” You said smiling “ sounds like a plan sweet heart haves goodnight Salem” “goodnight jake” you said walking to your front door opening it..

You walk inside. And to your room you prob down on your bed smiling ear to ear.. maybe he isn’t that bad you say to yourself..

[beau-mchale]

July 4th, 2009

“What the hell is that?” Beau drawled as he rested his hands on his hips, looking at the girl in front of him with a crooked, amused grin.

“My festive and patriotic get-up.” The blonde replied, as if it were obvious. She shrugged her tanned shoulders, where the summer sun had kissed her skin in a splattering of freckles.

“That’s a damn napkin tied together with some string.” Beau argued with a shake of his head, tearing his eyes away from her tiny, American flag bikini and low-waisted denim shorts. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand: hosing out the cow’s water trough. “Where are you going dressed like that, Peach?” He tried to sound less possessive and more curious; using her nickname with an edge of dominance.

“Um, the fair, duh!” Peach clearly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Aren’t you going?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Beau replied, now filling the troughs with fresh water. The sun was just finally descending, allowing the cooler, less humid air of a summer night to take over. The breeze felt good against his sweat-slicked forehead. “And you better bring a dang sweater because you’re gonna get cold.”

Peach about had enough of Beau, and she let him know but letting out a loud laugh. He loved that laugh. “One, you’re coming to the fair, and two, I don’t need a sweater. I’m from the north, remember? I never get cold.”

✩  ✩  ✩  ✩  ✩  ✩  ✩  ✩

“Do not say it.” Peach gritted from between clenched teeth as she hugged her body, her arms covered in goosebumps. Beau chuckled and slipped off his denim jacket, before handing it to the small, shivering girl. “Take this before you freeze to death.”

“That’s dramatic.” She quipped, pulling the jacket on. “It’s only chilly when the breeze picks up.”

“Thanks to the ocean winds.” Beau replied, “I know we’re a little ways from the beach but we still get those wicked cold fronts.”

The two of them wandered through the crowded Musella 4th of July fair, surrounded by red, white, and blue lights, laughter, and the nostalgic smell of fried dough. They set it up every year in the Walmart parking lot that overlooked town. Beau couldn’t help but continuously steal glances at Peach, noting how exceptionally good she looked wearing his clothes. He wished he could see it more often, if he wasn’t such a coward.

The granddaughter of his employers was not where he should be laying. There were many reasons for that, but the main was how badly he needed his job. But, damn, her sweet and sour personality and tight, little body were irresistible to him.

“Let’s get a good seat for the fireworks.” Beau decided, breaking himself out of an inappropriate daydream that included untying her string bikini. Peach agreed happily and grabbed his hand, tugging him through the crowd until they got to the edge of the parking lot. They sat side by side on a guardrail that separated the lot from a steep hill that led to town. 

“You need to loosen up.” Peach said to Beau, elbowing him playfully in the ribs before she looped her arm through his. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he felt an unfamiliar warmth fill his chest. Fuck, he was screwed.

“Oh yeah?” Beau replied, reaching across his body with his free hand to gently touch her cheek. Peach lifted up to look at him, her pretty face a mixture of curiosity and need. He gently stroked her jaw with his thumb, counting and memorizing every freckle scattered across her nose. “How’s this?”

Leaning down, Beau bestowed a slow, deep kiss to Peach’s mouth. Their tongues connected as an explosion hit the sky. They kissed earnestly, with a sweetness to it that was even more foreign to Beau. The fireworks illuminated over them as a flame caught deep within him. He knew that this flame may become an inferno, or maybe fizzle to a smolder, but no matter what… it would never go out.

[barflovski]

What are your gender headcannons for the main 5 + anyone else you wanna mention

Stan: fem nonbinary, he/they. Doesnt care too much about gender, but becomes uncomfortable if anyone refers to him as a boy or a girl. Still uses the label gay though, because he feels it fits him best. Stan hardly puts much thought into how he dresses (he wears the same american flag jacket and broncos t-shirt constantly without washing them. He’s greasy asf) EXCEPT for when he dresses fem. He goes all out then and loves to express that side of himself, especially at Crimson Dawn concerts. He likes sweaters n tank tops and skirts. They especially like their outfits since they can’t dress fem much because Randy would fuckin freak and South Park isn’t exactly an open town to that kind of stuff.

Kyle: cis male, he/him. Becomes pissy if someone asks him his pronouns because he takes it as them not perceiving him as male. For sure answers with “the boy ones”. He’s not transphobic though, just very self-conscious, especially about his appearance.

Cartman: bigender, she/he. Calls you a fag if you ask him his pronouns. But if you get them wrong he’ll berate you. Her pronouns are just kind of implied to everyone. Calls herself both a man and a woman, and is in touch with both sides of herself. She’s very comfortable with her gender. LOVES to dress up and put on costumes. But when dressing casually he usually just wears a t-shirt and either a skirt or shorts. Doesn’t take anyone’s shit if they make fun of him for dressing fem.

Kenny: genderfluid, any pronouns. Like Eric, they’re very comfortable with their identity. And everyone had kind of seen this coming ever since the princess Kenny thing- Kenny had started using any pronouns ever since he had turned like 12 or so. Only calls himself a girl, Karen calls Kenny her big sister, but he’s still fluid. He just has fun with it and dresses however the hell he wants. Usually they just dress comfortably.

Marj: trans girl, she/her. Realized she was a girl at age 14, but struggled internally for a long time because her parents are fucking douches and for sure wouldn’t accept that. But after she started dating Eric he helped her come to terms with herself and her gender, and now she’s out at school and the gang. but NOT her parents, she does a lot to make sure they never figure it out. She’ll usually keep a pair of her girl clothes on her when she goes out and changes outside of the house.

I have strong thoughts about these 5 with their gender identities, especially since even in canon they’re all very expressive about it (for instance Eric dressing in drag constantly, princess kenny, Kyle’s extreme persistence that he is a Boy, Stan’s struggle with gender in the cissy, and Butters’ overall side with femininity). But other than these 5, Wendy is nonbinary she/they, and Kevin Stoley is nonbinary they/them.

[mysticalsoot]

oh boy do i have vampbur thoughts

i just really like him

i feel like because he'd be a vampire and he's kinda dead but not (??) he'd be cold all the time, and i just imagine him in that one grey sweater with like oh god is it ronald reagan on it or something and like the american flag LMAO (i don't know what it is but i reeeeaaallly like seeing him in that sweater) but like he's all "i'm cold :(" and would jus beg to cuddle

like when he gets up and when you get up would be like complete opposite i feel? even if he can go out during the day, it just feels more natural for him to be nocturnal , like it's instinct. so he's probably up all night while you sleep, and then you're up all day while he sleeps

and maybe one night you can't sleep or you're having trouble falling asleep and he wakes up, has his "breakfast" or whatever, and then sees you still awake like "what are you doing???"

he'd either offer to keep you company while you stay up, or be willing to head right back to bed with you even if he just woke up just because it would help you sleep

maybe he makes you tea or hot chocolate or something nice and warm that you like

GOD i got carried away hkejhjhjkg but those are a few of my thoughts that have been locked away for soooo long excuse any errors or if something doesn't make sense it's like midnight

dude- nico, I love you so much oml you are wonderful

he's so whiny about being cold!! and his hands are usually like ice so he'll sneak up on you from behind and put his hands on your back under your shirt only for you to practically scream at him. he thinks it's so funny!! it is not but- you'll give him cuddles if he pouts enough (and that he does)

while he's asleep and you're awake, you sneak little naps on him like- just go and lay on him and he'll wake up enough to register it, kiss your forehead before he passes out again. just- he immediately wraps his arms around you.

midnight (for you) breakfasts are just perfect. you'll wake up and sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and just whine at him while he giggles at you and kisses your face and like sits you on the counter while he cooks and sneaks you little bites of what he's making.

If he heads back to bed with you!!! immediately wrapping around you. like obviously he's the big spoon but occasionally he'll just whine at you to be the little spoon and so he just curls up while you wrap around him and shit- he loves it.

no no you did not get carried away oml- the happiness and joy I felt getting this in my inbox was immaculate- you are wonderful nico

[artblockastor]

[ID: multiple digital, colored drawings of the same, pale girl with various hair colors and outfits, all of them including a white surgical mask pulled over her mouth and nose. The first drawing is of the girl, named Buffy, with black, curly hair, dyed a dark green at the ends. She’s wearing a black sweatshirt tucked into a long, flowy black skirt with a studded belt, two chains clipped to the belt, and she has a pair of black boots on. She’s accessorized with a black choker, which displays a vintage cameo charm. The second drawing is of the same girl with dark, blood red hair, the same boots and skirt from the first drawing, a t-shirt with two people kissing on it and the words “Yayx3 Rvnge” (meant to be a parody of the album cover of My Chemical Romance’s album “Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge”), with a long, red and black striped cardigan overtop. The third drawing is of Buffy with black rooted hair that’s been dyed dark red for the most part, with blue streaks at the ends, all tied up in a half-up half-down hairstyle. She’s wearing a grey-blue turtleneck sweater with sleeves that almost cover her hands, and a darker grey-blue velvet dress (with a skirt ending at her knees) overtop, along with black tights and black boots. The fourth image is of Buffy with her hair the same colors as last time, but this time in a ponytail. She’s wearing a dark red t-shirt with a grey tank top over it, and an unzipped, sleeveless, black hoodie over that. She also has a black pleated skirt (ending above her knees), black fishnet stockings, black and dark red-striped knee-high socks, and black high-top converse. She’s accessorized with black and red striped elbow-length fingerless gloves, a few leather cord necklaces and bracelets, some red, black, and white wooden beaded bracelets, and a belt with two chains clipped onto it. The fifth image is of Buffy with black and silver-streaked hair, tucked into a navy blue beanie hat, with just the bangs and some strands sitting out in the front. She’s wearing a light grey t-shirt that has some black stick figures on it (one of whom seems to have an American flag draped over their shoulders), and the text “USA: pretty, crazy” (meant to be a parody of the cover of Fall Out Boy’s album “American Beauty, American Psycho”), which she wears with a light blue plaid jacket, black jeans, black converse high tops, and a studded belt with two chains clipped on. End ID]

Hello, y’all!

I’ve had this one character for about four years now, and just like me, she’s dressed like Adam Sandler since her creation. Unfortunately, out of my cast of characters, this one is far from the only poor sweet creation of mine subjected to my tragic lack of style. So, I figured it was about time I at least attempt to fix that.

I figured I should start off this series(??) of Character Closet Makeovers with some rather casual outfits for my dear child Buffy Whinsnap.

Most of these outfits are meant to be relatively comfortable, warm (with the option to be less so), and easy enough to maneuver in while still looking cute and being something Buffy would enjoy. She takes a liking to many different clothing styles, but seems to like outfits from alternative-inspired styles, like goth, scene, and cottage/forestcore. Here we mostly see outfits inspired by gothic and scene-esq ideas, but Buffy likes to keep her number of clothing pieces relatively low, and also loves being able to show off the band tees and trinkets she’s collected. I hope to add more forest/cottagecore outfits in the more formal addition to her closet makeover.

I like adding little tags describing or giving insight on some objects/clothing pieces! Apologies if my handwriting is illegible :’)

I know this outfit isn’t technically true or traditional goth, but it’s as best as Buffy can really do right now with her income and allergy to plastics. Most of her clothes are cotton or some other natural fiber. The only time she can really afford to wear any sort of plastic is if it’s not going to touch her skin. Because of her having allergic reactions to coming into contact with plastic, she often wears long sleeves and sometimes even gloves in crowded public areas to avoid being hurt. Also yeah I was thinking of Winona Ryder in Beetlejuice whilst drawing this what of it sue me I can’t help the fact that she’s pretty and iconic and that I’m definitely attracted to women admit it you think she’s pretty too

Buffy loves her Our Chemistry’s Affair “Yayx3 Revenge” shirt almost as much as she loves not having to look people in the eye by just ✨having her hair cover her eyes✨ My girl’s like five feet tall, the only ones capable of looking her in the eye are toddlers, hyper elementary schoolers, and anxious insecure middle schoolers who are too busy or anxious to look her in the eyes anyway. The perks of Not Talking and having fluffy hair ig.

Her cardigan is cozy, but also slips off easily. This may sound annoying, but she actually appreciates it. If someone’s chasing her and grabs the tail of her cardigan, or it gets caught on something, she can just keep running and it won’t hold her back. Then she can go back later because who would let a good cardigan go to waste like that

This is one of her more generic outfits, yes, but there are several perks to it!

The long sleeves help keep her warm, which is good already (temperature regulation who?), but the sleeves are really long and can be unfolded to be used as grips or mitts to handle hot or rough things. Her corset may not seem super conventional, but it’s actually helpful in many ways. It can be used to hide thinner things (paper money, cards, small pouches of medicines, etc), and is made of quality leather and reinforced with interlocking wooden plates which can help protect against blunt force and stabbing attacks.

This outfit was really fun to design! I wanted to give her a brighter, more energetic, scene-inspired outfit. I would’ve given her the early 2000s knee-high Converse, or platform Converse, but let’s be honest: she’s not going to spend that long lacing up shoes, and there’s no way she’d be able to run and fight in five-inch platforms atm.

Buffy never goes anywhere without a long-sleeved shirt or jacket, and I’m well aware of this. Problem is, I REALLY wanted to give her those elbow-length, striped fingerless gloves. So I decided to commit a “fashion atrocity” (or so I’ve been told) and give her a sleeve-optional hoodie. To be honest, I think it looks okay. Something popular in the scene fashion is LAYERS. So many layers. Everywhere. So I figured a third and obvious layer could work with this outfit. What do you think? Buffy thinks it’s a good idea despite the potential judgement, because detachable sleeves have many uses. Hot? Take the sleeves off. Cold? Put the sleeves back on. In need of an emergency rope? Take a sleeve off and use it for that. Also in need of a makeshift tourniquet? Sleeve. Maybe we should all just start wearing detachable sleeves in case someone grabs/stabs at us?

I feel like Buffy would’ve loved wearing khandi jewelry, with all of their fun colors and patterns, and ability to easily cover scarring and stains, but khandi in the scene fashion is almost always made of plastic, and Buffy’s not going to subject herself to allergic reactions just for fashion and some nice clinking noises. So, she got some khandi bracelets made out of wooden beads! And the good news is that they can be used to start a fire in an emergency, so she feels carrying these random bracelets around is justified. I would’ve given her some coon tail hair extensions too, but I didn’t really know how to work those into her hair, since she tries to avoid using heat on her hair and therefore wouldn’t be straightening it, so the coon tails might look out of place.

Buffy usually tries to avoid wearing lighter colors due to stain risks (pasta sauce, dirt from falling off her horse, stab wounds, ink tears, etc.), but one of her few exceptions (“you are the only exception”) is her gray Nuclear Boii t-shirt (yes I will be drawing off-brand band tees until the day my soul passes on), and the light blue flannel she likes pairing with it. The good news is that this flannel is vintage and made of quality materials, which means that (despite the slashes and holes Buffy’s had to sew and patch up) it’s more durable and easier to use in situations that call for bindings and blankets. Her only real problem with this flannel though, is that it’s hard to add hidden pockets to it because you’d see the bulging. Good news is that bobby pins exist for the sake of her beanie. She can’t hide too much inside of the beanie itself, but her hair is thick and abundant, and could easily hypothetically stash money, meds, needles, thread, and/or a knife or two. Who knows what’s in there? Just don’t touch the hat. Or the hair. Or her, in general. She’s low-key germaphobic. There’s a reason she almost never leaves her house without a mask on.

Anyway, thank you for glancing in the direction of this post! And if you’ve gotten this far, then.. what are you doing? Go get some rest. You’ve come a long way through the seas of my endless rambling.

TL;DR: I like designing outfits every now and then, and apparently I like to rant?

Stay tuned for more, assuming the art block doesn’t prevail!

[rfaromance]

"Is this necessary?"

"Yes."

"What kind of deluded birthday events do they have in America, anyway? What do cat ears represent on a birthday for a human? It makes no sense."

"Saeran! You can't assume you know better about it than Ariella, or me! We've both been there. She lived there and I spent plenty of time there to pick up the culture around a birthday party! Cat ears are almost the most important thing."

"Okay, well, then SHE should be wearing them since it's her birthday, not us."

"No, no. The point is that we're a part of a pack! The best family of lost cats that found each other! This makes more sense when you know the context for it and why it's so crucial you wear ears and meow the birthday song."

"I am only tolerating these ears, Saeyoung."

"Because you want your sister-in-law to smile on her happy day! That's so sweet!"

Saeran made a face of disdain. He hoped this would not happen again in a week when it was their stupid birthday again. He sighed and looked away from his brother, who was deep in the throes of adding some finishing touches to the room. Streamers and half a dozen paw prints littered the bunker. He said there was a puzzle of some sort that had to do with paws that Ariella was busy with.

Which, that was weird to Saeran but he really didn't know much about what Americans did. He didn't want to question it or learn more at this point since it seemed like it was a mess waiting to happen all at once. He knew enough for the time being.

Saeyoung was over the moon, though. He wanted to make this an exciting day for Ariella. That part wasn't bad. It was the whiskers he painted on and the ears that were the problem. He grumbled into his sweater, which was only bearable in the bunker since the weather outside was blistering again. He only wanted to do this to appease the poor woman.

They were... reluctant friends, after all.

If you could even call them friends. Ariella said they were but Saeran was still wary. She was too much... like a person that Saeran knew didn't deserve to be around. Still, her company wasn't all that bad. This just felt like a mess waiting to happen. It just wasn't how he would spend his own birthday. He wouldn't spend his birthday doing anything anyway. It wasn't particularly a day he enjoyed.

But, he supposed Ariella deserved to have a good day. That was the only reason he looked ridiculous.

"Saeyoung Choi, you know I love puzzles as much as the next person alive but if you're going to make Blue's Clues, you need to put the paw print where I can reach it! I made Zen climb a flag pole to get me the last clue!" was the call of Ariella's voice from the garage.

Saeyoung knew how to use his time wisely... even if he was a moron. Saeran thought. Saeyoung laughed at her grumbles, though. He did those things to see how long it would take her to find everything. Those footsteps that came down the hall were familiar for him. She was coming in with the intent to find out what her prize was. She loved his dumb puzzles to death.

Saeyoung was beaming ear to ear when she came inside. It didn't take Ariella long before she noticed the prints across the floor and the solitary one on the back of his shirt. If only because she saw it just as she rounded the corner to interrogate him and realized her party was set up for her to celebrate.

"My last clue, huh? Let me guess, it's the handsome little kitty who asked all his friends to set up a party for me. He worked his biscuit making paws down to the bone to make it happen," she murmured.

"It's your favorite kitty," Saeyoung corrected her as he spun around to face her properly. "Plus, I got the rest of your warrior clan dressed up for you! Just... not Zen. He's a mysterious dog that decided he had no choice but to protect the kittens."

"You dork," she flung her arms around his neck. "I love you."

"Happy birthday, starlight."

Saeran grumbled. "Would you two stop trying to suck faces when everyone is here? I was promised ice cream cake for this. The birthday girl owes me a slice for looking this ridiculous."

"Aw, you look adorable, Saeran. Thank you for your birthday wishes! But, I get the first slice of cake. It's the rule."

Ariella gets the first slice, but Saeran gets the biggest.