happy birthday @hollywoodcassiecage, have a baehee 🙌
i saw u post about having a bad bday so i was hoping to cheer u up
also sorry its kinda sloppy and grey, i had to rush the shading and all that bcs time runs goddamn fast and for the first time in my life i was swamped
Ladybug eyes the motorcycle purring quietly away beneath Chat’s hands with doubt.
“When you said I was going to be entertained, this isn’t what I imagined,” she says, hands on her hips. Her eyes follow the blades of silver light running along the polished, black metal of the motorcycle’s solid frame, up to the point where Chat’s leather-clad leg bisects the view as he braces his feet against the ground. Her gaze travels up, instead, to the sleek leather of his tight pants, to the tailored, fitted cut of his bulletproof jacket.
The thing about leather is that it leaves little to the imagination- little, but just enough…
“Want to ride me?” Chat offers.
Ladybug can see the way her jaw drops open at the suggestion, reflected in the mirror-clean visor of Chat’s helmet. The visor slides up with a sharp click in the next second, revealing his green eyes, acid-bright in the night and comically wide in panic.
“Ride with me, with me,” he squeaks, voice cracking in his haste to correct himself. He coughs, and hurriedly adds, “It’s super safe, I promise.”
Except that Chat’s definition of safe is often way off base from her own. Ladybug still vividly remembers the one time he leaped off a building and landed on his moving motorcycle with a wild, exhilarated whoop that did not match the rush of sheer terror that jammed her heart up her throat at the time. She’s pretty sure he knocked off at least five years off her lifespan in that single moment.
Still, when his hand unfolds out toward her, she takes it without a second thought.
“Like flying, you said?”
“Hey, you’ve got your magical supersuit,” he laughs. “These are my wings.”
Ladybug can feel the moment she gives in as his eyes sparkle at her. She swings a leg over the motorcycle and settles in snugly behind Chat, wriggling until her front is pressed to his back. Her hands take their time ghosting up his hips and around his lean waist; even through the leather, she can feel his pulse quicken, can see when his breath hitches in his throat even as he slides his visor back down.
“Alright handsome boy,” she purrs into his ear, underscoring the heavy beat of his thundering heart. “Show me what you’ve got.”
The motorcycle stirs beneath them before awakening with a roar. Chat kicks off, and then only the wind catches Ladybug’s delighted shrieks as they race down the empty city streets.
Riding his motorcycle always fills Chat’s veins with adrenaline, but Ladybug’s exhilarated laughter and warm, possessive hold around him makes him feel positively electric. The city passes by them in flashes as they travel along the lightning of the moment.
“Enjoying yourself?” Chat yells back at her.
Her grip around him tightens, and the way her hands splay over his chest is not entirely necessary for her safety, but is utterly capable of producing a flush that shudders over his whole body.
“Definitely!” she yells against the wind, the teasing grin audible in her voice. “But if you wanted flying, then I can do one better.”
- - -
“This is falling,” Adrien argues. His helmet and motorcycle rest in a tucked away alleyway, safe from any curious passerby and woefully far from the high rooftop he and Ladybug stand on.
“You coming, chaton?” Her yoyo swings in lazy circles as she beckons him over to her with her free hand. He comes, irresistibly drawn to her like a magnet.
“My turn to show you how it’s done,” Ladybug laughs. Her yoyo snaps back to her hip before she turns around and offers her back, gesturing clearly for him to hop on.
He slowly steps right up behind her, savouring the way her muscles tense at his proximity. His breath ghosts along her neck, raising goosebumps, before he murmurs, “Ready?”
Before she can answer, he jumps up and wraps himself around her back, hooking his legs over her hips and slinging his arms over her shoulders. He laughs, a shit-eating grin on his face, as Ladybug curses and stumbles at the sudden weight. She quickly finds her balance again and straightens up, turning her head to the side so he can see the unimpressed look on her face. Mischief glitters bright in her the sky of her eyes though, betraying her amusement.
“Dirty trick,” Ladybug comments.
“Nothing dirty about it,” Adrien assures her with a wink. He chuckles against her neck as she turns to face the front again with a huff, a blush rising from the high collar of her suit. His hold around her tightens as she braces a hand under one of his legs and unhooks her yoyo from her hip with the other.
“Don’t scream,” she reminds him.
“Not a problem.” Then, as her yoyo begins spinning before them, he asks, “Do I even weigh anything to you?”
“Nah, it’s like holding a couple of grapes,” Ladybug laughs. Despite the levity of her answer, heat pools at the bottom of Adrien’s stomach as he marvels at her strength, at the way she effortlessly, easily holds him up. Before he can worry about the unexpected turn of his thoughts, her yoyo whips out, hooks onto a nearby rooftop, and launches them into the air, saving him from himself.
He’s watched her fly over the cityscape dozens, hundreds of times, through camera feeds he’s hacked into from his computer, and through the dark visor of his helmet when he rides out into the streets to help her. Ladybug is nothing but purposeful and sure in her every move, her every step. He’s seen it, over, and over, and over again.
But feeling it is something else entirely. Even with his added weight, she lands and leaps with total control, with an ease and confidence to be envied. They soar up into the clear night air, high enough until they seem like the only two people in the world with all the city laid before them.
The wind flying by on the long drop down claims Adrien’s wild, ecstatic whoop. When his eyes begin to water from the speed, he buries his head into the crook of Ladybug’s neck, laughter still spilling over in his giddiness.
“I still don’t know if I’d call this flying,” he says, his lips tracing her skin. He can feel her swallow as his words press on her neck, can feel the way she falters ever so slightly as she swings them both down to land on the solid ground of a rooftop. Emboldened, he gives a little nip, smiling at her quiet gasp, before humming, “It’s falling.”
Ladybug stills, her muscles tense, her breaths coming in quick and hot. That can be blamed on adrenaline and exertion- but not entirely.
Adrien murmurs, “I’m still falling.”
His steel-toed boots hit the ground and Ladybug turns on him like fire unleashed, grabbing his collar and pulling him down into a deep kiss that has him not flying, not falling, but floating and seeing stars. He wastes no time in winding his hands around her slim waist, his fingers tracing the curved red pattern of her suit.
“That was so cheesy,” Ladybug groans breathlessly as they break apart.
“It worked,” he grins as she pulls the zipper of his jacket down.
“If you’re free enough to talk, you’re free enough to make good on your promise to me earlier,” she reminds him, her hands diving beneath his jacket to trace hard muscle beneath the thin black turtleneck. Her fingers rake over his stomach and she grins as she feels him gasp at her touch.
Instead of coming onto her strong like she expects, Adrien lifts her chin up with a hand and captures her lips in a soft, slow kiss. The unexpected tenderness completely wipes her mind blank as she sinks into him, heat simmering low in her belly. His hand tangles into her hair and just as she begins to relax, he gives a sharp, authoritative tug, pulling a moan from her throat as her head rears back.
Ladybug’s hands bunch the bottom of his turtleneck up in frustration, but she gives as good as she gets as she hooks her fingers into his belt loops and pulls his hips flush against hers, startling a groan from Adrien.
Undeterred, his head dips down, lavishing attention onto whatever bare skin he can reach. He leaves a necklace of kisses and hickeys around her throat for her to wear. His grip on her hair tightens when she tries to lean forwards to kiss him again, leaving him free to take his time planting kisses along her cheeks, her forehead, the corners of her mouth, everywhere but where she wants it most.
He gets closer and closer then always denies her, until a frustrated whine finally escapes her.
With Ladybug’s short hair and long ribbons hopelessly tousled from his hands, her cheeks flushed a bright red, and her eyes burning fever bright in excitement and want, Adrien grins as he leans forward to purr into her ear.
Fall Fashion for Trans Guys Who May or May Not Still Be Closeted
In my opinion, Autumn is probably the best time to be a trans guy! Just look at what comes up when you search “men’s fall fashion!”
But why does this make me so happy? Because it instantly gets cold enough for big sweaters, long-sleeved plaid shirts, closed-toed shoes and long pants. And what’s more, the department stores carry this clothing in bulk.
But what if you’re not really out yet? What if you can’t sneak over to the boys’/men’s section while you’re clothes shopping with mom?
The most besterest thing about fall is you can find all these things also in the girls’/women’s section.
Some things that can be a closeted, dysphoric trans guy’s best friends during fall:
Boyfriend pants. I shit you not, they’re literally fitted like men’s pants. Buy them a size larger than you need and you’re instantly presenting as masculine, and make sure they’re not cuffed. The pockets are big, and if you can’t find them at walmart, the best brand I found is on wish.com by the store helen belli. They’re soft, inexpensive, durable, and arrive in about 2 weeks.
Button up white shirts. Women’s button up whites are easy enough to find, but they’re often fitted in the waist and have little boob-pockets. So what do you do?
Stick a vest or a nice sweater over it! Vests and sweaters are always available in stores during fall and winter. Buy some in different colors that make you feel more masculine. Maybe buy a size larger than you need if you feel self-conscious about the fit around your bust or waist area.
Large sweaters and sweatshirts! These were my life-saver in my youth. I would get the most neutral-looking ones (usually black or gray) and I would buy them two or three sizes too large. They would engulf me and give me a shapeless figure, which I loved. Worn with a pair of baggy pants, or cargo-shorts my brother outgrew, this outfit gave me a less-feminine appearance and helped make me feel more like myself.
Beanies and knitted scarves! Beanies. They’re good for attempting to tuck up your hair (bobby pins are your bffs in this case), or if you have a short cut they’re good at hiding it if mom likes to style your hair like a cute little pixie cut or with little clips and such before you leave for school. I never went anywhere without my beanie. And why scarves? I never liked them, but they can be used in different ways to hide a thin, feminine neckline or collar bones, or just because scarves look cool and keep you warm.
Socks and shoes? So, my sock choice was always meant to make my legs look more boyish. Now I like crazy socks. But if you’re looking for less femininity in your ankles, mid-length black or white athletic socks are good. And shoes are generally neutral, go for a pair of black or tan vans, or some kind of high tops or hiking boots, and you’re good to go!
Plaid. Enough said ;)
I hope this has helped, It is in no way intended to uphold gender roles, only to help those of us who wish to feel more comfortable in our own bodies.
Requested: Your such a talented writer and I was just wondering if I could request an imagine where y/n gets in a car accident where like she breaks her hip/ back and has to be in a wheelchair and just like fluffy Shawn taking care of her thank you so much ! Ps: never stop writing your so good
Requested: This is probably a little bit of a different request than usual; but could you possibly do one where Shawn’s girlfriend is disabled/in a wheelchair and he’s caring for her?
It has been three months since the car accident that damaged your spinal cord and altered your entire life in a split second. Because of medical issues, you had to return home and take time off from University. Since the damage to your spinal cord made you lose the use of your legs, you have to depend on your parents to take care of you, which has been a huge and difficult adjustment from what you were used to. Before the accident, you had lived in your own apartment near your University, so coming home and no longer being independent has been difficult on top of the fact that you can’t even go to the bathroom alone anymore. The doctors are hopeful that you’ll be able to walk again, but the progress has been so slow and frustrating. These three months have been long and so difficult for you. The light at the end of the tunnel can barely be seen. You have to relearn to walk, something that you never thought you would have to do.
Shawn is finally coming home. He had been away for a month because of work, but he’s finally on his way, and you can’t wait to see him again. That has been the only thing you’ve had to look forward to for a while now.
I’ve fallen deep into bnha and wow… the I Am… series by @aoimikans and @swiftwidget is one of my favourite AUs of all time. If you haven’t read it you really should because the entire thing is absolutely amazing!! I just had to try drawing their AU’s version of Toshinori (who is an absolute sweetheart and deserves a nap. let this poor man rest)
Shiro: The head of voltron.Though he’s always level-headed, he’s struggled w/ regaining memory of his year in alien captivity. Everyone’s depending on him to lead, but he doesn’t want a repeat of what happened to his team on the Kerberos mission. Keith:The sword arm. Dedicated to fighting for the team. Kieth struggled with finding himself, reaching to space for answers about his past. Pidge: The shield arm. Protective of those she cares about, Katie never stopped reaching to space to find her family. She misses them dearly, but must remain with the team to deal with the threat of the Galra Empire. Lance: Voltron’s right leg. He’s essential and supportive of the team (though clashes with Keith at times) & smiles with them though his heart badly aches for home. Hunk: Voltron’s left leg. Hunk is the other major support for his team. He misses home as well, and like a team Mom of sorts, he worries for his friends and the dangerous situations they get into.
You're probably not still awake, but, um...I like #41 with klance.
41 - “Go back to sleep.”
Lance is woken up by his mattress shifting. There’s a faint sound of some rustling and he hears a soft click. He blearily opens his eyes to see Keith entering his bedroom. Keith freezes, wide eyed, at the foot of his bed.
“Keith?” Lance murmurs. He sits up and feels the cool air hit his bare chest. He waits for Keith to tell him that they’re under attack, or that Allura is ordering a meeting right at this moment… but Keith just stands there.
His jacket is gone, as are his gloves, pants and boots. He wears only his t-shirt and a pair of rumpled boxers. Not exactly fighting attire.
“What are you doing here?” Lance asks when it becomes obvious that Keith is not going to say anything.
“I… I don’t know.” His eyes flit down to the ground. His fingers nervously card through his long hair.
“Did you sleep walk?”
“Did you get lost?”
“I don’t… no… look, just forget it.”
“Do you want…?”
“Go back to sleep.”
Keith snaps. He winces… like he immediately regrets it, but moves back towards the door all the same. Lance watches in confusion. He isn’t sure what’s happening, but he can’t let Keith just leave. He crawls across his bed and catches Keith’s wrist before he gets away. Keith turns to stare at the contact, before he lifts his gaze to meet Lance’s.
“Stay.” Lance beckons. Keith’s eyes widen. He worries his lip but lets his feet take him to the edge of the bed all the same. Lance’s hand slides up his forearm, until both of his hands are on Keith’s hips. His warm fingers touch pale, smooth skin.
“Why?” Keith shudders.
“I want you to.” Lance answers honestly. His grip on Keith’s hips tightens, and he starts to pull him into his lap. Keith moves like water, sinking and straddling Lance in one graceful movement. His breath hitches when Lance’s grip on him sinks lower. With his hand on his ass, he pulls Keith flush against him. Keith’s stares at his mouth.
He closes his eyes and waits. Waits for the pounding in his chest to slow down. Waits for the excitement in his groin to die. Waits to feel Lance’s grip tighten and lips to press against his.
Lance’s grip does tighten. Keith inhales.
But where he expects Lance to lean forward and kiss him, he instead finds himself being pulled sideways. His head hits a pillow with a soft thud. Lance’s arms snake around his ribs, and his long legs begin to drape across his hip, essentially trapping him. Keith snaps open his eyes. Lance’s face is close to his, smiling dopily with half-lidded eyes.
“We need to go to sleep.” Lance sighs. his breath fans over Keith’s face. Keith is stiff with shock and confusion. His gut twists with… disappointment?
“…what?” He whispers. Lance lets out a soft chuckle.
“Sleep with me. It’ll be nice. You’ll like it.” He closes his eyes and sinks into the pillow. His grip on Keith slackens, but his thumb rubs soothing circles against his bare side.
“You’re warm.” Lance adds. Keith’s nerves escape him with a soft laugh.
“You’re weird, Lance.”
“Just admit you can’t wait to fall asleep in my arms.” Lance smirks.
“More like your legs.” Keith pats Lance’s naked thigh that sits on his hip. It makes a satisfying “pap” sound. Lance giggles.
“I can move them if you want.”
Keith thinks about this for a moment, trailing his fingertips up and down Lance’s thigh.
“No, it’s fine.”
They slip into a comfortable silence. They gravitate closer until their foreheads touch and Keith feels himself completely surrounded by Lance. He lets out a breath that was sitting deep in his chest. His head feels clear again. Anxious energy melts off of his limbs, leaving his body aching and exhausted.
“It’s ok. I understood.”
Keith moves until his face is against Lance’s throat. Lance gives him a reassuring squeeze.