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justkending · 3 months ago

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Pink or Violet? (Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

(All gifs are from Pinterest)

(Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Well, wow-ee wow, wow... Y'all blew up the last little drabble connected to this one, so I had to grant myself some writing time today to come up with a follow-up drabble. This one is a lot more lighthearted and a good 5-8 months in the future (your choice, really). Thank you, guys, for all the love on the last one, and I hope this one is a nice extension of it ;)

________________

“Have you ever considered going brunette? Whoa!” I sense the knife before I see it and manage to expertly dodge it with a laugh. “Hey, my teammate said I’m not allowed to get stabbed anymore, big guy,” I shun, turning in my spot, kicking the man in the nuts, and as he folds over in pain, I hold his head perfectly to knee him in the face, hearing a satisfying crunch, causing him to land with a thump to my side. “Rude to interrupt conversations, too, dude.”

Currently, we were in the middle of a stakeout… Or what started as a stakeout and now is a full-on brawl.

Nat and I were rudely interrupted in our conversation about disguises we wanted to try, when an explosion in the facility we were monitoring took over the west wing.

“I’ve done a wig,” Nat answers as she jumps, doing one of her classic moves where she’s sat on the shoulders of her assaulter, choking him out with her thighs before flinging her body to where she’s standing again casually and the man is incapacitated passed out on the floor. “Not that I didn’t find it flattering, but it’s harder to dye back with such a dark color.” She shrugs as she moves on to her next victim.

I bend grabbing the knife from the man I just took down and flip it a few times in my hand. “Makes sense.” I nod with a convinced look. “On your right,” I hum, and she ducks while I throw the knife perfectly to where it lodges itself in the thigh of her attacker.

A blood-curdling scream sounds at his pain, and I pout at him in fake sympathy as Nat shoots her widow bite as he falls, making him shake in shock before passing out.

“What about you?” she asks with a breath, brushing her hair out of her face. “Ever considered a neon green?”

“What? No. Am I trying to get caught in this undercover scenario?” I reload my gun before holstering it, and we start jogging to our next spot.

“I just think it’d be fun to venture away from the neutral tones for once. Maybe there would be a mission where you did need to be found and-” Nat’s cut off by coms in our ears.

“Ladies, enough salon talk,” Tony’s voice comes through. “We have a situation in the northeast corridor with much more pressing matters happening!”

“We’re coming!” Nat groaned. “God. Micromanager is in full force today.”

“Besides, Y/N’s skin complexion wouldn’t work with a neon green. Maybe a pink, though…” Tony continues before his comms cut out, and he’s back to shooting things from the sky.

“Oh, pink would be really good with your skin tone,” Nat seconds as we turn a corner.

“No one is dying their hair pink! I could use some backup!” Bucky’s shouts come from the comms next.

“Where’s Steve?” Nat asks, pausing at a fork in the halls before signaling me to follow.

“Caught up at the moment,” Steve’s grunts came through my earpiece.

“Almost there, Barnes!” I note as we come to the hall where he’s supposedly located. “And I’ll have you know, if I want to dye my hair pink, I’ll damn well dye my hair pink!”

“Guns, Y/N,” Bucky groans. “I have guns going off around me and at me. I’m not worried about a fake scenario right now. I’m worried about a very real one that’s-” He’s cut off and grunts a few times. “Please just-”

The two men he was up against fall slack to the ground, and he’s left panting with relief as he turns back to me, standing at the end of the hall with my gun lowering down to my side.

“Please, what? I like it when you use your manners,” I smirk as I walk up proudly to him.

“You need to be humbled a touch,” he notes, shaking his head as he checks his weapons and reloads them while I walk to stand by him.

I roll my eyes before assessing our surroundings as he gears up. “You’re just jealous because the girls have more fun with undercover makeovers. You want a pink wig too?” I tease, poking his shoulder.

He playfully shoves my own and makes me teeter some as I laugh.

“I got the information!” Steve’s shout come back through. “We can wrap this up.”

“Thank God,” I groan, adjusting my holster on my hip. “I have dinner plans.”

“Sorry to interrupt your nightly, never-changing program,” Tony snarks.

“It’s ok. You can compensate by paying for my meal,” I retort back, pushing the button in my ear to keep it in place. “Speaking of compensation…”

“Y/N, I swear if you say you stole my credit card information again,” Tony groans.

“What, me? No… I would nev-”

“Shut it. I don’t even have the energy to fight you.”

I turn to Bucky and wink, and he’s biting back a laugh with a wide smile.

“You’re a mess, you know that?” he says lowly, the comms not picking up on us.

“You like it,” I shrug and start moving down the corridor, where Nat’s waving us on to follow.

“That I do,” he hums, following behind me and playfully kicking my ass with the tip of his boot. “Now, these dinner plans…”

“Interested?”

“More than you know…”

____________________

Back at the compound, freshly out of the shower, I hear a knock on my door. “Just got out of the shower, but the doors unlocked!” I shout.

“Dinner’s arrived!” Bucky shouts, shutting the door behind him carefully.

“Thank God. I’m starving,” I grumble, throwing my sweatshirt over my head after getting dressed. “I’ll send Tony a thank you card later for covering tonight's meal,” I hum, drying my hair with a towel as I come into the room.

The greased takeout bag smells fresh of hole-in-the-wall dinner food, making my mouth water. I grin as Bucky places it on the coffee table in front of my couch and starts arranging the containers for us to splurge.

“No, you won’t,” Bucky responds to my thank you card comment.

“No, I won’t,” I agree, jumping over the back of the couch and bouncing into the seat next to him. “Hmm, you smell nice.” I’ve come to learn, and so has Bucky, that his body wash might as well be my kryptonite.

“I can say the same for-,” he bumps me with his elbow before his eyes narrow on my exposed shoulder, and without a second thought, he grabs my arms and moves my body to face him. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” I ask, looking down at the spot he’s glaring at as best as I can.

“You got a cut,” he points out, hovering his fingers around the area and moving my sweatshirt out of the way.

Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have cut the neckline to half my sweatshirt after that stupid TikTok trend I saw the kids doing… Or at least worn one that wasn’t butchered tonight.

“Buck, it’s literally a scratch. And I’m genuinely not downplaying it at all,” I note, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hands away, but they have an iron grip on me.

Or should I say, vibranium grip on me?! Haha! Get it?.. No? Ok, moving on…

But seriously. The cut was just that. A cut. It wasn’t anything like the night we talked things out months and months ago. That one had become slightly scarred, whereas this one will be scabed over in the morning and likely be gone in 2-3 days. I might as well have gotten into it with a cat who was pissed when he figured out he’d been put on a diet.

“A cut’s a cut,” Bucky argues, looking up at me. “Did you clean it?”

“Yes, I cleaned it in the shower with the rest of my body. I disinfected it, and it has that balm on it. And before you ask,” I say just as he opens his mouth. “Yes, it’s that special salve you had Banner make for me. I’m set.”

Bucky had become a little more intense when it came to my injuries since about three missions ago, I had moved at the perfect time to redirect a knife headed right at him, but it sliced my wrist in the redirection, and much to my misfortune, it was laced with something.

To add to the list of medications he’s had Banner concoct specifically for my clumsy self (which were in the double digits at this point), I now have a poison control cream that counteracts most toxins and keeps me from saying hello to Heaven sooner than I hope.

“You don’t feel weird or anything?” His eyes are scanning mine and my face for any lies or other injuries I haven’t told him about, and I’ve come to learn if it makes him feel better to double-check up to 20x before being satisfied, I’ll allow it.

“I’m right as rain,” I nod, smiling at him softly, squeezing my grip on his wrist in reassurance. “The only thing I’m feeling is hungry and tired. So, what movie are we watching that I’ll inevitably fall asleep on you during?”

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, dropping his hands and going back to the food.

“I was thinking Tombstone,” he answers, grabbing one of the to-go containers with fries and a burger and handing it to me.

“Another Western? What’s got you on the cowboy kick?” I ask, taking it and popping it open, instantly attacked by the smell of freshly seasoned fries.

“You keep nicknaming me cowboy, so I figured I should have a little background knowledge of the profession,” he winks at me over his shoulders as he gets his own food together.

“Oh, yeah? You like the nickname?” I ask, nudging him with my knee.

“When it comes from you? Yeah. Sam? No. Without hesitation, I will start adding laxatives to his protein shakes if he keeps it up.”

I laugh at their friendship, and we start up the movie, diving into our much-deserved greasy meal.

_____________

The next day, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda are lounging on the living room couch, all doing their own thing. Wanda and Sam are watching Sex in the City. Steve was reading a book called The Secret War of Laos, and Bucky was on his computer, fully engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Nat clears her throat, and I stand next to her in a baseball cap with my hair completely hidden underneath. Everyone looks up, and instantly, Bucky’s eyes fall on me. He smiles for a split second before it drops, and he furrows his eyebrows at my appearance.

“We have an announcement,” Nat smiles mischievously.

“Oh God…” Bucky rubs his temples and looks down in his lap in seconds.

“You don’t even know what we’re going to say,” I argue, not able to hold back my laugh.

“I can use context clues,” he grumbles before looking up, his eyes squinted as if he had a bad headache forming, and it was already making his eyesight worse.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nat waves him off as Sam and Wanda chuckle, and Steve looks oblivious to what is happening. “Anyway. Y/N and I made a bet and, well… Y/N lost.”

“Surprisingly, not mad about it,” I shrug, arms crossed over my chest.

“Of course, you’re not…” Bucky mumbles, shutting his computer and putting it to the side.

“What did I miss exactly? Because everyone seems to know what’s happening…” Steve asks, confused, taking in everyone’s reactions.

“Come on. Let’s see it.” The brunette interlaces his hands and rests them in his lap as he watches me.

I smile at Nat, who’s also grinning wide, and move to take the ballcap off.

“Awesome,” Sam is the first to say something, and Wanda claps and gushes.

“Oh wow, that’s so cute!” She smiles widely.

“Whoa. That’s…” Steve turns his head to the side.

“Pink,” Bucky finishes for him. His eyebrows raise in what looks like surprise as he takes in my new hair.

“Do you like it?” Nat asks the group, and there’s a mix of reactions as they talk over each other.

I laugh with them for a little before walking over to Bucky’s side of the couch. Plopping down next to him, the crew talks about their own personal transformations they’d like to do and quickly forget about us in the corner.

“Thoughts?” I ask, smirking up at Bucky as I sit almost wholly tucked into his side. His arm comes around my shoulders, resting there as he looks at me from the side.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he chuckles once, taking it in up close now.

“Eh, I thought a change-up would be fun. Change. Is. Good,” I shrug, poking his chest with each word.

He moves to touch my hair, and as soon as his fingers touch it, his face contorts into an investigative look.

“What?” I ask, biting my lip as he’s already catching on to my ploy.

“This isn’t,” he rubs a strand of hair between his fingers, studying the texture. The crease in between his eyebrows drops instantly, and he deadpans to me. “It’s a wi-”

“Shhh!” I hush him, almost jumping in his lap as I cover my hand over his lips. He freezes, eyes wide, and his hand instinctively goes to my waist to balance me. “Let me live this fantasy a little longer,” I smile, holding back a giggle.

“This is a fantasy of yours?” He asked behind my hands, words muffled and raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe fantasy isn’t the right word-”

“Because it’s starting to turn into one for me,” he cuts in, and I can feel his smirk in the palm of my hand.

I slowly drop it, astonished at his confession. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that right?” I ask, peering at our friends who are now arguing with Sam about growing a mohawk, which he is all for, apparently.

Instead of answering, he licks his lips as he brings his hands to the wig and plays with strands of it.

“Maybe not the pink, but… How’d you feel about a violet?” he asked, eyes slowly rising to mine.

“Oh. My. God…” I say lowly, sinking back in my seat, pressed to his side. “Did we just discover a new kink of yours?”

“I fear we may have…” His voice was low and made a shiver go down my back.

“I hold no fear at all,” I smirked back at him, looking him up and down. “All I feel about that statement is excitement…”

“Where exactly did you get this? Because it looks pretty realistic…” His fingers still play with the wig, which, thanks to Nat, is a higher-end one. How he caught on to it being a wig is impressive.

“Doesn’t matter,” I shrug. “What matters is I happen to know they carry all the colors…” I smirk.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting, indeed.”

He starts to stand up, and I’m confused by the action until he turns and offers me a hand. Once I’m standing, he leans closer and down to whisper in my ear, my hand still in his.

“We can keep this one for now. I have a few ideas still.”

I look up at him, pleasant surprise on my face. “You know how I said change is good?” He nods with a smirk, his hand squeezing mine in response. “This,” I motion between us. “This is a change I’m glad happened.”

“Same here,” he winked, pulling my arm so I was flush against him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, escorting me out of the room.

“Where are they going?” Nat asks, confused at our sudden leave.

Everyone turns to see the tail end of us leaving, and Wanda laughs after a second and quickly covers her mouth. “God, pray for her,” she says under her breath, and Nat gives her a look. She tries to play it off by coughing and shaking her head. “Sorry, something in my throat.”

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #justkending #pink or violet?#marvel drabble #bucky barnes drabble #mcu fanfic #mcu #the avengers

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cryptid-paint · 5 months ago

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RELEASE THE DIVA!!!! *I scream into a megaphone as Butchverine walks into the stage*

A couple of notes on my take on sapphic Poolverine:

-wolverine's full name is Jane Lenore Howlett, she mainly goes by Jane, she still goes as wolverine as her hero persona

-Lady Deadpool startet to call her Lottie (because of her middle name, Lenore) because it rhymes with Hottie "hottie Lottie"

-doesn't really cares about makeup, sometimes she can indulge a bit in wearing black lipstick but she's always seen with eyeliner....it's for intimidating purposes she says .....sure thing, we say (she's lying, she enjoys doing her eyeliner)

-Jane gives zero fucks about shaving, but we stand a soft fuzzy gal, so kuddos to her, Lady Deadpool says she is "as soft as a kitten"

-fashion wise Jane is all about the ripped jeans, combat boots, tank tops, sleeveless crop tops, flannels and ofc a good leather jacket

-Lady Deadpool's name is Winnona Wilson (I know her canon name is Wanda in the comics but marvel come on, there's already another Wanda and plenty of female W names, get creative!...plus Winnona is cuter)

-wolverine calls her whinennona, whiny or straight up Wilson depending on her mood

-Winnona LOVES accessories And is oftenly wearing wigs, cute hats, beanies and bandanas in her head when she's not wearing her mask, she loves makeup too! She enjoys false eyelashes, lipstick and sometimes eyeshadow, she draws in her eyebrows but she doesn't wears foundation tho, it irritates her skin a lot

-she probably has the biggest cute and funny earrings collection ever. Fashion wise I can see her rocking low waist jeans, rhinestone belts, crop tops and those juicy couture velvet tracksuits lol

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

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Part One TwentyOne

The wig isn’t right, not really. More than a few seconds of close inspection gives it away, but in a small photograph, Steve figures they will get away with it. Joyce had wet it and then twisted it up into carefully pinned swirls that, in theory, means when they unravel it later it’ll be at least a little curly.

Eddie wears his hat to the hospital appointment, the wig resting on the back seat, “hops-itle,” he says, frowning.

“Hos,” Steve says slowly, “pital,” while driving them to his appointment. He’d given Eddie the option of waiting at home, knowing full well that Eddie wasn’t going to go for it. He didn’t, very insistent that they go together. At least today he let Steve choose his clothes; a belt was needed to hold the jeans up, but Eddie was happy enough in a polo and sweatshirt. He’s wearing Steve’s old parka in deference to the cold weather.

“Hostiple?”

Steve turns into the car lot, putting the car in park he points at the sign, “hos-pit-al.”

“Hos-pit-al.”

“That’s it baby.”

“Stee love, it won’t hurt?” He asks carefully.

“No,” they make it up to the front door, “but you can’t call me love here, okay?”

Eddie frowns spectacularly, “why?”

“I’ll explain later,” Steve says, he probably should have explained the they can’t be a public thing but it had genuinely only just occurred to him; Eddie was a fish before he was a man, after all, and that wasn’t much of a concern.

Steve talks to the lady at the front desk, going where he’s told to wait, taking a clipboard of paperwork to fill in, Eddie trailing along behind him.

Eddie nudges Steve when they sit, wrinkling his nose, “hos-pit-al nose hear bad.”

Steve snorts a laugh, “yeah, that’s hospitals for you. And it’s smell, noses smell, ears hear.”

Steve’s foot feels kind of itchy where the stitches were, but otherwise he feels pretty good. He has two small raised pink scars, and some funny tiny little holes from the stitches, but otherwise he’s good to go. He has continued instructions to keep it clean and watch for signs of infection. When he comes out from the appointment, Eddie is flicking through a magazine, so it gave Steve a moment to just look at him. Just a normal dude, sitting in a waiting room. It puts Steve’s heart in his throat a little, and he wonders vaguely if he will ever get used to it. Just Eddie, being a normal dude out in the world.

And then Eddie looks up, and he sees Steve, and he grins so big. So genuinely happy to see him, “good? Stitches out?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Lets go and get groceries.”

Steve parks in a corner away from the store, Eddie taking off his hat and letting Steve fix the wig as best he can. He thinks he lines it up pretty good, and then he undoes all the ties Joyce put in, fluffing the false curls up.

“Photo of Eddidie?”

“That’s right.”

“Same photo of kids?”

“Yeah, you got it.”

It’s nothing like Eddie’s real hair, but it’ll do for this.

Eddie sits in the booth, Steve lining him up and making sure his wig looks okay before he closes the curtain. They wait together after, the photos dropping out of the slot, Eddie looks at them, taking them and carefully putting them in his pocket for safekeeping.

Eddie’s head is on swivel in the store. Steve guesses everything is brightly colored, and there’s just so much of it if you’re not used to it. Steve chose this store because there’s a photo booth near the registers, but that means it’s also the biggest one nearby.

Steve wanders the aisles, getting all their usual things. Eddie still wants some pears, so he chooses a few loose ones for himself. He also chooses a can of soup for himself, clearly thrilled by all the variety, “Eddidie try?”

Eddie’s also keen to help unloading the groceries, and then carefully loads up the bags with Steve. He’s quiet in the store, Steve doesn’t know if he’s shy with all the strangers, or just a little overwhelmed.

“Stee, many dollars,” Eddie eyes their haul speculatively as Steve pays, “many work?”

Steve bags up their things, waiting until they’re leaving the store to tell Eddie, “I get three dollars an hour at work,” it’s a little more than that, but they haven’t covered cents yet, “less tax.”

Eddie trails after him, “Stee work four hours, grocery money today?”

Steve turns to look at Eddie, shocked that he’s worked that out, “yeah, yeah that’s exactly right! Well done!” Eddie beams.

“Called tax?”

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs, instantly regretting mentioning that, they get into the car while Steve thinks about how the hell to answer that one, watching as Eddie carefully clips on his belt. “Okay, so I get paid a wage and then-” Steve starts to say government but stalls out, no way is he opening that can of worms, “Hawkins. Hawkins the town,” Steve gestures widely, “takes a little bit of money to pay Hopper. Hopper keeps us all safe, so we all pay a little bit each. And it pays for...the trash guys. To come and take away the trash. It pays for...the roads, so we can drive cars. It pays for that stuff, yeah?” Steve has absolutely no clue how accurate he’s being, but it seems the simplest way to explain things.

Eddie nods, “yeah.”

There’s a gang of reprobates waiting at Steve’s door when he pulls into the drive, “kids,” Eddie informs him stoically.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “the peace and quiet couldn’t last forever,” the blow is softened slightly by the fact that Robin’s with them.

“Called forever?”

“All tomorrows,” Steve answers absently, putting the car in park.

Dustin’s got a massive book tucked under his arm, so Steve already knows whatevers about to happen isn’t going to be enjoyable. Steve grabs two bags of groceries off the back seat, Eddie grabs the other and his discarded wig.

“Here,” Steve cocks a hip out to Robin, “house keys in the pocket,” Robin grabs them, getting the door open for everyone to go in.

They all pile into the kitchen, the kids throwing themselves down on chairs at the kitchen table while Robin gets a coffee going and Steve and Eddie work together to pack away the groceries.

“We didn’t want to leave you to pick a name-”

Steve opens his mouth to protest, but doesn’t get far before Robin cuts him off, “you can’t have Harrington. It’s too suspicious. What are you going to say, that he’s a secret love child? A long lost cousin? Believe it or not but some sort of exchange student is way more believable.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs. He guesses it does make sense, “Eddie likes his sweet and milky.”

“On it.”

“So do you have any ideas?” Dustin asks, opening his book.

“Something not shit,” Mike adds.

“Really fucking helpful there Mike, thank you,” Steve snips, “I was trying to stay, you know, on theme. He’s named after Eddie Fisher, you know, the singer.”

Robin hums, “you want to stay on the mermaid bandwagon?”

“Well I’m certainly not letting you call him Eddie Smith or Jones or some shit like that, right baby?”

Eddie perches at the breakfast bar, a safe distance from the kids, “Eddidie called Eddidie.”

“Yeah, but you need another name. I’m Steve Harrington, Birdie is Robin Buckley, understand?”

Eddie nods.

“So what, you want to name him like, Eddie Waves, or Eddie Beach, or Eddie...Fishscales, or something?” Max asks, “because just so you know, they’re all shit.”

“Yeap, yeah thanks for that Max. But yeah...something...something good, you know? Something to do with water...like...tides or...rain or storms or something, something cool?”

“Eddie Hurricane,” Lucas snickers.

“I mean...no, but it is kind of cool,” Steve replies, “What do you think, Eddie Hurricane?”

Eddie frowns a little, shaking his head, “Eddidie Madison?”

Steve can’t help his smile, “yeah?”

“Madison?” Robin asks.

“It’s the name of the mermaid from ‘Splash,’” Steve explains.

Robin snorts a laugh, “what about Monsoon?”

“Not really a name though, right?”

“You could drop an ‘o’,” Dustin suggests, finally pulling his nose out of the book long enough to pipe up, “lots of names end in ‘son’.”

“Monson? Really?” Steve pulls a face.

“Hang on, I’ll look it up,” Dustin flicks through his book, and Steve suddenly understands what it is and why he has it. Of course there’s a book of names, and of course Dustin has it. He probably got it from the library, itching to do this. The giant nerd. “The surname Monson is derived from the Scandinavian personal name Magnus-” he reads

Robin cuts him off, “amazing, fits with the exchange student story.”

Dustin scowls at her before carrying on, “this name was bourne by several kings of Norway, the first of whom was Magnus the good...He was named after Charlemagne, whose name was rendered Carolus Magnus in Latin. Okay, that’s kind of cool. He’d kind of be named after Charlemagne.”

“That is kind of cool Steve.”

Steve doesn’t want to ask who the fuck Charlemagne is, simply because he knows they’ll explain it to him and he really doesn’t care, “Monson? You really think Eddie Monson?”

“Eddidie Monson,” Eddie says, nodding, “hear small tell different Madison.”

“Eddie! That was so good!”

“You like that baby?” He’s interrupted by Mike making gagging noises, which Steve chooses to ignore, “it does sound kind of like Madison.” Eddie nods in answer, sipping his coffee.

“Steve, I can’t believe how quick he’s picking this up that was like...a full sentence.”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles at Eddie, and Eddie smiles back, “he’s really, really smart.”

“Really smart,” Eddie parrots back.

Later, when they’re saying good bye at the door, Nancy waiting to pick them all up, Robin is the last to leave, “I can’t sell him on the family emergency much longer Steve. As it is he thinks you are pulling a fast one and you just wanted to take the week off over Christmas.”

Steve sighs, “yeah, yeah that’s fair, I-I’ll call in tomorrow, come back to work.”

“I promise I’ll get us on the same shifts, at least some times. I’ll tell him you’re fragile and I’m your emotional support.”

Steve sorts, “sure. That’ll absolutely work.”

Steve sighs in the silence left behind when he closes the door. Maybe having all those days alone by the pool have eroded his ability to put up with people. Or maybe it’s just the kids. Or maybe he just want to be alone with Eddie, who knows.

Almost like they sensed his peace and quiet, the phone starts to ring.

Steve huffs, then turns in time to see Eddie creeping closer to the phone, he picks it up cautiously as Steve watches, saying, “hello,” into the receiver. Eddie smiles after a moment, “hello Joyce.”

Oh good, Steve thinks, letting it go, they can talk, that’s fine, he doesn’t need to intervene. He watches Eddie frowning, and then he says, “yes. Will go out in car. Nancy drive. Little before.” He listens for a little while longer then visibly perks up, the bobble on his hat rocking, and says, “dinner food? Eddidie and Stee?”

Steve slides closer, leaning against the wall, as Eddie says, “wait there,” to Joyce and turns to Steve, “Joyce in-vite,” he says carefully, “Stee and Eddidie to dinner. Food. New. Years. Day. First January. Five and half,” Eddie relays everything carefully.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, “yeah we can go.”

Eddie grins, “Joyce, Stee tell yeah, we can go. Thank you Joyce.” He’s frowning again then, “pie?” obviously parsing what Joyce is saying to him, and then he finally says, “pear. Banana.”

Eddie had recently tried a banana and quite enjoyed it, Steve smiles at the thought of Joyce letting Eddie choose the desserts. They say goodbye and then Eddie informs Steve, “food same Christmas food. After, dessert, banana cream pie and pear pecan tart,” Eddie tells Steve, slow but sure as he sounds out the new words.

“That sounds great, make sure you put it on your calendar,” Steve had taken down a picture in the hall, using the hook to hang Eddie’s calendar from a bit of string, and Steve stands and spells out the words while Eddie carefully writes in their dinner invitation.

Party TwentyThree

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie #creature eddie munson #creature

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swanlakex · 2 months ago

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As a irl hairstylist, I can’t get the idea of doing Hayden Christensen’s hair/makeup on set. So here you go. 😁😁😁

Being Hayden Christensen’s film stylist was a job you never thought you’d land.

The industry is so unforgiving to less-experienced, younger hairstylists. Most companies hire a crew of 3-4 ladies, and never look for more until the eldest retires. (Like the Supreme Court) It’s a long cycle, and you were ready to spend years climbing the ladder to do what you loved.

Then your first gig was practically your dream job.

Working as a stylist on George Lucas’ set of Revenge of The Sith, you had your hands full. There were dozens of wigs, hours of SFX makeup, and plenty of styles to do. But you were ecstatic. And better yet, the actors adored you. You were a breath of fresh air from the typical grouchy, 50 year old stylists that complained about their swollen feet and the “new generation”. Not you- you were funny, patient, and talkative. Making friends was definitely the best part of your job.

Natalie was so sweet, and she always talked to you about the latest book she had been nose-deep in. They were interesting, even despite being non-fiction. Plus, she had no problem being your Guinea pig for new styles and ideas you conjured up. She would sit in your chair forever, if she had the time of course. She’s a busy girl!

Ewan opened up to you when you started playing your own music in the wardrobe. Of course, you played oldies for him specifically, but he was surprised that “kids still have taste these days”. Ewan was hilarious too, and a great listener. He would ask about your day, and actually care about the answer. He’d ask questions and tease you for hitting a curb on your way to the set that day. When you finally got him out of the chair, he’d fist bump you before whipping around and marching out the room.

Hayden, however, was a bit of a different story. He wasn’t very talkative, in fact, he seemed a little shy; a strict contrast to his character. Of course, he was very polite, but he kept to himself really. You didn’t mind this, it was always comfortable silence. Plus, his peace really came in handy on those chaotic days. You didn’t really think twice about it until you called Hayden in for wardrobe, and Ewan turned to him, smiled, and poked him. “Oh, come on..” You heard Hayden say back to Ewan with a grin on his face as he headed towards you. What was that about? Weird.

You started with makeup first. It was the scene where Anakin had turned to the dark side, and his face was full-on Sith Lord. It was going to take a bit longer than it usually would. He sits in the chair, and you clip his hair back. “You excited to turn me evil today?” He says with a smile.

You turn around, mixing the foundation onto your hand. “It’s the very reason I woke up today.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, repositioning in his seat to a more relaxed demeanor.

As you pat the base layer on his face, you ask “Have you seen the contacts you’re wearing yet?”

“No I have not..” He says, opening his eyes.

You turn to the table and pick them up, opening the lid and showing him.

“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m gonna look like a lizard.”

You chuckle. “I hope you have experience with contacts, because I do not. So if you need help, we’re a little screwed.”

He waves your concern away. “Nah, it’s all good. I can put ‘em in.”

You continue his base, and as you finish, he speaks again. “Y’know, I never asked.. How long have you been doing this?”

Your eyebrows furrow at the unexpected question. But hey, you’re not complaining. Having a gorgeous man in your chair asking you questions is never a problem to you. “Well, I’ve been doing hair since.. I was a junior in high school.”

His face makes a puzzled look.

“Grade 11.” You explain, knowing he’s Canadian, so he’s probably not familiar with American grades.

“Ahh..” he says. “That’s a long time.”

“Not as long as everybody else around here..”

“But you’re still better than ‘em.” He whispers, not wanting to offend the other artists.

Your eyes widen in shock. You smile. “Why thank you, Mr. Christensen..” you say in a funny, teasing voice.

“Please,” he scoffs. “I’m not forty.”

“I’m aware.” You joke as you bend closer to him with eyeliner in your hand. “Alright, for this you have to stay very still. No sudden movements, ‘Kay?”

He just nods and stares straight ahead. “I won’t even breathe.”

You giggle and shake your head. “Might need you to breathe, Hayden.”

He whispers a small “Okay.” And stays still as you draw small cracks around his eyes. A quarter of the way through, you notice he’s been staring at you this whole time. You keep going, but he never looks away.

“Y’know..” you say softly with a smile on your face “most people close their eyes for this part..”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He closes his eyes.

A minute later, he opens one again.

You stand up from the two of you laughing, grabbing a Q-tip to clean up the edges. “You’re funny today.” You state.

“Am I not funny every day?” He interrogates.

You shrug. “Sorry. Extra funnier today.”

He gives a “Hmph.” And nods.

You finish his makeup, smiling like an idiot the whole time. Now you just have to install the extensions, have him put in the contacts, then he’s done.

“Wig time.” You sing, plucking the hair extensions from the mannequin labeled SKYWALKER.

“Do you want me to close my eyes for this one too?”

You chuckle, and shake your head no.

“Good, cause I like lookin’ at you.”

WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKKKK?? Your stomach was suddenly swarmed with butterflies. No way he’s hitting on you. No way. Either way, you could not fumble this. Act cool.

Hayden’s face was flushed, he was obviously freaking out that he said that too.

“Yeah? Well I’m quite flattered,” you respond. “..Mr. Christensen.” You tease, breaking the awkward air. He chuckles and shakes his head. You clip in his extensions, teasing and roughing them up. “In fact, there’s a get-together Natalie and I are going to later tonight. Plenty of music and people. I’d love if you came.” He looks up to you.

“Just you and Natalie? No Ewan?” You ask.

“Nah, he’s too old.” He jokes. Suddenly, you hear a shout from outside the door.

“I heard that, you little twat!” Ewan cries from the muffled door. Hayden whips around. “What- How long have you been listening??”

You hear a faint trail of giggles travel down the hall. You laugh so hard you have to put your curling iron down. Hayden sighs. Once you recover, you answer.

“I’d love to go. Can you send me the address?”

“Really? Yeah, of course.” You hand him your phone and he types in his number as you finish his hair up. He hands it back to you.

“Thanks. Alright, you can put your contacts in now. The bathroom is right there if you need a sink.” You instruct him as you hand over the contacts. He smiles, nods, and walks into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he comes out.

“Woah!” You call out. “You look..terrifying..”

He smiles darkly, and it’s kinda hot.

“Ah, don’t tell me I’ve changed your mind then.”

You shake your head. “Not in the slightest.”

He grins, hands you back the case, and thanks you as he struts out the door. “Hope to see you there!” He calls out.

“See ya!” As soon as he leaves you watch him walk onto set from a crack in the door. He strides over to Ewan and bends over to whisper something. Ewan’s face lights up and he throws a hand up for a high-five.

20 minutes later, you get a buzz from your phone.

846 York Ave.

Can’t wait. ;)

-Your favorite Sith Lord

#hayden christensen #fempov #anakin skywalker #revenge of the sith #star wars

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corruptedcaps · 6 months ago

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Maid for it

“Another day, another mess.” Issy muttered, pushing the door open and stepping into the dim, stale air of the nightclub. Sammy followed close behind, tying her graying hair into a loose bun.

“I don’t know how they do it.” Sammy said, squinting at the leftover chaos. Empty glasses, glittering confetti, and half-crushed cans scattered across the sleek floors. “Every weekend, they come in here acting like they own the place. No respect for anything but themselves.”

Issy snorted, picking up a crumpled cocktail napkin. “The youth of today. They think the world revolves around them. Everything’s a selfie, a status update.”

“Right? Did you see that girl last week when we were on the night shift, the one in the sparkly dress? Spent more time filming herself than dancing.” Sammy shook her head, grabbing the mop.

“Remember when we used to go out? Actually had fun without needing an audience.” Issy said grabbing a trash bag.

Sammy smiled. “Good times, Issy. Good times.”

Issy looked around the club, hands on her hips. “So, where should we start?”

Sammy, already eyeing the far end of the room, groaned. “We should flip for the bathrooms. You know they’re always the worst. I swear, they must turn into animals in there after midnight.”

Issy pulled a coin from her pocket, holding it up with a smirk. “Heads, you do the bathrooms. Tails, I’ll take the hit.”

Issy flicked the coin into the air. It spun, catching the dim light, before landing in her palm. She peeked and grimaced. “Tails. Dammit.”

Sammy chuckled. “Good luck in there. I’ll take the bar.”

With a sigh, Issy grabbed her cleaning supplies and headed toward the bathrooms. The door to the ladies’ restroom creaked open, revealing the usual chaos. Loose makeup smeared across the countertops, lipsticks rolling about, and a few forgotten articles of clothing thrown haphazardly on the floor.

“Same old, same old.” She muttered, shaking her head. As she wiped down the counter, something caught her eye. There, lying next to an abandoned sequined purse, was a black wig.

Issy barely had time to blink before the black wig sprang to life, leaping from her hands and onto her face. “What the hell—!” She gasped, stumbling backward as it crawled across her skin like a living thing.

The wig slithered up her cheeks and over her eyes, settling firmly on top of her head. She reached up to tear it off, but just as her fingers touched the strands, a sharp, sudden pain pierced her scalp, like dozens of tiny needles burrowing in.

“Ow!” Issy yelped, frantically tugging at the wig, but it was on tight, as if fused to her head. Her hands shook, and as the seconds passed, a strange warmth spread through her body. Subtle at first but soon, it grew into an intense heat, like something was shifting beneath her skin.

She stumbled toward the mirror and froze. Her wrinkled skin, the creases she had grown accustomed to over the years, began to smooth out. The sagging around her chin and eyes lifted, disappearing before her eyes. Her body shrank, her waist narrowing, her arms slimming.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What... what’s happening to me?” She whispered, her voice sounding younger, sharper.

Issy stood frozen in front of the mirror as the transformation continued. Her chest began to swell, her old bra straining as her tits grew larger, fuller, and perkier. The sight made her gasp, her hands instinctively moving to her chest, feeling the unfamiliar weight.

“Oh my god.” She groaned as her hands grasped her new sensitive boobs.

Her lips plumped next, slowly puffing out until they were full and glossy, as if she'd just had an expensive treatment. Her fingers twitched as her nails elongated into perfectly manicured, polished claws, no longer the brittle, chipped things she had grown used to. Every detail, every change, unfolded right before her eyes in the bathroom mirror.

At first, her mind raced in panic. “This isn’t right! What’s happening to me?” She could barely recognize herself. Her body was no longer that of a middle-aged woman, but something else entirely. A younger version of herself, but not even that. This version of her was more idealized, almost like one of the women she’d see strutting around the nightclub, basking in attention.

“This... feels kind of... good.” She murmured, a smile creeping across her face.

Issy’s smile widened into a full, self-satisfied smirk as she admired her reflection. She couldn’t stop staring and why would she? She was perfect. Her body was flawless, every curve exactly where it should be, her skin glowing like it had been airbrushed. Her lips curled as she traced a finger along her jawline.

“God, I’m gorgeous.” She purred, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. She tilted her head, catching the light just right, and let out a soft laugh. “No wonder those girls spend all night taking photos. If I looked like this every day, I’d never stop looking at myself.”

Her eyes gleamed as she adjusted her stance, taking on a more bratty posture. “How could anyone not be obsessed with me?” She purred, running her hands over her hips, admiring the perfect hourglass figure staring back at her. She turned, posing, admiring herself from every angle.

Now, she felt invincible, untouchable. No one could match her. Not even the sluts she cleaned up after. “I’m better than them. Better than everyone.”

Issy’s breath caught in her throat as the words echoed in her mind. “Better than everyone.” She repeated slower, taking in the gravity of the statement, the condescension of the words. She blinked, suddenly horrified by the vanity consuming her.

“What am I saying?” She whispered, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like those girls, shallow and self-absorbed. She was… a good person, wasn’t she?

“No!” She muttered, forcing herself to look away from the mirror. Her hands shot up to her head, fingers gripping the wig. She tugged, trying to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, a tingling sensation crept across her skin as the hair started to defend itself by hitting her with more changes.

Her maid’s uniform tightened around her body, the fabric hugging every new curve as it shrank higher and higher, separating at the middle. The bottom part morphed into a slick, black leather skirt, clinging to her like a second skin.

The top part relaxed and in fact became bigger, becoming a luxurious and decadent, fur coat draping over her shoulders. Her sensible work bra followed in her new skirts footsteps by turning into a tight leather tube top.

Issy’s hands dropped from her head and ran over the leather, feeling the smooth texture, her fingers grazing the fur. “It’s perfect.” She said, her bratty tone returning and a smirk creeping back onto her face despite herself. She twirled, watching the coat flare out.

She looked better than any girl she had seen walk in or out of that club and the feeling was intoxicating. She knew could any wan eating out of the palm of her hand with just a look. As a maid she was invisible, but looking the way she did now who could ignore her?

And yet there was still a voice in the back of her head urging her, begging her to rip the hair off. The hair was giving her a body to die for but it was also making her more conceited and vain.

“No! This isn’t right! Ohhhh fuck but it feels sooo good! No I have to end it before it’s too late.@ she groaned.

Using what resistance she still had in her, she reached up and grabbed the hair in her hands. Her pretty nailed fingers wrapping around as many strands as possible. With one big tug she hoped it could at least come a little loose but the hair had one last card to play.

All at once Issy felt a surge of heat flow to her pussy and she felt it tighten to an extreme she didn’t know was possible. The very act was making her cum like never before, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Ohhhhh goddddd yessss!” She moaned loudly. Images of hot guys railing her in the very bathroom she was in filled her mind and made her cum again. She pictures herself strutting through the club like it was a buffet, choosing any man she wanted. She would be the best sec they ever had and she would make sure they spoilt her as rotten as her soul.

“Why fight it?” The thought slithered into her mind like an invader she couldn’t argue with. “I deserve this.”

Issy’s eyes rolled back to normal but there was a change instantly in them. They were no longer soft and caring eyes, instead they sparkled with spoilt narcissism. She stared at her reflection, the smirk growing wider, her eyes gleaming with pride. “Of course I fucking deserve this.” She said, the words slipping out effortlessly. She felt a surge of power, a thrill that coursed through her veins.

“I’m never going back to being some fucking loser maid again.” She declared, her voice full of conviction. The memory of her old self, ordinary and invisible, was pathetic. She sneered at the thought.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Sammy’s voice echoed off the tiles. “Issy, are you ok in here? I heard a moan of pain.” She called, her tone impatient. But as she stepped inside, she froze, her eyes going wide. “What the hell…?”

Standing in front of the mirror was a woman Sammy barely recognized. Issy, or at least what was left of her, turned slowly with a bored expression. “Relax loser, haven't you ever seen perfection before. Of course you haven’t just look at you.” She drawled, rolling her eyes.

Sammy’s jaw dropped as Issy picked up a glittering sequin bag from the counter. Unzipping it, she pulled out a thick wad of cash, a grin spreading across her face. “Look at this, my day just keeps getting better.” Issy purred.

Sammy stepped forward, her voice shaking. “Issy I don't know what happened to you, but you can't keep that cash and we need to get you help to reverse whatever the hell happened to you!”

Issy scoffed, flipping through the cash. She playfully put it up to her face like it was a telephone. “Hello police? Yes my friend put on a sexy black wig and turned in to the hottest bitch I've ever seen. Get real loser, even if there was a way to reverse this why the fuck would I want to go back to that pathetic loser I was?”

Sammy grabbed her by the arm. “Because this isn't you, Issy.”

Issy yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing. “You're right, I'm not Issy anymore. That weak, invisible woman is dead. I’m Bella now. And Bella gets everything she wants.”

Sammy’s heart raced as she backed away, her eyes darting between Bella and the door. “I’m going to find help. We’ll figure out how to take that wig off, Issy, I swear.” she said, her voice firm but shaking.

Just as Sammy reached for the door, Bella moved with lightning speed, slamming it shut with a loud bang. Sammy froze, staring at her in disbelief. “What are you doing?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Bella leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a dark, twisted delight. “I can’t have anyone knowing about my wonderfully evil hair now can I? So, you’re just going to have to join me… Samantha.” She said slowly, her voice dripping with malice.

Sammy flinched at the sound of her full name, her body tensing as Bella ran her hands through her long luxurious hair, pulling thick chunks from her head that seemed to instantly regenerate. Without effort she twisted the clumps it into a sleek ponytail. Before Sammy could react, Bella flung it at her.

“No!” Sammy shrieked, trying to duck away, but the hair came to life midair, writhing and twisting like a serpent. It latched onto her arm, tightening with terrifying strength. Sammy gasped, frantically tugging at it, but the hair slithered up her arm, relentless, heading straight for her head.

“Get it off me!” She cried, her voice desperate. But Bella only smiled, cold and sinister.

“Don’t fight it, Samantha. You’ll love being a hawt bitch.” Bella purred.

Bella stood back, her arms crossed, watching with gleeful anticipation as the living hair slithered up Sammy’s arm and latched onto her head. Sammy let out a muffled scream, clawing at the strands as they dug into her scalp, but it was no use. The transformation had already begun.

Bella’s grin widened as she saw Sammy’s body start to change. Her chest swelled, her boobs growing fuller and rounder, the fabric of her cleaning uniform tightening around her frame. Sammy’s lips plumped next, growing into a pouty, perfect shape as if they had been touched by a masterful surgeon, designed to be prefect for dick sucking. Her wrinkles faded before Bella's eyes, years melting off her face as her skin smoothed into a flawless, youthful complexion.

Sammy’s body slimmed and reshaped, her figure becoming athletic and toned, curves in all the right places. Her old exhausted, middle-aged self was disappearing by the second. Bella felt a surge of satisfaction and pride watching the transformation unfold, seeing Sammy’s resistance fade.

Sammy’s eyes, once wide with panic, began to dull, her expression shifting from fear to something colder, more detached. Her lips, once trembling, now settled into a perfect, pouty smirk.

Sammy’s maid outfit began to shift, the fabric tightening and shrinking against her changing body. Her uniform morphed, the dull cloth replaced by sleek black leather that hugged her hips, forming a short, revealing skirt. Her top dissolved into a thin black string bra that left little to the imagination, her big tits barely being held by it.

A shiny black puffer coat materialized around her shoulders, draping loosely and adding a seductive edge to the ensemble.

Bella grinned in approval. “Now that’s more like it. Doesn’t that feel better, Samantha?”

Samantha turned to the mirror, her new reflection staring back with cold confidence. She ran her hands over her curves, admiring how her new clothes showed off her perfectly tight new body.

She turned to Bella, her eyes gleaming with approval. She took the cash from her friend’s hand and held it up to her face, mirroring the fake phone call Bella had done earlier. "Hello police? I want to report a crime. The crime of looking oh being a bad bitch." She said sticking her tongue out playfully.

“Thanks babe. You were right, I do love being a hawt bitch. I was meant to be this beautiful.” Samantha said, handing the cash back to Bella she turned back to her reflection. Bella sadled up next to her and the two beauties primped and admired themselves. Samantha grinned pushing her tits out at her reflection.

“We’re going to have so much fun. Imagine the broken hearts we’ll leave behind, the envious bitches watching us, desperate to keep up. We’ll show all those poser girls what it really means to be spoiled brats.” Bella said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Samantha chuckled, tossing her hair back. “They’ll hate us, but they’ll wish they were us.”

Bella nodded. "Of course but they never will be because we were maid for this."

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #cc2024 #corrupted hair #maidforit

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rebo-chan · 5 months ago

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Okay so I make a lot of canon-adjacent posts. *gestures at my food post* very canon very important very informative. But my heart is full of whimsy and magic and sugar and spice and everything nice.

Today I wanted to talk about some of my hcs that I have regarding Tsuna and Reborn. Shit I just completely made up ^v^ I'll do five each to not make this a long post again rkehns.

Tsuna:

Grows up to really like coffee like his mentor, but could never really stand straight espresso. From my food post research, I saw that he is a snack food fiend. So, I think he's the type to enjoy lattes, frappuccinos, and mocha. What I'm saying is that he walks into Vongola meetings with a iced coffee and he stress-drinks it for the sugar rush.

Good with kids! I don't think he wants kids of his own, because he has enough of those, but he's the perfect balance of playful and strict. I do think though, if he did become a parent by some accident, he'd be the stricter one of the two. Mom is gonna be the fun one and Dad is the one that brings crazy things around you, but tries to put you to bed at 8pm.

Still a bit of a dumbass as a mafia boss. The moment he found out he has to give salaries to people and try to tax that shit and file it with their IRS but also do the calculations himself, since technically he shouldn't show that information to Gokudera or anyone else that will know how to Math. He lives each paycheck day in fear that he will wake up the next morning and get arrested for fraud.

Actually bars anyone from bringing in pets to Vongola HQ. Believes they have their hands full with their box animals. "No, Yamamoto please we can't keep the box of stray puppies lets take that to a shelter -" "Gokudera, I see that you have a kitten in your pocket where.. where did you get it.." "Hibari.. Carry on, ignore me :)"

Has developed noise-cancelling ears. Doesn't hear the screams anymore. An ally family will comment on the noise at Vongola HQ and Tsuna will be like "..wdym? :o do you hear something?" Look around and will completely ignore Fuuta and I-Pin strapping Lambo to a medical desk as they are threatened by Bianchi, who is putting on sterile gloves and getting the scalpel. The silence though? The silence scares him. (WHAT A SOMBER LINE TO LEAVE OFF ON)

Reborn:

Super good with the ladies. I know this is something said in the story, but I mean the type that has the whole casual flirting with no weight to it thing down. But, also a little bit standoffish, like you'll never really get to know him this way. It's very strategic, but he does it for fun!!

Tries to teach Tsuna how to hide a body on multiple occasions, in case he ever needs it, but mostly to torment Tsuna. "You can't incinerate all your enemies to ash everytime, it'll get really obvious after awhile. You have to spice it up. Now, put on these gloves. I have someone for us to use" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE SOMEONE?"

I've said this one before, but it deserves saying again! I've always believed that pre-curse, his cosplay skills had real use! It was something he would use to sneak into buildings into or seduce who he needed to, before he brings the gun to their head. Very comfortable in skirts, dresses, wigs, makeup, etc. Wears his new identities like a second skin.

He snickers and sneers and smirks his way throughout the series (or does a lil maniacal evil laugh), but I bet his real laugh, uncursed, is deep and low. Something he keeps just in his throat, not loud at all. A softened version of his smirk on his face, pleased and relaxed. If you weren't paying attention, you'd miss it as he flips back into his regular demeanor.

LOVES judging things. Always the referee in their games (Snowfight!). Taste-testing (Mochi chapter!). Anything. He's judgmental and you WILL hear his opinion. I fully believe in the three criminal brothers episode, where Nana gets him coffee beans from a shop, he gets straight home afterwards and stands on the counter with his hands on his hips as it brews. He was prepared. Tsuna buys new snacks so Reborn opens all of them to take a bite and decide which one he likes best before taking it, leaving Tsuna with a bunch of opened bags. Ranks the guardians on obscure shit just to get them riled up "Most likely to win at a dance competition in a chicken suit" and he'll put Yamamoto above Gokudera just to watch him fume. A villain. I love him.

OKAY EVERYONE, THAT'S ALL I'LL DO FOR TODAY. Thank you for reading this far I hope you enjoyed reading it. PLEASE give me your hcs, I'd love to hear them. I need a lil pick me up c: It can be any character. Someday, I might do hcs for the other charas too. I think.. a lot about these guys. OKAY THANKS BYE !!!

#katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #khr #khr reborn #khr headcanons #khr hcs

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local-new-kid-super · 8 months ago

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Toolshed/Stan Marsh x GN!Reader

"Wiggin' Out!"

Featuring: Randy, Mysterion, Professor Timmy, and guest star LORDE!!!

Warnings: None! Just a bit of drinking and usual Randy shenanigans.

Synopsis: You have to make a suprise visit to the Freedom Pals hide out after a weird encounter with Mr. Marsh...

You're the New Kid, you work to protect the city because that's what heroes do. You look after the citizens, stopping robberies at City Wok and finding cat for some of the more... flamboyant members of the town. However, regardless of whether or not you work with Raccoon and Friends or The Freedom Pals, or even alone, you end up dealing with Randy more than the other citizens of South Park...

"Oh! H-hey, New Kid! I need to tell-you, urpppp..." Randy Marsh comes stumbling down the steps of his porch one night while you're trying to focus on patrol, and he puts his hands on his knees as he meets you height. "New kid, listen... I jus' wanna say, it's really fuckin' cool that you've got sssecret identity. It's important, doing good and shit-" He puts a hand on your shoulder. At least he's not actively fighting you about keeping his car keys again, he did a number on Scott.

"Thanks, Mr. Marsh, is there anything else you needed to tell me?" You ask, needing to either get back on patrol or get Mr. Marsh back into his house. He nods and stands fully, almost grave.

"Yes, I do need to tell you something, I'm glad you can tell." He looks of dramatically, and you can sense he's going to go on one of his Randy-Rants. "I understand the weight of a secret identity who does only good, and all the shit that comes with it. Having to sneak around, change outfits, hide money from fucking Sharon..."

"Sir, what are you-"

"That's right, New Kid. I am Lorde." He continues after taking another swig. "And *urp*, I'm willing to teach you, be your Mr. Miyagi, you just gotta help me out-" He stumbles over to his car, unlocking the back. You sign and post up, prepared to take his keys again, when he pulls something from the back seat. "Take ,y w-wig to the dry cleaners, I need full blow out f-for my next show. I'll start training you when you get back-" He chucks the wig at you with poor aim, and it just flops onto the ground beside you, now caked in stray hairs and snow. You pick it up with a gloved hand, sure to avoid touching your skin with it. Before you can even ask him if he'll pay you or tell him that's not what you do, he's back on his porch, asleep and mumbling "Yeah, yeah, yeah... I'm Lorde... yeah..."

Reluctantly, you make your way over to the suburb in the northeast part of town, 'Dark Meadows', and make your way over to the Freedom Pals base. The Raccoon would kick your ass if he knew you were here, but frankly, you just want to get this wig handed off to someone before it gives you some sort of disease or infection.

Ringing the doorbell of Tupperware's house, you wait until a lady with her hair up in a red headband opens it, quirking a brow before nodding. "Oh, you must be one of Tolkien's hero friends! The boys are in the basement, refreshments are upstairs."

You nod, as as you approach the basement door with a nanny cam, you can feel a harsh shiver run down your spine, as if the cold hand of the reaper just smacked you right on the ass. Turning around, the caped crusader known as Mysterion is glaring at you from the shadowed corner of the Black family living room.

"State your business, Raccoon Friend." He spits, posture tense as if preparing for battle. Even if you don't pose a threat right now, chances are Mysterion will still kick your ass. You know how he can be. Putting your hands up in a sign of surrender, you shake your head rapidly.

"I just need to talk to Toolshed, that's all. I'm not here for Raccoon, I'm not trying anything. I came alone, a-and I'm unarmed." You stammer out. Mysterion freaks you out, he was the first hero in town and clearly the most capable. It doesn't help that he's the only hero whose identity you don't at least have a suspicion about.

"I don't fucking buy it." Mysterion stands up from his leaning position, approaching with a snarl. "Get out, or I'll send you back to that fatass in a box-" Before he can get close enough to physically make good on his promise, a voice echoes in your mind, and apparently Mysterion hears it too, as he stands at attention with a huff.

"Now, now, Mysterion," Professor Timmy chides, coming up the stairs with the help of Toolshed and Tupperware, his chair clanking at the two heroes struggle to move it up. "We see the best in everyone, and I can sense the New Kid's intentions are genuine. We must grant everyone a chance to plead their case. Toolshed, take a break. Mysterion, come back downstairs for the briefing, and keep your temper in check." Mysterion casts you one last stinging glance before he heads down the stairs. Tupperware shakes his head as he motions for Wonder Tweek to help him out.

"G-gah! Can't you get a wheelchair lift, T-tupperware? You have money!" Tweak stammers as he begins to descend the stairs.

"You'd think with Professor Timmy's psychic powers he could do this himself..." Tupperware mumbles as the three disappear from view. Toolshed turns to you, giving you a once over. Ever since you prevented his dad from drunk driving, he's been a little warmer to you than the other Freedom Pals.

"Uh- hey, New Kid? What do you need?" Toolshed asks, clearly a little wary, seeing as you still have some ties to Raccoon and Friends. All you can do is hold out the gross wig, unsure how to even explain what happened with his dad earlier. Luckily for you, he understand immediately, brows flattening as he rubs his forehead. "Jesus fucking christ-" He looks back up. "He told you he's Lorde?"

"Yeah, and he gave me this wig, told me to-"

"Go to the dry cleaners and get his wig a blow out, yeah, he's always doing shit like this. And don't let him 'Mr. Miyagi' you either, he did that to me when I took Karate in third grade. He just wants you to fix the dents in the car and clean the windows before my mom notices he messed it up.Here," Toolshed flinches as he takes the wig. "I'll handle it, New Kid. Thanks for helping out my dad... again. I hope this doesn't mean I know you another favor because I'm not really interested in helping Raccoon again." He says, and you both chuckle.

"Yeah, it's no problem, is your dad like, okay though? He kind of all over the place."

Toolshed just shrugs. "Eh. He'll be fine, he always weird like that. Listen, take this." He hands you a slip of paper with his Raccoonstagram tag and his phone number. "I don't think Mysterion will like it very much if you keep showing up in case you see my dad being weird again, so just message me whenever and I'll swing by and deal with it."

You smile as you type the info into your cell. "Gee, thanks, Toolshed. Maybe I could text you even if your dad is perfectly fine?" You asks with a teasing tone, causing the raven-haired hero to go stiff.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah." He says, gulping a little as his grips his tool belt. "I gotta go, I think m' gonna be sick-" he rushes off towards Tupperware's bathroom, leaving you worried you said the wrong thing.

Later that night though, you get a reassuring text. "Hey, New Kid, sorry to rush off on you. Think I just ate something weird. Text me anytime." This is followed by a "Please."

You just laugh and shake your head as you plug in your phone, setting it on the nightstand. One things for sure, that guys just as weird as his father.

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partycatty · 1 year ago

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do you think johnny could kick a door down with his foot and how hot do you think he’d look doing it

johnny cage > kick the door down

short but sweet about him kicking doors in bc it's sexy

[ masterlist ]

okay but being a set designer for johnny's new crime fighting movie. he'd of course be the sexy no-nonsense cop that's full of one-liners and endless charm for the ladies. if there's one thing he loves doing, it's playing himself in media.

so you make a prop door, one that's hollow and a little lighter than a typical door. the scene calls for him kicking the door down to discover the serial killer caught in the act. as you're laying down the varnish, you hear a knock on the prop department door. he's standing in the doorway, admiring the rows and rows of wigs, weapons, and various doohickeys that gave the film life. he puts his hands on his hips and rests his sunglasses on the top of his head.

"i've been thinking," he starts immediately, stepping into the room and inspecting the nearly finished door. "i do my own stunts, you know? i feel like a fake door would look too... cheesy. let's put a real one in, love, whatdya say?"

you wanted to protest, to say something in return, but he's the star. you couldn't say no to his intoxicating closeness and sweet tone. deep inside, you were annoyed that he waited until now to propose the option, but considering you just made what was called for, you had to listen.

the door gets screwed onto the hinges, a heavy front door-type of material. you stand to the side alongside various replacement props, in case one malfunctioned or failed during filming. unamused, you're frustrated that the hollow door you created was now crumpled and thrown away.

the scene is prepared and brought to life. johnny clutches the fake gun in his hands, lifting one leg up and kicking outward with so much force, you realize the camera shakes. the crew tries their best not to gasp, and the serial killer and victim actor visibly jolt at the sudden sound. you also could have sworn you noticed a strange, glitching effect around his dominant leg, but that must have been the speed of his motion to distort your vision in such an odd way.

you didn't think he had it in him, to be honest. you didn't expect his kick to have the strength to knock a real door down, but here he was proving the point that it'd be far more effective than a shabby fake one. and god, you couldn't lie. it was literally the hottest thing you've ever seen. he barely even strained himself, the damn thing was torn in two within a blink.

it only took a few minutes for the shooting of that scene to end, ringing bells and clicking boards as johnny wiggles the tension of his character out of his arms. he strides toward you and the prop table with an all-knowing grin.

"how was that?" he asked, leaning against the wall. "pretty sexy, yeah?"

you nod and swallow dryly, feeling as if eye contact was an impossible task. he was toying with you, a lowly prop creator. he twists his top half to look back, chuckling at the assistants sweeping away the broken wood.

"the real door was a smart idea," you croak out in a desperate attempt to give a genuine compliment. "looked... realistic."

"realistic? honey, i split the damn thing in half! of course it was realistic, because it was real!" he laughs to himself, patting his chest as his nose scrunches. your stomach flutters.

in an attempt to escape the awkward closeness, you pivot and try to walk away, an attempt that fails miserably when you feel his large hand holding your wrist. your eyes trail up from his hand to his face, and you notice a smug expression that's more pronounced than usual.

"hey..." he purrs, voice dropping. his eyes dart to the side, making sure no other cast or crew was within earshot. "i can think of something else i could split in half." his toothy grin feels like a clothesline shot to the neck.

your face warms up so quickly you might've gotten clocked for having a fever. as you try to come up with something, anything to respond with, the A-List action star already laughing loudly and walking away with that damn swagger, pointing finger guns at the director and waving off audio specialists.

and you stayed where you were, in your tiny corner next to the props.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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callmejod · 11 months ago

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Yey! I love him so much but there is so little for him! Could you do a headcanon for him falling in love again (reciprocated) post potc please- if we pretend he didn't die. Pretty please.

Hohohohohohohoho this was also on my mind for a few weeks

Had to mill it over the last few days, sorry for not responding. I also wrote this for an entire day so I hope you like it.

Kinda oc reader, foreign!reader, James being down bad for the reader , reader being too good to be true

This got really long so bare with me

I don't know if I'm even able to write short fics

So the jist is :

If he didn't die and came back to Port Royal as Admiral Norrgington - he would be happy he got his career, his honor and his purpose back.

Living on the sea has changed him. He no longer could stand this uptight, fake world that Port Royal thrives in. The cravats, the paperwork, the wigs. Fuck, he couldn't breathe most of the time, always sweaty in the thousand-layer suits, head itching from both the powder and the weigt of his hats. Having to sit through those god awful formal dinners, balls that bring nothing but superficial gossip was nothing but pure torture. Don't get me wrong - he's grateful for being able to even attend them, but the honest, freeing way of pirate life has broken him out of the cage of chaperoned conversations with ladies and standoffish men making fools out of themselves. He remembers the joyous dancing, full of fluidity and life, now having to endure stiff, distant and "civilised" english dancing.

One day, while having a conversation with one of the Ports ministers he hears about a merchant who's come from afar. He knows of your stay at Jamaica. He had a few documents regarding your long stay brought to his office to sign. Your ship suffered damage in a run-in with pirates and had a lot of repairs to do. A gorgeous vessel. He wonders if the captain is as handsome as their ship. Hopes he gets to meet you before you leave. You only arrived four days ago, and already the talk of the ton. Impressive.

The men described you as lively, wild as a tropical storm. The ministers complained about your accent, your way of dressing, your carefreeness, anything they can put a pin in, they do. James feels quite uncomfortable listening to the convesation not being able to put in anything. He then sets his mind to finding out who you are - he has grown out of judging a person by word from another mouth.

That encounter came earlier than he expected. And to be frank - saved him from a horrible stack of particularily boring paperwork. Having you barge in full-force into his office steaming mad, followed by two petrified soldiers was not something on his agenda. He noticed the few things the ministers mentioned - clothes of unusual cut and style, quite tasteful if his opinion was concerned, hair and hairstyle so different from locals that there was no mistaking you. You were the eccentric foreigner. But fawning over your beauty was for another time - now he had an angry merchant going off about something he both didn't listen to for a while and frankly, couldn't really understand due to your speed of speech.

'S-sorry could you slow down a second. I'm afraid I'm loosing some of what you're saying."

'Sir they need to make an appoin-'

'It's fine gentlemen, this must be urgent if I am needed. Please, let us speak in private.'

After the guards step out, he offers you to sit and something to drink.

'I have no need for no courtesy Admiral. I need a problem fixed. You can skip this stupid charade.'

'Oh, then it is more serious than I've thought. What is the problem?'

'Those - those'

You wave your hand in the air to make him help you find a word.

'Minosters of yours'

'Ministers?'

'Yes! Those idiots. They won't let me handle my own ship the way it needs to be. It needs to be seen by - argh!'

Your frustration runs high. He smiles.

'There's no need to stress. You mean carpenters? Is there a problem with the wood of your ship?'

'Are those who work with wood?'

'Yes, so you need to hire carpenters and the dock officials won't let you? That is strange. You have registered your stay and gave us all the documents we need.'

'But they don't!!'

You grab his forearm and try dragging him out of the office. He slows you down and explains that he will talk to them, just let him take a few things. You scoff and cross your arms.

'You English and your weird rules. Wasting time and not helping.'

He couldn't agree with you more. He smiles and starts walking out. When you two make your way to the port, he has difficulty keeping his pace with you - passersby stare at you storming off to port with their Admiral desperately trying to keep up with you. You sometimes mumble curses in languages he does not ever try to understand, but you two make your way faster than he realised was possible.

There you stomp to an official, who not seeing James trailing behond you shouts:

'Ow piss of ya cunt! I won't let you disgrace our carpenters by working on a ship that carries your kind!'

James is stunned you don't rip his head off when he sees your fists clench by your sides. Anger nips at his mind, how dare he treat you like this?! When slows his pace and asks in a flat voice:

'What do you mean "their kind"? Is that how my officials treat esteemed, foreign guests? And how dare you use such language to a person that was only looking for your help.'

The man's face whites and he starts to stutter an apology, but James stops it and sends him to get carpenters. Admiral's orders. When the official slips away to fill his duty, James turns to you and starts profusely apologising for the incompetence of his subordinates.

He's horrified when you inform him, that this is not the first - ha!, only time of being mistreated because of your looks or manner of speech. Anger boils in him when he hears that not only you, but majority of your crew had to endure this for a while now, accomodation denied not by matter of the lack of, but prejudice. Before he even thinks, he immedeately offers you a place in his home - something that brings surprise to you both. He cannot stand the thought you had to sleep on your ship when there was far grater comforts available.

He flushes red and again apologises for being inappropraite, but gets cut off by your boisterous laughter. The sound hypnotises him, seeing you smile for the first time makes his heart bang on his ribs. You laugh so hard tears come to you eyes and a shortness of breath. He cares not that many are looking at you two or the impropriatey of the situation. Time freezes for him. There's only you and him.

'Oh admiral, you are funny. I cannot leave my men to sleep on the ship when I am given all comforts of life.'

James flushes again and meekly asks:

'Then would you accept a simple dinner as an apology for your mistreatement?'

He almost doubles over when you beam at him and accept. The way you look at him so amused - he would make the biggest fool out of himself just to keep that look in your eyes. You set a date for a few weeks later and James makes sure that your your crew is not being mistreated anymore than they already have. Of course, Gilette and Groves relentlessly teased him for his obvious affection towards you. They weren't surprised though, it was hard not to even tolerate you.

Over those few weeks he started to watch you closely. Both of you were invited for a few balls, and the conversations you two had were the most fulfilling he had in a long long time. Your knowledge of the sea, of literature, politics and history had impressed him and added a new dimention to your person - not only beautiful, but wise.

He saw you many times playing with children on the street, helping people in need, play-fighting with young boys, showing them your battle scars and sometimes even your handpistol or sword.

You brought an air of freshness to the stuffy, ever "proper" society of Port Royal. You smiled often, you were polite to those who deserved it, made an effort to not be a bother. Yet, you never hesitated to get you crew in line when they were causing a ruckus.

Your manner of speech was charming, that certain twang to english and he would be a liar if he denied finding your way of trying to remember words or coming up with new ones when you couldn't was not adorable. Talking with using your hands was also a thing he found endearing. He would deny it to his grave in front of you, die of embarrasment if you knew. He heard that you got into a heated conversation with your first officer, and while talking with using your hands smacked a passing lady in the face. Apologised a lot and brought her an apology gift in form of a few yards of stunning blue silk. The dress she had comissioned to be made of it was breathtaking. But nothing could ever compare to your beauty.

All this was just pulling him into your direction. And when the awaited evening came, James was so nervous about everithing being perfect. You were perfect so your expectations were not to be let down. But, you being you, as if feeling his nervousness arrived early and instead of courtsies and stiff welcomes hugged him like a family member long missed.

As the dinner went on, your conversation flowed over many topics, never ending, never boring. You moved to the sitting room, where to James' torture you sprawled yourself over a love seat and rested. He sat, watching you strech like cat, admiring you quietly. You made eye contact with him and asked :

'James, would you like me to court you?'

He choked on his spit. In a coughing attack, he flushed so red, you jumped to your feet and held his shoulder to try and help. After a while of hacking and a visit from a concerned maid, he stopped and looked at you, not knowing what to say. He saw the unceirtainty in your eyes, even hurt.

'Do you not wish me to court you, James?'

His eyes widened. After years of endlessly chasing Elizabeth's affection, you being so open about it shocked him. He knew he harboured feelings for you but never imagined that feeling would be reciprocated. He took your hands and squeezed them.

'I was just cuaght off guard, dear don't worry. It's standard for men here to ask someone to court.'

'So I'm supposed to wait forever? You have been open with your feelings, but I am an impatient person James. I do not make games.'

'Play games?'

'Is that how you say it?"

James chuckled an held a hand to your face. That prompted you to surge forward and kiss him. For a second, he froze in surprise but leaned into you, sighing into the kiss. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he moaned.

That made you break apart from him and look into the sea green of his eyes. Your warm breath fanned his face, heating it impossibly more. You seemed lost in them and made him nervous that he did something wrong. Seeing his concern, you locked your lips again in a gentle kiss. God, he never wanted it to end. He smiled into the kiss, making you giggle. You two broke apart and looked at each other.

James then spoke :

'I would very much like you to court me, if you let me do the same.'

'Finally making some sense, James.'

#james norrington #james norrington x reader #commodore norrington #admiral james norrington #potc #potc fanfiction

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amuseoffyre · 1 year ago

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"Tis I, Calypso."

My lady presented me with a new challenge when I started working on her because all my muppets are torso-up, only. I have got a pair of legs I can use for them, but generally, they're big enough to go on my forearm.

But for this one, I wanted to include her dress with its froth and glam. This meant putting a hand-hole in her back instead of going up-and-under. It also means she's more than 3 feet long including all the skirts.

I also made new patterns for the head and body to give her a bit more shape than my standard model and resized the arms to match. Also made new eye moulds for The Drama. The make-up and tattoos were all painted/inked on, except the eyelashes and lids which were done with felt. The wig, beard and moustache were all cut with razor and stitched and shaped.

Full disclosure: the dress was a work of improv. I used no measuring tools and eyeballed everything 😂Winging it, this is the way. Just draped it, pinned it and snipped and hoped for the best. And to be honest, I'm delighted :D

(side note, trying to film and/or take photos of a very long muppet when you don't have very long arms and anyone else to take pictures is... challenging)

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means muppets #wee john feeney #calypso #craft #muppets #puppets #kristian nairn

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mikalame · 2 years ago

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hiya!!! could you write a really sweet fic (story) about y/n and Bill getting a huge matching tattoo together and Bill being asked about this tattoo on an interview and he just gets really shy etc (could you make the reader female and a singer) please ?

bye :D

"Are you sure you want to do this meine leibe, this is gonna take a couple hours, and will hurt a bit being where it is" Bill asks, eyes searching your face for any sign you may not feel 100% about this, exspechily because its a tattoo that will be on you forever.

"Yes im sure Bill, I've researched and all plus ill ask for some numbing cream, are you okay bill" You ask thinking that the reason he keeps asking you if your okay is becasue he isn't.

"Of course, i cant wait" he says kissing your cheek giving you tight hug and pushing open the tattoo shop's door.

Time skip

"how are you feeling hun, you in any serious pain" Bill asks eyes scanning over you again looking down at you, eyebrows pinched.

"Im fine Billl" you whine playfulling pushing him away giggling.

You two smile at eachother and walk to your car you look at your forearm and the tattoo placed on it, the phantom pain of it comeig back to you but the pride and meaning of it over powers it.

Time skip again

"SO WELCOME..... TOKIO HOTEL!" the interveiwer yells at the camera, the crowd behind it full on fangirls and boys yell in exsitement waving their banners and posters around hoping to catch one of the band members attention.

As the band walks on the stage single file line they wave at the fans, the majority of them smiling wider and yelling louder, while the crazy super fans faint or start yelling not so innocent things (i dont blame them ahaha)

"Hello we are so happy to be on the show with you today" Bill says taking the mircophone from the interviewer so the audiance could hear them clearly.

"Well im glad, so today we have a couple questions to ask you, if thats all right with you all" She says looking over the band and seeing their nodding heads.

"Okay, great sooo the first question is from.... Marie asking if any of you have any big regrets in you career". She cocks an eyebrow then looks at the band, a smile on her face.

"Oh well uhm probably styling my hair with CANS of hairspray, kinda wish i just wore a wig but oh well" Bill says shrugging passing the mircophone along.

"Oh hahaha, Okay next question" She says smile dropping as she reads the next couple of questions out.

"Oooo okay this one is for Bill , aparently you were seen with ___ going into a tattoo parlor, do you care to show us what you got" she asks smirk stretching on her face.

"Oh, uhm no sorry" Bill says shaking his head in disagreement, but the interviwer just keeps on begging.

After a while it really started to get on him nerves, more so when she brought the audiance in on it as well, but bill just kept on saying no, blushing hinding if face.

The tattoo was very important to bill and he didnt feel like it should be made public like this, exspeachily when it had such a deep meaning for bill and ___.

"Oh, well sorry ladys and gentlemen thats all the time we have today, sorry i coldn't make bill show the new tattoo but mabey next time" she say fake smile still prominent on her face.

As the band walks of the stage fareing their good byes bill mutters under his voice.

"There wont be a 'next time'".

They all groan as they sit down in the tour bus, tom cracking his back as well as gustav. "She was real adamant on getting the tattoo shown" Georg laughs opening a bag of chips sitting down across from the boy.

"Yeah she need to learn to take no for an answer, she must be a real treat in bed" tom laughs sarcastically behind the two.

"mmh" bill agrees putting his headphones in listening to a song ___ and him made when he was staying at her house one of the first times they met thinking about calling her when they head off to check up on her.

SORRY GUYS I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO END IT 😭.

taglist @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam @adissonsss

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer #georg listing #tom kaulitz

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mugloversonly · 9 days ago

Text

Keep on Dancing

@genderthings Day 2 prompt “Lipstick/drag” | transman Eddie Munson | rating: G full disclosure I was listening to Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan when I started writing this. (Eddie’s outfit is 100% based on her look when she sang this at the grammys) summary: Eddie invites Robin and Steve to his drag show. AO3

The bell above the door of Family Video chimed, signaling Eddie’s entrance. He scanned the store to make sure it was empty of customers before he skipped to the desk. Steve and Robin were in the middle of a skittles fight before they froze at the bell.

“Hello lord and lady.” Eddie said with a bow. Steve rolled his eyes but Robin did an approximation of a curtsy.

“What’s up?” Robin asked. The nerves he talked himself out of in the car were back; but, these were friends and he trusted them.

“Do you remember last week when you said you wanted to go to more queer events?” He asked as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Robin nodded. “You free this weekend?”

“Why? Want to hit a gay club or something?” Steve asked. Eddie slapped a flier that read The Orb Drag Show with Saturday’s date down on the counter.

Eddie tried to hide his shaking hands. He had a huge crush on Steve; and if Robin was to be believed, Steve felt the same. But before he could do anything with that information, he had to show Steve this part of himself.

“OO! You want to go to a drag show?!” Robin exclaimed. Eddie smiled, he knew she’d love the idea.

“Actually, I want you two to go to a drag show.” He said. Steve’s brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a math problem.

“You’re not going to come?” He asked. Eddie shook his head before he explained.

“I’m performing.”

“Um! Of course we’re going!” She squealed. “Right Steve?” She turned to her friend. Who was frozen in place, great.

“Oh, yeah! Yes. We’ll be there.” He said after he shook himself.

“Cool, I’ll see you there.” Eddie smiled.

“Don’t tell us which queen you are, I want to guess.” Robin said. Eddie nodded and said his goodbyes. He exited the video store, a new pep in his step.

~~~

Saturday crept up on him and before he knew it he was applying hot pink lipstick. He had no reason to be nervous, he’s preformed here a dozen times; but then, Steve hadn’t been in the audience before today. He wasn’t going to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, if Steve didn’t like this side of him...that would be the end of it.

He shook his head to stop himself from spiraling and turned back to the mirror. He admired his handwork around his eyes: bold eye shadow in different shades of pink and white, with rhinestones glued on. His body suit was a maroon leather that held tight to his figure, his sky high, thigh high boots matched his cowboy hat perfectly. For this show he was able to use is real hair, just styled more curly and less teased than normal. Thank god for that, trying to fit all this hair in a wig was an ordeal all on its own. His tattoos were mostly hidden.

“Hey, Kas? You’re on deck.” The stage manager said as he peaked into the room. Eddie stood and took his place at side stage, slipping his hat on as the final touch. The queen before him wrapped up and the MC took the stage.

“Next to the stage, please give it up for Kassidy Rose!” Eddie took a deep breath and took his place at center stage. The spot light lit him up and he fell into his role.

Steve had never been to a drag show. He didn’t know what to expect but this was certainly not it. Robin told him before they got there that any drag queens he talked to were to be addressed as she. Which he didn’t totally get, until he saw the first queen take the stage.

She was tall and beautiful and Steve realized he liked drag. Steve knew she was a man, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that that didn’t really matter here. She worked the crowd like royalty should, really earning that title of queen.

He had a handful of dollars in his pocket that Robin made him bring. For some reason, he thought it would be like a strip show so he had to tip the dancers. And it kind of was, but without the actual stripping. Steve held onto his money, determined to give it all to Eddie.

“Do you think we’ll be able to tell which one is Eddie?” He asked. Robin shrugged.

“He’s our friend, we should recognize him.” Though she didn’t sound confident. “Let’s have a drink.” They moved to bar, got a beer each, and found a table with two empty chairs near the front.

Three performers and two beers later the MC announced, “Kassidy Rose!” A soft tune started up as the spotlight turned on to…

“That’s Eddie.” Steve whispered. He was sure of it, her hair was exactly like his.

I know you wanted me to stay

Kassidy lip sang along. At first Steve didn’t hear any music, his eyes racked along Kassidy’s body. Her slim waist was cinched by the bodysuit, her pale thighs on full display and Eddie’s bat tattoo peaked out at her elbow.

God, what have you done?

You’re a pink pony girl

And you dance at the club

Kassidy moved to the music, strutting along the stage, shaking her hips and hair to the beat. Steve’s eyes widened in wonder.

Oh mama, I’m just having fun

On the stage in my heels

It’s where I belong down at the

As the beat dropped Kassidy jumped off the stage landing perfectly in the splits. Steve was impressed, the height of the stage and heels, mixed with Eddie’s balance, it was wonder she didn’t break an ankle. Her leg swung in a high arch to pull her back to her feet and Steve had to adjust his pants a bit. He had no idea Eddie was so flexible.

As she moved through the audience, collecting dollar bills, Steve remembered the money in his pocket. He took it out and waited for her to make her way to them. She spotted Robin first.

Pink Pony Club

She ran a finger down Robin’s cheek and gently took the bills out of her hand. Then Kassidy turned to Steve.

West Hollywood

Kassidy smiled almost shyly at him as she placed her cowboy hat on his head. He couldn’t look away as she turned around and grinded her hips against him for a moment. It was enough that there was no way she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

Kassidy turned, kissed him on the cheek, and took the money from his hand. She shoved them into the top of the bodysuit before she moved back onto the stage.

Steve stared slack jawed when she stuck her hands backstage only to re-emerge with Eddie’s sweetheart. She burst into the guitar solo headbanging in time.

“Why am I attracted to Eddie right now?” Robin whispered in awe to Steve. He nodded in agreement, though he’s always been attracted to Eddie.

Kassidy knelt down with her shoulder blades touching the stage as her fingers flew along the frets, thrusting her hips into her guitar. Steve groaned at the sinfully deep arched she bent her back into as the song came to a close.

“Make some noise for Kassidy Rose!” The MC exclaimed as he came back on to the stage. Kassidy stood and bowed before running off stage. Steve was so fucked.

~~~

Eddie took a deep breath as the show wrapped up. He was sure Robin enjoyed herself, and he hoped beyond all hope that Steve did. But now, was the moment of truth. Still in costume, minus the hat, he went to meet his friends.

“Oh my god! Eddie that was amazing!” Robin exclaimed.

“Thanks! But here you call me Kassidy or Kas for short.” Eddie smiled and hugged the girl. They pulled apart. He turned and hugged Steve.

“You were awesome Ed...I mean, Kas.” Steve said as he too went in for a hug.

“Really?” He asked shyly.

“Yeah. How do you walk in those?” Steve asked and pointed at the heels. Eddie laughed.

“Lots and lots of practice.”

Steve nodded contemplatively before he glanced at Robin, his eyes huge. Robin gasped and without a word, walked away. Their silent communication would never be less weird to him.

“What was that?” Eddie asked as his brows furrowed.

“Will you let me take you out?” Steve replied.

“Like a date?” Eddie froze. This was what he wanted, but suddenly he was afraid it was only happening because of the show. As if he read his mind, Steve went to reassure him.

“I’ve wanted to ask for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. After tonight, with the…” he gestured to the cowboy hat he still wore. “I thought I’d try my luck.” He shrugged.

“You asking Eddie or Kas?” Eddie asked. Steve tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Both.”

“Today’s your lucky day then. We’d love to go on a date with you.” Eddie smiled and stepped closer, barely any space between them.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve whispered. Eddie nodded, his eyes slipped shut. His world tilted on its axis when Steve’s lips touched his.

The next show, he would preform Steve’s favorite Tears for Fears song, Head over Heels and he’d land his first stage jumping death drop. Steve would throw a worried fit over it but Eddie wouldn’t care.

For now though, he pulled Steve onto the dance floor.

I’m gonna keep on dancing