#hand tied wigs

[spellboundwigs]

Influence Elite - Signature Wig Collection by Raquel Welch

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[vaimetanyx]

@themolluscasometimes said she wanted a Skinhe plush and now this skin creature lives in her home because I asked 'how much do you want one?' and everything spiraled from there. The most interesting part of all this has been explaining who and what he is to people not in the know - stay insane svsss fandom

[sumeria]

not to be controversial but genuinely carmen farala is probably the most talented winner any drag race franchise has ever had and she constantly posts shit casually that has me gagged

[beautifulwigs]

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[itsamenickname]

Bowser: *adjusts his bowtie before holding out his hand* Let's rule the world, together. Forever. Will you marry me?

Luigi: *staring at Bowser with an annoyed expression as he's tied to a chair and also wearing Peach's dress and wig*

[porcelana-r0ta]

JOYRIDE

Fandoms: Batman, Danny Phantom

Relationship: Dan Phantom/Jason Todd

Word Count: 3,823

Ao3 Link: Available only to registered users

Summary:

Dan doesn't want to join his Habitudes group for their dumb community service project, which is why he lets two idiot goons kidnap him off the streets. When said goons turn out to work for The Joker, Dan decides to do something about him, maniac to maniac.

Or: The Joker tries to live stream a ransom, but ends up live streaming his own execution.

xxXxx

When Dan Nightingale is grabbed off the streets of Gotham, he makes a half-hearted struggle, just so he can seem human. The kiddie hero business and the indiscriminate genocidal tendencies no longer call to him like they used to, and while he’s still an impatient person who is intolerant of disruptive bullshit, he needs a little excitement in his life. 

Plus, he wants an excuse to get out of his Habitudes community service project. His pretentious trust fund baby groupmates chose to volunteer at some fucking coffee shop instead of something normal, like a hospital or an animal shelter. (Dan didn’t even know a coffee shop was an option, but anything goes for wealthy elites who want to roleplay as an impoverished barista, apparently.) Well, Jay Peters wasn’t so bad, and he was just as irritated as Dan was about the others’ choice. Plus, the chill that settles into Dan’s unused lungs when the other student is around shows that he’s at least Death-touched like him, even if they’ve never acknowledged that to each other. 

So, yeah. He lets himself be kidnapped by two goons, even if he could easily break free and make their insides their outsides. It could be interesting! Enrichment in his pandimensional parole! Everyone’s got to have fun sometimes! It’s like a little joyride, as a treat! But he isn’t the one committing the crime! How quaint!

Dan is a very polite captive. He lets himself be pulled into a creeper van with minimal resistance. He lets the goons zip tie his hands. He lets them put a black bag over his head, even though it smells of weed. He doesn’t count the number of turns they take, nor does he try to talk them into letting him go. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. When they eventually park, he allows the men to pull him out of the creeper van and into some building—likely a warehouse, judging by the echo of their footsteps on the floor. And finally, he lets the goons cut off the zip ties around his wrists and then tie them to the metal arms of a chair. 

He’s a great captive. And he’s so going to be excused from that stupid Habitudes community service project!

He’s content to sit and wait. The Bats of Gotham City usually have a good response time for villain bullshit, and if they don’t, then it’s not like any Fear gas or sex pollen will affect him. Dan’s not really human anymore, even if he is capable of looking so. 

Dan does not have to wait long. The footsteps increase and then stop altogether, and then a cackle fills the air. “Camera man ready? Mics? Charges?” The voice is familiar, yet grating. Where has he heard it before? In his past future, maybe?

“Yes, sir,” comes the reply from several different people. 

A pleased cackle, “Then let’s get started!”

“We are live in three… two…” 

At the silent one, the cackle echoes through the room once again. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen of Gotham City and beyond! I’m your favorite Joker, LIVE! With one of your favorite Wayne children!” 

Dan, who has been relatively chill this whole time, tenses. The Joker. That’s why he recognizes that cackle and voice. He had killed the clown before in his original timeline. Ugh, clowns. He fucking hates clowns. Hates their stupid pale makeup and their stupid dumb wigs and their exaggerated eyes and he fucking hates how they make him feel like he’s not in control. 

And what was that about a Wayne? 

Dan doesn’t think killing someone like The Joker in his original timeline should be held against him. Honestly, the guy is a megalomaniacal terrorist who abuses the guise of mental illness to get away with crimes against humanity. Dan had at least owned up to his own sanity, and never tried to hide from the law or anything like that. He just kind of… killed the law. 

….ACAB? 

A hand suddenly grips at the bag on his head, grabbing hair with fabric. “That’s right, folks! Here’s Gotham’s beloved Dick Grayson!” The bag is yanked off his head, revealing Dan in all his scowling glory. And Dan is a lot of things, but an exact Dick Grayson copy he is not, so while the goons may have mistaken him as Grayson, The Joker does not. 

He pauses, studying Dan’s face. Dan raises a mocking eyebrow, then looks around the warehouse. 

It’s empty and dimly lit, but it’s not a problem for his superior vision. The metal walls are an ugly beige and the floor is a gray cement, its color only broken by mysterious brown stains, and now the discarded black bag. Dan is up against a wall, surrounded by filming equipment. The camera in question is just a fucking iPhone 12 attached to a ring light. There’s one goon behind the camera, moderating the live stream. There is another goon holding a boom mic above Dan and The Joker, and there are four others behind the camera. All of the goons who are not handling equipment are holding toy musket guns. It is probably safe to assume that there are similarly armed goons guarding the doors that Dan cannot see from his position tied to a chair. Likely two goons per exit. In a warehouse of this size, there have to be at least six more goons that Dan isn’t seeing. 

The Joker grits his teeth. “Who brought the Grayson kid here.” It’s not a question so much as it is a demand. 

“We did, boss,” two goons pipe up proudly from behind the camera. 

“Why don’t you two come up on camera so I can congratulate you for good work?” The Joker grins beseechingly. 

One of the two goons, the blond, shuffles nervously at this, whereas the other puffs out his chest. So only one has any brain cells. 

The prideful one grabs his comrade by the arm and drags him up to the camera with Dan and The Joker. They stand in front of Dan, blocking him from the camera’s view.

“I always reward good work, you see,” he says to his henchmen. “Now, you think this is good work?” 

“Yes, sir,” says Pride, while Blond frowns. 

“Take a good look at his face.” The villain gestures angrily to Dan’s unimpressed face. “What do you see?” 

“Dick Grayson, sir,” 

Blond shuffles, “He looks like he isn’t scared.” 

“No! Wrong! This isn’t Dick Grayson! This– This is some—” The Joker takes another glance at Dan, noting the black Gotham U hoodie that hides his muscles. “This is some fucking college twink!”

“Twink?” Dan mutters to himself, disgruntled. Sure, the hoodie is baggy and he’s seated instead of standing, but do those two things add up to him looking like a twink? 

The color has drained out of even Pride’s face at The Joker’s words. “Sir, please—”

But The Joker is already pulling out a comically large toy gun that probably has real bullets, and Dan sighs. It would probably be bad for his parole if he let a bunch of humans die in front of him. 

He phases out of the ropes binding him, safe from view with the two idiots in front of him. Then, he kicks The Joker down to the floor, sending the toy gun scattering across the cement floor of the warehouse. He stands and knocks Pride and Blond’s heads together, knocking them out as The Joker screeches with rage. 

The goons behind the camera aim their guns, but Dan is already moving behind the camera. He snags the guns out of their hands, snapping them in half with strength he doesn’t even have to think about. He moves so fast that at first they don’t even realize what’s happened. By the time they connect their missing firearms to the broken bits of metal on the floor, Dan has already clobbered them over the head, knocking them unconscious. 

He takes out the cameraman, too, and the goon holding the boom mic. Then, in mere seconds, he takes out all the goons at each exit, and he’s back at the filming station by the time The Joker has staggered to his feet. His original estimate had been off by two—there were eight other goons in total. 

Dan checks the iPhone—still live streaming. On TikTok, of all the goddamn apps. The comments are going wild on what’s going on: where’s the college student, how did he kick The Joker like that, do you guys think that those two goons have brain damage now, what was that metal scraping sound, where is The Joker? 

“Hey, brat!” snarls The Joker, clutching at his ribs. “That was not part of the script.”

Dan hates clowns, and he especially hates The Joker. Sure, Dan wiped out nearly all of humanity. Who doesn’t have a bad decade of villainous activity? But he did it quickly, and he didn’t do it under the guise of insanity. He owned up to it. And if Dan’s being honest, he’s… disgusted by it all now, even if it hurts himself to admit. 

If Dan isn’t human, then neither is The Joker. 

Still off camera, Dan moves so fast he basically teleports in front of The Joker. The other man stumbles back, but Dan reaches out and grabs him by the throat. He chokes and claws at Dan, but Dan isn’t human anymore, and so his nails catch on nothing but the cloth of his hoodie. He doesn’t even feel it.

He drags The Joker to the chair in front of the still live camera and shoves him into it. While he recovers from being choked, gasping and shuddering and so fucking human , Dan forces his hands behind him and uses the ropes he’d phased out of to tie The Joker up. When he ties the last knot, Dan stands tall, staring into the camera. 

“Hello, friends and family,” he greets the audience. He gives a small smile, and he makes sure that he is perfectly, utterly human with normal blue eyes and normal black hair and normal human skin. “As you can see, things have turned around for The Joker here. Now, I’m sure his original intent was to ransom out the Wayne kid, and it would be a shame to see that hard work and planning go to waste on a mistake, wouldn’t it? So why don’t we hold a… reverse ransom? Only, I don’t need funds. I’ll accept donations. My venmo is vladsucks03. My cashapp is dannight07.”

Dan’s smile grows into a wide grin. “Feel free to donate if you like. But even not a single person donates, The Joker dies today.” 

The Joker spits out a gasping laugh, “Ha! You think you can kill me? I gotta admit, that’s a good joke. But Batman—”

“Batman what?” Dan asks, stepping off camera to grab the black bag on the floor. He shoves it halfway into his pocket. He walks to The Joker’s toy gun, the only one he hadn’t broken, and he picks it up. 

“Batman is already on his way here,” The Joker says. “He always is by this point.”

“And Batman will save you?” Dan snorts. He moves to check the live stream, comments coming in so fast that the only reason he can read them is because he’s not human anymore. 

Is this for real

fuck yeah kill that guy

💥🔫🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

extremely common gotham uni W

im donating 50$ rn

Can we vote on how joker dies

Lol does he fr think that batman would help him

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Does anyone else find this incredibly attractive or is it just me 😳

guys my joker/batman fic update is gonna slap after this

Joker’s cooked

bro is about to have ao3 level donations

Hey what’s his cashapp again

Omg i think that guy is in my bio class

I’ll donate when hes acc dead

doin god's work 🥹👍

If bro doesnt do it he’s cooked

This guy is gonna have infinite rizz if he pulls this off

The Joker scoffs, “Of course he will. He’s done it before.”

Dan yanks his gaze from the comments to The Joker’s face, “What?”

The Joker nods his head up arrogantly. “Batsy can’t live without me. He saved me after fickle-ickle Nightwing killed me.” 

“Huh.” Dan blinks consideringly, switching his gaze back to the comments. They’re all freaking out about this new information. He steps back into the camera frame, pulling the hammer back on the toy gun. “Then I’ll just have to make sure it sticks.” 

He points the gun at The Joker’s face and fires. As expected, rainbow confetti is the only thing that flies out, dusting over The Joker in celebration of what is to come. 

The Joker laughs. 

“Cute,” says Dan. He walks around The Joker to stand behind him, directly in front of the camera. He removes the black bag from his pocket and puts it over The Joker’s face. 

He shoves the muzzle of the gun into the back of The Joker’s skull. Pulling back the hammer, he asks, “Any last words?” 

He pulls the trigger before The Joker can say anything. It’s funny. As expected, the second gunshot is a real bullet. The Joker’s head and body jerks forward. Blood splatters on Dan’s face, but it’s mostly on the floor and the unconscious Blond and Pride and on The Joker himself. 

For a moment, Dan can only stare. The Joker’s body is crumbled in on itself, held up only by the bindings on his arms to a chair nailed to the ground. 

He feels big. He feels good. 

He feels… dirty.

He clears his throat. He drops the gun. He lifts up the soaking black bag up just enough to check for a pulse. After thirty seconds of nothing, he says, “Well, that’s the end of The Joker.” 

He looks up, staring into the camera lens, and he chuckles. “I missed my community service project because of this bozo. You guys think my professor will accept this as community service?”

You guys think this will affect my ghost parole? he doesn’t ask. 

He bends down to check the pockets of Blond. He finds his phone and uses Blond’s thumbprint to bypass the password. His stomach curdles at the home screen—a picture of Blond and a little girl with his eyes and his nose. His eyes burn and he calls 911, trying not to blink.

“911 dispatch. What is your emergency?”

“Yeah, uh, I killed The Joker. But he kidnapped me first, so. Turnabout.” 

“You— sorry, you what?”

“I killed The Joker. He’s dead. I checked his pulse and everything.”

“O-oh.” The woman on dispatch sounds strangled. There are muffled sounds, frantic, that the receiver only barely picks up. Dan wonders what she’s doing, Asking for verification? Trying to triangulate his location? Celebrating the fucking good news? “Do you know where you are, sir?”

“Some warehouse, I guess. Probably at the docks. Do you want me to check?”

“No, sir, please stay where you are if there are no immediate threats.”

“Got it.” He clicks his tongue. 

“Can you tell me your name, sir? Are you injured somewhere?”

“I’m Dan. Uh, Dan Nightingale. I guess he thought I was the Grayson kid. Um. Dick Grayson, I mean. And no, I’m fine. His henchmen are injured and unconscious, though.” 

“Right. Okay. Hi, Dan. I’m Claire. First responders and patrol units are on their way to your location now.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess.” He almost wants to ask if she thinks that he’ll end up in Arkham for this, but he’s pretty sure that there’s no jury on Earth that would convict him. Well, maybe not. He did ask for donations for murdering The Joker, after all. That might put a damper on his defense. 

“Dan?” asks Claire. 

“Yeah?”

“Is– is he really dead?”

Dan looks at the body and kicks a limp leg, avoiding looking at the gory black bag. Nothing. “Yep. As a doornail.” And he knows death intimately. 

She breathes a shaky, staticky sigh into the receiver. “Thank you, Dan.”  

He blinks, “Can you get fired for saying that?”

She laughs, “Honey, everyone not on break right now is listening to this. My boss just broke a bottle of tequila out from his desk.” 

He barks out his own laugh. “Oh?”

“You’re about to be very popular, Dan.”

“Well, I—” 

And seventeen minutes late to the party, the windows at the top of the warehouse shatter open. In cascades of broken glass and grappling cables, the Bats drop down to the floor. 

“Away from the body,” commands Batman as soon as his feet hit the ground. His little birdies, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and the newest Robin fall in line with him. Robin makes quick work of rounding up the unconscious goons and binding them. 

Dan obligingly puts the hand that isn’t holding the phone up in the air, but before moving away from the camera’s view, he says, “Just a reminder guys, my venmo is vladsucks03 and my cashapp is dannight07. Please remember that I might need a lawyer soon.”

“Okay, funny guy,” Nightwing says, entering into frame and pulling Dan away by the shoulder while Red Robin shuts down the live stream.

“It was self-defense and defense of another. A whole population, if you will,” Dan says. 

Red Hood snickers, “Only crime here was the kidnapping.” 

“Dan, are you okay?”

“Bats are here, Claire,” Dan tells her. He watches Batman lift the black bag off The Joker’s face, revealing the viscera and gray matter beneath. He’s not smiling anymore. Dan hasn’t seen that kind of gore in years. He’s the cause of it once more and he doesn’t regret that. It feels invigorating. It feels devastating. “I guess I’ll hang up now. If The Joker is mysteriously alive after this, it’s because Batman couldn’t handle not being the hero.” 

“Dan—” He hangs up as Batman’s shoulders go minutely tense at his words. The man stands fully, turning his head slightly to narrow his cowled eyes at Dan. 

“Problem, sir?” 

“You killed The Joker.” 

“I saved myself and his two idiots.” He shrugs. 

“You had him restrained.” 

He rests an offended hand against his chest. “I was frightened that he would escape, sir, just as he escapes from the very place you put him every eight to ten months.” The Bat doesn’t want to be judge, jury, and executioner. Fine. Whatever, he gets it. Dan hadn’t wanted to be that, neither as hero nor villain. He’d wanted to save, he wanted to be saved, and then he wanted everyone to feel like he did. But he’s not so prideful now to know that he wouldn’t have stopped then, not unless someone handled the job permanently. 

The Joker needed permanence. 

The Bat can play fucking judge all he wants. But he’d be just as villainous if he tried enforcing his own moral code on other people.

“You asked for donations,” Red Robin says dryly. “You were basically putting a hit out on him.”

“My art in life textbook is $300. How much do you think a lawyer is going to cost?”

“Hn.” 

“Stop giving the man a hard time for doing a public service, Batman.” Red Hood shoulder checked Nightwing away and held out a gloved hand for Dan to shake. He takes the other’s hand and firmly shakes it. The contact, while not to skin, gives Dan goosebumps and chills his lungs. 

Jay?

“Let’s hope my Habitudes professor agrees with you.”

“She will. Everyone with three brain cells to rub together will.” The man cuts a glare at Batman. 

Dan didn't say what pronouns his professor uses. 

The rumble in Red Hood’s voice is enticing. He looks at the other man, really looks, and notices his broad shoulders, how tall he is (though Dan towers over him even  disguised as a human), and his muscled arms. Arms that Dan’s pretty sure are normally hidden beneath a Gotham U hoodie, just like his own. 

He smirks as sirens sound in the distance. “Let’s hope the cops agree with you.”

“They will,” Hood says. It sounds like a promise for something entirely different. 

“Gag me,” Red Robin mutters.

Robin says, “For once I agree with you.”

Without looking away from Dan, Red Hood flips the two off, and yeah, maybe redemption can be more promising than he initially thought. 

xxXxx

A week later, Dan finally goes back to his regular schedule. His ghost parole is intact—he’d even been thanked by some Gothamite ghosts, and Danny begrudgingly told him that there were ghosts who said they’d riot if Dan was given any punishment. As for the mortal side of things, Vlad Masters had graciously sent his team of attorneys to Dan’s aid. While Dan still hates him, he has no issue about using a free team of lawyers to defend him. He’s guaranteed to walk.

Jazz had called him. It made his core unsettled and stony. She wasn’t disappointed, and he doesn’t know how that makes him feel. He doesn’t regret it—The Joker would never change. But what does that say about him and his progress? 

Jazz in general makes him uneasy now. She used to be his big sister, and now she’s younger than him, and he tried to kill her, and— she’s different from his Jazz, is all. But if she’d always known like she said, then his Jazz did, too, right? Could she still be his Jazz, a Jazz who got to grow up? Still be his sister? It would be stupid to hope so, right?

He feels bitter.

She said she’s considering Gotham University as her college of choice as she nears high school graduation. Apparently, their psych department is amazing. 

So maybe hope isn’t so bad. 

Dan sits down at his 10:00 am Habitudes class. Everyone already in the room stares at him. Before they can offer any congrats or thanks or swarm him, Jay sits down next to him. 

Dan looks at Jay’s mostly black hair and his tuft of white at his front bangs. He’s wearing his usual Gotham U hoodie, a hoodie that likely hides muscled arms. A chill builds in his lungs like it did when speaking with Red Hood, like it has every other time he’s talked with Jay Peters. 

…Hm. A hoodie that definitely hides muscled arms. 

“Hey,” says Jay with a grin. “Crazy week, I hear?”

“You’re a Gothamite. I’m sure you’re aware of exactly how crazy it’s been.” 

“You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure. After class? We can grab an early lunch. Make it a date, maybe.”

Jay smiles, cute and small. His eyes flash green—a baby Death-touched soul, still can’t control his spooky abilities, how adorable—and he says, “That sounds perfect.”

[juanarc-thethird]

Can you do the "He has risen baby girl" scene as well? Maybe it is Jacques who pretends to be sad about what happened to Jaune and Nora.

Continuation of "That" scene from DeadPool & Wolverine

Very small spoilers

The moment Nora and Jaune joined hands to overload the machine, it exploded with the two of them in the middle. Ruby and Ren were knocked back by the blast wave. When they came to, seconds later, they saw that where their friends were standing was completely destroyed.

Ren: Did they...

Ruby: Come on Ren, get up and help me find them!

Ren: Yes!

Just as they stand up to start looking for them, some guards from the Schnee company grabbed them.

Ren: Huh?!

Ruby: Hey! Let me go!

They are taken upstairs where Weiss and the rest of his friends are, all immobilized. Weiss is tied to a chair, Blake is handcuffed, and Yang is tied in chains.

Ruby: Girls, are you okay?!

Blake: We are, but we have bigger problems.

At that moment Jacques Schnee appears, looking at all the destruction his machine caused.

Jacques: Look what you did to my machine. My poor, poor machine. You kids will pay for this.

Ruby: What?! You're the one responsible for all this in the first place!

Ren: When Ironwood finds out about this he'll put you behind bars!

Yang: And we all know your hair is just a wig!

Jacques: *red* What did you say! You little-

Weiss: What was that?

Yang: Sorry, I'm still a little angry.

Jacques: It doesn't matter, no one will know about this.

Ironwood: Nobody will know about what, exactly?

Jacques is startled when he hears his voice and turns to look at the general.

Jacques: James?! What are you doing here?

Ironwood: We noticed a power anomaly in this area and came to investigate. Are you responsible for this?!

Jacques: *Nervous* A-Am I responsible for this?! Well, in stopping the machine, yes!

Ruby: He is ly-Hmmm!!

One of the guards covered Ruby's mouth before she could say anything. The others did the same with her friends to prevent any trouble.

Jacques: *Fake crying* Two brave heroes, a young men and a young woman with promising futures, gave their lives for us. I looked upon them as my own children. But that doesn't matter anymore. There is nothing in this world that I can do or that anyone can do to bring them back...

Nora: He has risen baby girl!

Jacques: *Angry* FUCK!

"Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, starts playing in the background for some reason.

Everyone turns to where Nora's voice was heard and sees her and Jaune appear safe and sound. Sparks from the rubble fall on the two of them as they walk towards the group. Nora's suit was somewhat burned while Jaune was sweaty, showing off his shiny muscles as sparks from the rubble bounce off of the two of them.

Nora: *Smiling* We found the off switch

Jaune: *Angry* And we're doing just fine, you piece of shit.

Blake/Yang/Ruby: 👀 👀 👀*Looking at Jaune's abs... respectfully... Ish*

Weiss: *Aslo looking with fuck me eyes* Fine indeed~💕

Nora: All right... *takes a jacket and gives it to Jaune* Put your greasy tits away you preening slut.

[kindaasrikal]

Exploring the stupidity of the fact that Morro and Garmadon are stuck in the departed realm together, part 2:

Part 1 - Part 3

Garmadon: Alright Morro, let’s at least try and get to know each other.

Morro: what do you not get, Garmadon? I don’t WANT to know anything about you, or your pathetic life.

Garmadon: Well, if only you had a choice in the matter.

Morro: *tied to a tree after coming across a wild Garmageddon*…i demand a rematch.

Garmadon: Sure!

Morro:…really?-

Garmadon: After we get to know each other, of course!

Morro: i demand freedom.

Garmadon: Uhuh. *pulls out a stack of papers* By any chance, have you ever heard of 21 questions? It’s quite an entertaining game Lloyd introduced to me. *he says with a nostalgic smile*

Morro: yeah, that brat tried playing it with me when i took away his free will.

Garmadon:…You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?

Morro: no sh-mmph!

Garmadon: *covers Morro’s mouth, who is now wriggling around like a trapped chicken* Enough of that. Now let’s see…*he flicks through some of the papers* ah ha!

Garmadon: My first question, child, shall be finding out your most favourite colour!

Morro:

Garmadon:

Morro:

Garmadon:…I see that was a foolish question to ask, so let us move to a different one-

Morro: ifti pifksbsv

Garmadon: What?

Morro: *glares at Garmadon*

Garmadon: Ah, right. *removes his hand* what is it that you said?

Morro: it’s pink.

Garmadon: Huh.

Morro: pink. Thats my favourite colour.

Garmadon:

Garmadon: Hm

Morro: shut up.

Garmadon: I didn’t say a word.

Morro: i can see your face, you old fart.

Garmadon: Well, is it my fault green seemed more likelier than pink?

Morro: don’t ever say i like green. That colour disgusts me.

Garmadon:…Is it because-

Morro: your son’s eyes only made the disgust worse, not create it.

Garmadon: Aren’t you a sweet one, child.

Garmadon: Morro.

Morro:

Garmadon: Morro?

Morro:

Garmadon: Morro, now is not the time to ignore me.

Morro:

Garmadon: Are you really going to act so childish, simply because I had made you call me uncle once?

Morro:

Garmadon: Child.

Morro:

Garmadon: Nephew.

Morro: *a slight twitch has occurred.*

Garmadon:…..

Morro:…….

Garmadon:…..

Morro:…….

Garmadon: Morro Wu, stop ignoring me this insta-

Garmadon:

Garmadon: Now, I highly doubt throwing the top of a mountain at me will help.

Morro: you know, i always wanted to ask you or Sensei this.

Garmadon: *sitting in a meditative position* Hm?

Morro: why’d the First spinjitzu master name you Garmadon Garmadon?

Garmadon:…My meditation can wait, excuse me???

Morro: i mean, seriously, Garmadon Garmadon sounds ridiculous. No wonder you turned evil, i would too if i was given such a dumb name. Not to mention, where the heck did he even get the name Garmadon from? Like, i understand Wu, that one makes sense, but Garmadon? It sounds like the name of some weird species of animals thats only just been discovered or something.

Garmadon: Pot, meet kettle.

Morro: what

Garmadon: Nothing. Now, why exactly do you think my name is Garmadon Garmadon?

Morro: uh, your son? His last name is Garmadon?

Garmadon: Do you mean Lloyd?

Morro: what, do you have a secret son hidden away or something?? Yes, the Green Ninja!

Garmadon:….Child, why exactly do you think I call you Morro Wu, instead of Morro Garmadon?

Morro: cause your name’s ugly?

Garmadon: You really are your father’s son.

Morro: wu is nOT MY FATHER-

Morro: why are you so old.

Garmadon: What-

Morro: but not bald?

Garmadon: *baffled* Just because I am old, does not mean I would go bald, Morro.

Morro: but…

Garmadon: Hm?

Morro: Wu is bald, and he’s younger then you, why do you have hair???

Garmadon:

Morro:

Morro: Oh my GOD. YOU WEAR A WIG???

Garmadon: NO I DO NOT STOP SCREAMING-

Yeah thats all i got, rlly long ones that im not even sure are good but i find them funny and i have school work so maybe thats effecting my humour atm :(

Anyways i love the Morro and Garmadon duo and if you havent heard in my last few posts i gave them a duo name. Heres more of the Tempest duo!

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Reworking my White Knight design. Notes under the cut as per usual

There are three primary inspirations that I'm working off of:

The Three Muskateers

Knight's Armor

Masquerade Costumes

I've been trying to think about it from two practical perspectives, Darling's, and my own.

For Darling she needs to be able to suit up fairly quickly, and have enough coverage to completely hide her identity. It also can't be too heavy or she risks slowing herself down.

And then for me I just don't want to draw overly complicated armor every time I draw her in action. So she needs to be at least somewhat recognizable as a knight without the design getting overly busy. I also think it's very boring to have this wonderlandian vigilante just be a normal knight.

So here's some stuff about all that!

Her outfit starts with a base layer (shirt, trousers, ect.) then she adds padding, and pieces of leather armor on her arms and legs. Then over that she adds a very light flowy tunic to disguise some of that protection (it's good to keep your enemies guessing, and it provides a nice non-threatening appearance for the people you're trying to help. Princess lessons can be very helpful when it comes to public reputation.) Then she has plate armor on her chest, as well as greaves and boots. It's all very pieced together out of stuff she's scavenged from around wonderland and in abandoned lockers. None of it is made to go together.

The belt doesn't have a scabbard, she keeps her sword across her back, but it does have lots of loops for carrying extra stuff that Darling wants to have on hand. When she finds various foods and potions and other weird little tools in wonderland she can tie them to her belt for easy access during emergencies.

The hair is a whole separate ordeal. First she puts it under a head covering that kind of serves as a bald cap (but also hides her very recognizable hair even if the hat and wig come off). Then she puts the wig on top, and puts on the porcelain mask. The mask is well-fitted, enchanted to disguise her voice, and can be tied at the back under the wig. And after all that she puts on a very fetching hat. There's no real purpose to it, she just thinks it looks cool

Add cape for extra heroic effect! Now you can channel all your repressed rage into your alternate identity while hitting things with swords and providing aid to the masses

[rowretro]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

(picture found on tumblr)

✧Warnings: Violence, detailed ghost and gore, blood, a horror themed yandere story, dead bodies, possibly creepy dolls?, mafia demon Won (coz he has a gun in the pic, and I need him to be a demon in this story)

✧Synopsis: Y/n never found herself having to hide in her sweet penthouse, her $500 bottle of red wine spilled out of her crystal wine glass, the stunning door many envied, bloodied and broken. She found herself running, running into danger yet again... and the police were on a search for her, as she's now a missing person case. But Jungwon was on a hunt for her, making sure his darling is safe at all costs.

✧✭☆✧✭☆✧✭☆✧✭☆✭✧☆✭✧☆✭✧☆✭✧

Y/n's blood ran cold. one last audio recording of her discoveries on day 7 of surviving. Surviving what you ask? she doesn't even know what to call it. It's eyes blank white, blood surrounding it's pearly eyeballs, running down it's cracked porcelain skin, dried out, it's long hair, everywhere it trails. She learnt not to touch it or it'll immediately sense she's there. It couldn't see her, but it could hear her. it could hear how her blood pumped through her body, her somewhat heavy breathing but it never knew where she hid. She was in an abandoned school.... a University known for it's paranormal sightings. She'd ran into many bodies, of those who tried to escape, some were streamers, reporters who willingly walked into the death department, others seemed like students who tried to escape.

Yet somehow she managed to find out how to kill it... the monster. Finding random letters a woman named Angela Xiao wrote till her death. Y/n examined how the monster's nails went from plain dead, to growing, blinding white nails. The day time was when it was most safe, it never came out in the late, but y/n remained wary. But now it's winter. The nights longer than days, darkness lasting long. She couldn't remember the last time she slept soundly with her only worry being waking up late when she has a morning lecture.

She figured the monster wrote those letters, it was once a woman, forced into an abusive marriage with a man that hurt her always, until he had it, ripping out her ligaments whilst she was still alive, as the woman screamed bloody murder, according to the random news letters in the cold dead hands in some reporters. There was some talks of a kid's ghost that lurked the hallways too. Her heart ached for this woman, but she had to get rid of this.... cursed being. perhaps perform an exorcism?...

She found a lighter, checking if it'd still blaze up, unaware of her surroundings, when a sudden, gut wrenching, ear-piercing scream shook her. There it was, the monster. Not expecting anything to happen but at least slow the thing down, she set it on fire, running off and hiding. but it kept screaming in agony, its body burning up, as it disappeared to ashes.... Y/n's eyes grew wide as she saw a much prettier woman in the form of a ghost, staring around at the bloodied mess, looking quite hurt... It saw y/n, and left behind a key....

It was the key to get out of this place physically. Hopeful yet extremely cautious, she picked up the key. The sound of clinking, echoed the empty hallways, not too far. That can't be right... she hid in the closet, watching as the shadow grew bigger. Her heart dropped at the sight. another one? she wondered as she saw the porcelain mannequin, walking robotically, its hair looking like an elegant wig a woman's love to wear, a red bow tied around it. the strappy red dress looked like a dress she had worn to a friend's frat party.

Those red glass heels looked as fragile as it's ceramic, glossy skin. "I know you're in here human... I can smell your yummy blood... oh don't be shy come out! it'll only hurt a little... I just wanna tear you open and eat your insides whilst u scream in pain!" it said with an eerily sweet voice. She calmed her breath, hiding well, she saw its face. pupils black, lashes drawn on, like a man had made himself a pretty wife in the 1950's, except it looked creepy, sure it possessed the beauty standards one'd expect in a woman, that were so unrealistic. but it's mouth area was broken off, and it's bloodied teeth, with some skin evident in between.

"Come out dear girl... I can see your dark hair.... what such pretty skin you have there......" she commented as Y/n swallowed hard. "THERE YOU ARE!" it screamed as y/n felt herself giving up, reaching for the blade to end her sorrows so she wont face the pain. as it's cold hands grabbed her shoulders, and opened its jaw revealing many rows of bloodied, long sharp teeth, y/n couldn't help but scream. Yet it dropped dead. glass shattering, soul arising from the shatterred, creepy mess off porcelain and disappearing. Y/n breathed heavily, as she finally cried.

"Fuck it's ok, its ok.... I'm here y/n...." a familliar voice said, Jungwon, the sweet boy in her class, the man she had a crush on.... but... he looked different. Gun in hand, black, featherred wings that had sprouted out his back. She backed away, repeating the word no, scared he's just an illusion. "shh shh.... I promise it is me.... I've been looking for you everywhere.... I didn't know that the curses still lived on earth- but trust me, you're safe with me.... look me in the eyes sweetheart." he said as y/n did so. and she immediately felt his sincerity.

As the police bought her story, and discovered the many dead bodies, they pinned their target, the man who started the curse of course, The man who had killed his wife and child. To the police however, he was a psychotic serial killer who killed every one there brutally and had gotten away with it for dozens of years. Y/n was in Jungwon's home, getting a little used to his demon abilities, and his dear friend Jay who casually sipped out of a blood bag before her. Jungwon could feel she was scared.... god it hurt him that she was so shaken up, in such a condition for about a week.

But he loved it, he loves how she grew so dependant on him... How she dragged him with her everywhere, how he helped her shower, delicately scrubbing the soap on her soft skin, wary of the wounds and cuts. He's loving how she's currently snuggling into his embrace, dressed in one of her short yet comfortable nightgowns, needy for his reassurance. See if something like this never happened, he couldn't have gotten her attention..... The haunting was all that was needed to get her to love him... And he will make sure she'll forever love him. She has no choice, only he can protect her, and only he can love her....

✧✭☆✧✭☆✧✭☆✧✭☆✭✧☆✭✧☆✭✧☆✭✧

A/n: I'm gonna have nightmares for picturing this- but I hope u enjoyed, comment how u feel, and if u want me to make it up to you w a fluff- or maybe smut idk yet(shoot me w some requests, ill try)

[spellboundwigs]

Taylor • 100% Hand Tied - Lux Collection by Belle Tress (Available for Pre-Order)

Introducing Taylor from the Lux Collection by Belle Tress—a masterpiece of craftsmanship, 100% hand-tied for unparalleled comfort and natural movement. Available for pre-order at Spellbound Wigs, Taylor brings luxury and style together in a wig that's as unique as you are.

[oneforthemunny]

I'd imagine that every time Halloween rolls around, Rockstar!Eddie and Nepo Baby are on the cover of at least one magazine with a spooky Halloween photoshoot. I'm seeing a werewolf eating (out) a fair maiden. Or a pregnant Nepo Baby tied to a table and a Rockstar!Eddie getting ready to sacrifice her. Or them recreating a scene from the biggest horror movie of the year.

Only over the years, as the kids accumulate, it goes from Playboy to Parade. And instead of tits with fang punctures, you've got a line of tots in skeleton pajamas.

(This was originally meant to be a blurb prompt and I got carried away so now I think it's more just a Spooky Thought I had to share with you. Whatever, Happy First Day of Fall! 😂)

oneforthemunny's spooky stories: rockstar!eddie x reader's time warp

or how halloween looks through the years for rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader :) ps pics below are for inspo that i used not specific more of just how the photos looked or what the idea was based off of!

October 31st, 1992

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, dimples and shining eyes when they rolled over your frame. “My bride.” 

That you were, both in and out of costume. It was the only recognizable part of yourself right now, your engagement ring. Your skin had been tinged a pale green, the SFX artist made your ‘gashes’ and ‘stitches’ look far too real for your liking. Tonight, you were the bride of Frankenstein, instead of Munson. 

“Look at you.” You pouted, eyes rolling over his costume. Not Frankenstein, but… a vampire? “What-What are you wearing?” You huff, throwing an arm out at his costume. “We’re supposed to be Frankenstein and-” 

“-Technically, it’s Frankenstein’s monster.” Eddie grinned, fake fangs making his smile more sinister looking. “I had a last minute change. Dracula and Bride of Frankenstein together? That’s scandalous. So much better, baby, believe me. No one’s done this before.” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting the torn white dress to cover yourself. “When did you change your mind? While I was in makeup for six hours?” 

Eddie laughed, hands running down your skin. “I like your hair.” He muttered. “Think you should do this more often. Pretty metal look for you, baby.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, running a hand lightly over the electrified updo. “Too bad it’s a wig. Maybe I’ll keep it. Put it in the dungeon for you, when you want to get really weird and freaky.” 

“I always wanna get really weird and freaky with you.” Eddie growled, a low rasp in his tone that had your knees shaking. His lips ducked down towards yours, the fake blood around his mouth making your stomach turn. 

“No,” You shake your head. “Get these pictures first, then you can kiss me. I’m not sitting in makeup again, Munson, my ass was falling asleep. I was sitting there for so long.” 

“I can help you with that.” Eddie growled, a playful smack to your barely covered backside that had you shrilling, glaring at him through white contacts. 

October 31st, 1993

“You can barely even see the bump.” You huff, cradling your bare stomach in the mirror. “It just looks like I’m bloated.” 

“You’re out of your mind.” Eddie shook his head, inked hands cradling your torso. “You look so pretty.” 

Your lips settle in a pout, turning to the side, pushing your stomach out further in the pink, frilly lingerie from the 60’s. The sheer robe tied at your collarbones, flowing over your frame beautifully, parting so your belly could poke out. It wasn’t the pregnancy announcement you expected to have, but a fun one, regardless. One that would leave a shocking impression when it was sent to the press. 

Eddie’s ‘costume’ hung around his waist, arms crossed over his bare, tattooed chest. You grinned at the green, scaly suit- designed to subtly resemble Creature From The Black Lagoon’s monster. 

You smirked to yourself, looking at Eddie through the mirror. “My parents are going to hate this.” You grin, nearly proud. It made Eddie’s heart skip. 

“Good.” Eddie snorted with an eye roll. “Not their baby. Not their choice.” He shrugged, hands roaming protectively over your soft, stretched skin. “Victor shouldn’t hate it too much, right? It’s a movie reference, at least.” 

You laughed lightly. “True, and I’m… more covered than last time, right?” You grin, smoothing your hand over your exposed skin. 

“Definitely, much more reserved than last time.” Eddie grinned, chin hooking over your shoulder. “We have to be more appropriate, Button, now that we’re going to be parents.” Eddie mocked your father’s posh, droning tone, quoting what Victor nagged about over the last brunch you had together- a month ago when you told them you were expecting. 

Eddie’s lips pursed at the pinch still unfaltering in your brows, hands still smoothing over your belly. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie rasped, hand cradling your jaw gently, pulling your eyes to meet his. Those soft eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time you found yourself in their gaze. 

“Fuck ‘em, alright? This isn’t their baby, it’s our baby.” Eddie muttered. “You wanna do this? We don’t have to. I’ll tell them all to go fuck off if you want me to. Or we can do something different. Do the Mummy things if you want to. Just say the word. Your call-” 

“Ed.” The smile he’d been looking for graced your face finally. “I still want to do the photos. I’m just… I’m having a moment. I’m hormonal, and-and I’m just having a moment.” 

Eddie grinned, plush lips pressing a kiss to your nose. “Have a moment. You look hot, though.” 

“Thanks.” You muttered, eyes fluttering to look up at him through the strip of false lashes. “Not bloated?” 

Eddie snorted. “Definitely not. Very pregnant. Very, very hot.” 

October 31st, 1994 

“Ed, is she looking?” You say through a smile, eyes still trained on the camera. 

“No, she keeps looking at you.” Eddie huffed, lowering the camera. “Looking at your webs.” 

No crew this time, oh no, Eddie wanted to do it all on his own. The set up wasn’t elaborate, but your costume was. The Black Widow, finished with webs that attached to your dress, hung around you for the perfect dramatic effect Eddie was looking for. In your arms, your little itsy bitsy spider, Persephone. 

“Sephy,” Eddie cooed. “Fuck, babe, where’s the rattle thing? The lamb?” 

“I grabbed it. Look behind you.” You nodded, cradling Persephone closely, her little hands reaching for you and pulling the fake spider arms with her. “You’re just a pretty little spider, aren’t you? The cutest little spider!” 

“Found it!” The camera bounced on Eddie’s chest, shooting you a dimpled grin that had you flushing. “Look at me, Sephy! Look at Daddy!” 

You fixed her in your arms, cradling her to your side. “Is she looking?” 

“Yes, she is!” Eddie lilted in that babbling baby talk that had your heart swelling. “Look at my little spider. That’s so good, look at Daddy!” 

“You sure you don’t want to be in this one?” You asked, hoisting Sephy up higher into your arms, swaying her lightly. 

“Nah,” Eddie shook his head, looking down at the camera, pulling out the film. “Just wanna look at you, baby.” He winked. 

October 31st, 1999

“Kensie,” You coo, looking down at the red faced four year old, desperately trying to keep her from tearing off her ears, two fuzzy clips that mimicked a cute werewolf. “We just need to take a couple of photos, and then we can change and go Trick-or-Treating, I promise.” 

“I wanna go no-o-ow!” Kensie wailed, a piercing sob that had you cringing, the twins stirring in their black bassinet prop. 

“Kensington,” Eddie grit, adjusting Persephone’s cape. “Trick-or-Treating hasn’t even started. There’s nothing out there right now. No candy.” 

You glared at him lightly, though Kensie’s sniffles did ease. “No?” She asked, head tilting to the side sweetly. 

Eddie shook his head, green painted frown softening lightly. “No, baby. Doesn’t start until six. We have plenty of time.” 

“Better quit frowning, baby.” You hum, tapping your finger on Eddie’s creasing forehead paint. 

This year's theme was a take on the classic, creepy show from the 60’s. What better way to celebrate your still growing family than this? Everyone else was favoring the Addams Family this year, but not the Munson’s- Munster’s. 

“Are you ready, Mrs. Munson?” Phil asked, looking up from his camera at you. 

You nodded, fixing your dress while you stood next to Eddie, one hand on the bassinet. “You think they can tell?” You grit through your smile, your dress snug when you turn towards him. 

“No.” Eddie gritted back, eyes flickering down to your abdomen, just starting to swell with baby number five. “You look good, baby, always do.”

[elizais]

the love languages with osamu dazai

quality time

osamu always wanted to be around you, a balm to his cracked soul, it was his favourite place to be. it was like he was a field of flowers and you were the sunlight that he desperately craved. he loved going to random shops around yokohama on your breaks, striking poses with the cheap wigs and accessories.. or sitting at a small cafe talking about anything and everything. living together, working together, doing everything together never seemed to add up to your undivided attention on him.

words of affirmation

whilst he would tease you profusely, rare moments of notes left on each other's bedside tables with an "i love you more than you know" were eternally cherished. having moments of genuine adoration spoken through words healed more wounds than stitches ever could. immortal whispers lingered in your ear after a job well done, "i'm so proud of you, that was a tricky one." or dedicated songs to them that played in the car so you could analyse the lyrics for them all to wittle down to an "i love you"

physical touch

it is no secret osamu loves to have some connection with you at all times, feeling emotionally and physically close went hand in hand. laying on the couch together with your heads on opposite sides to mindlessly play footsies as you watched tv.. a birds nest of entangled limbs that you had to decipher what belonged to who when you wake up in the morning.. knees touching underneath tables.. any touch was every touch.

gift giving

gift giving is not the most expensive thing being handed to you, but rather.. a selfless "i saw this and thought of you" tacky keychain to add to your keys.. an "i saw you looking at that nice pen set, i picked it up for you.".. or, "i saw a new bandages brand that claims to be softer, here." it is truly the thought that ties the love into a bow around the packaging.

acts of service

it's the subtle things, stopping you as you walk to tie your shoelace for you.. choosing your favourite spoon for you to eat your dinner with.. starting the car before they get in so they don't have to sit in the cold.. subconsciously toasting an extra piece of bread alongside his for you.. it's the mindless things that can only be explained as "just because it helps you out."

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Pleasures of The Unknown | Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka Experience 2024)

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

When Kate Middleton mistakenly ends up at a magical chocolate factory in Glasgow, she finds herself drawn to a mysterious cloaked figure with a penchant for dark chocolate.

pairing: Kate Middleton x The Unknown (Glasgow Wonka 2024)

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.2k

tags: crack, crack treated seriously, crack fic, smut, mild smut, finger sucking, chocolate, sex and chocolate, light BDSM, choking, thigh riding, rpf, bald harry styles, balddry, infidelity, glasgow, willy wonka experience - freeform, glasgow willy wonka - freeform, Balmoral, british royal family, unhinged innuendo

chapter warnings: smut, infidelity

Kate Middleton stared at her bangs in the Buckingham Palace bathroom mirror.

"I can't go out like this," she complained to William. "The Sun will rip me a new one!"

"Kate, my dear," he kissed her on the cheek, turning to lean against the counter. She continued tugging at her botched fringe until he took her hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back."

"That's rich, coming from you."

William looked down at his royal bunny slippers with a frown. Even they had more hair than he did. Perhaps he should have them fashioned into a wig. He'd have to ask his frenemy, Harry Styles, for wigmaker recommendations.

"I don't know what to do." Kate looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes. He wiped them away with his royal hanky.

"I do," he smiled. Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he produced the royal AmEx.

"Take a holiday, Kate. Go to Balmoral or Hollyrood for a few weeks. Grow them out. Maybe even get that BBL you've been talking about getting. Scotland is a great place to recover from surgery. What with all the free healthcare and all, innit?" he said Britishly.

"You're so right, William. I'll leave first thing tomorrow."

---

Kate double-checked the address her husband had given her as she stepped out of her royal Uber Black.

"This can't be the right place. Balmoral was never this colorful!"

The cabbie rolled down his window. "Don't worry, ma'am, this is Willy's place! Be quick and get inside, it's looking like rain."

With a soft 'innit', the driver pulled away, and Kate was left on Willy's doorstep.

She assumed 'Willy' was short for her husband 'William', but as she entered the foyer, she began to have her doubts. The place appeared to be some sort of magical chocolate factory.

Although sparsely decorated, the place maintained some air of whimsy. Well, less of an air, more of a spritz, but clamato, clamato.

"Soo la voo," Kate shrugged, walking beneath the sparkly, styrofoam rainbow and towards whatever fate awaited her here.

"Ahh, more guests! Welcome!" A depressed-looking woman in a green wig approached her.

"Here, compliments of Willy," she said, sliding a plastic cup containing a splash of what appeared to be sparkling lemonade into Kate's left hand. Into her right went a single jelly bean.

"What is this?" Kate asked.

"Our welcome gift to you! And only $40, such a deal."

Kate supposed $40 was a fair price for such splendor. After all, if bananas were $10, this was surely worth four times that. She popped the jelly bean and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Carry on down the hallway. Your future awaits."

Kate left her luggage and her empty cup with the so-called Oompa Loompa and proceeded down the bare linoleum hallway. That uncanny-valley candy landscape tapestry really ties the place together, she mused.

A voice greeted her at the end of the hall.

"What. Is. That?" A blonde man in a red top hat and coattails pointed towards an unassuming mirror.

Why, that's me! Kate Middleton! Kate Middleton thought to herself.

Kate nearly leaped out of her skin when the creature emerged from behind the looking glass.

"It's...THE UNKNOWN!!"

That's when Kate fainted.

When she awoke, her head was spinning. "Where am I?" She asked to the blackness that surrounded her.

A deep voice answered her. "You're in the walls. This is my home. My own dark chocolate factory."

"Your what?" Kate asked.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was in a small bedroom combined with a confectionary workspace, almost a studio apartment of sorts.

"My dark chocolate factory. You see, Willy Wonka seeks only to pump this world full of river-churned, high-fructose, milky delicious bullshit. What I aim to create is something far more sophisticated. Far more complex. And far, far darker."

"Oh? Might I try some?"

"Why of course," the silver-masked, black-hooded creature pulled back its sleeve to reveal long, nimble fingers.

He crossed to his chocolate worktable and dipped his index and middle fingers into a whirring chocolate fountain. The creature stalked towards her, extending the sample.

Kate leaned towards him, but froze. "Before I suck on your fingers, I should probably know your name."

The creature angled his head, as if considering her. "I have no name. I am only...The Unknown."

Kate's heart raced in her chest. That chocolate, those fingers, it all looked simply divine. And if William could be unfaithful, why couldn't she do the same? She deserved it, just this once. As a treat.

She opened her mouth, and The Unknown slid his fingers past her lips. She sucked deeply, the flavor sliding across her tongue and down her throat, the complex flavor and intensity of the delivery method sending shivers down her spine.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"A bit," Kate admitted.

"Well then," she could hear the smirk in his voice even if she couldn't see it on his face. "Perhaps I'll have to warm you up myself."

Kate bit her lip. "Would you...put your willy? In my chocolate factory?"

His fingers closed around her throat. She drew a sharp breath.

She could feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Forget willies. Forget chocolate factories. Allow yourself to submit, to embrace the pleasures of The Unknown."

Kate let out a shuddering breath as she gazed up at that shiny mask. She didn't know what lurked behind it. She didn't care.

She kissed him then, the plastic of his mask hard against her soft lips. And then she was sprawled on the bed, his knee between her legs, and she was grinding against him.

"Oh, The Unknown!" She moaned.

"Please, there's no need for formality. Call me The."

So Kate did. She sounded like the gilded first word of a sponge's term paper as she wailed his name over and over again, into the dark stillness of this secret room behind the walls.

"I'm close," Kate moaned.

"Good girl."

He leaned down to kiss at her neck. The rough edges of the cheap mask scratched at her sensitive skin, but she didn't care. She was lost in the pleasures of The Unknown.

It was the hair that brought her to the edge, something her husband could never give her. The chemical scent of his cheap, black wig filled her nostrils as she rode his thigh, dangling there on the precipice.

"Ohh!" Kate screamed as she came, her thighs shaking with pleasure as she clenched around nothing.

A low, satisfied chuckle rumbled at her throat, and she swooned. After all these years of marriage, William had never rocked her world like this masked stranger just had. As they lay there together, she slipped into the chocolatey darkness of slumber, utterly content.

---

When Kate returned home, butt bigger and bangs longer, William had wanted to hear about her experience in Scotland.

"What was your favorite part?" He asked.

"I learned a lot about myself on this trip," she told him. "But the most valuable lesson was in learning to embrace the pleasures of the unknown."

"See, a little uncertainty is good sometimes!" He teased, tugging on her much-improved bangs before giving her a soft kiss.

"Mm," he smacked his lips. "Tastes like chocolate."

[ddejavvu]

So I had long hair for the last two year and recently cut it too a 90s lob type thing and I was wondering if you could write one were Jake and reader have eniemes type shit and of course reader has long hair and one day Jake comes to the bar and sees this back of this girl he knows is beautiful she has short hair and he walks up too you and start to filrt with you and you turn around he just star struck on how beautiful you look

If there's one thing you can be sure Jake Seresin will tease you about, it's your hair. You've had it long for years now, and he won't let anyone forget that he was the one to give you your, quite frankly infuriating, callsign; Rapunzel.

Living in close contact with Hangman had meant that a lot of your hair wound up all over his things, stuck to his shirt, woven into his socks after a wash, somehow lining the inside of his own helmet. So he'd donned you Rapunzel as a tease, and it had stuck, much to your dismay.

Now, though, you know you'll never escape the name even though you've chopped off the hair. It had simply been a pain serving with long hair, you'd had trouble tucking it into your helmet every day and the regulation buns never stayed in tact for an entire day. So off the hair went, onto the floor of a salon and swept away into the garbage.

Good Riddance.

"You want a new drink for your new look?" Penny grins, leaning against the bar to stare you down. You won't lie, you see exactly why Maverick is so enamored by her.

"No, thanks. Just the usual," You tuck a stray, very short strand of hair behind your ears, marveling at the feeling of the ends tickling your jaw. It's going to take some getting used to, at the very least.

"Anyone know yet?" She hands you your usual order, and you sip it while shaking your head.

"Nah. Not unless you count the Admiral, I had to stop by his office today."

"Well, it looks adorable. I'm sure they'll all like it." She smiles, patting you on the shoulder as someone calls for her from behind. She leaves you to go attend to them, and you check your phone absentmindedly, careful to keep it off of the bar.

Perhaps if you'd been paying closer attention to your surroundings, you would have registered the heavy steps of Hangman's boots that you hear all day. He stomps around like an elephant, but you don't hear him approach you from behind until he's speaking.

"Well, you must be a new face around here. I'd remember such gorgeous hair."

He's behind you, and your spine stiffens at his voice. His familiar drawl ties your stomach into knots, and you don't know how to stop him before he's doubling down.

"Now, look at that! Your face is just as- ah!" He stops dead in his tracks, eyes switching from sleazy to stunned in a split second when he finally gets a glimpse of you.

"Oh, Hangman," You grumble, "Can't you flirt with someone else?"

"You're- What happened to- I didn't know it was you!" He insists, "I- you cut your hair? Like- like all of it? Just- gone?"

"No," You antagonize him, "It's in my pockets. Yes it's gone, idiot!"

His eyes widen slightly at your admission, like he'd truly believed you'd just put on a wig for the night. But he makes no move to leave, a deep breath slowly fanning out from his nose.

For the first time in your life, you're seeing Hangman speechless. He's staring at you, almost studying you in the way that his wide eyes rake over your features. You're suddenly freaked by the prolonged attention he's never given you before, and you squirm in place.

"Go find someone else to schmooze." You wave a dismissive hand at him, and it seems to break his trance. He still doesn't jump at the opportunity to prowl the bar some more; instead he jumps at the seat beside you.

"I'm alright. 'Think I'll sit tonight out." He informs you, grunting as he settles on the barstool. He pats a quick hand on the par, "Penny, anyone paying the tab tonight?"

"Not unless Y/N puts her phone on the bar," Penny eyes your device with narrowed eyes, and you stuff it into your pocket quickly.

"Damn. Tough luck," He side-eyes you with a grin, "Just a beer, then, please."

No matter how unbearably cocky he is, he's always polite to Penny, and you're sure she appreciates it. That's why she doesn't gripe at his failed flirting attempt with you, merely sending you a knowing glance as she hands him the bottle. What she knows, you're afraid to find out.

"So, just felt like having a lighter cut?" Hangman hums, adam's apple bobbing as he takes a swig of beer.

"Yeah. Tired of stuffing it into my helmet, or having to fix it during an exercise." You shrug, "I'll get used to it."

"I could, too. Looks real nice, honey." He winks, hiding his smirk with another sip of booze. You turn away, schooling your lips into a neutral expression.

"Seems like I should come up with a new name for you, now that you can't really let down your hair." Jake muses, reaching up to tug at a strand by your ear. You swat him away, muscling a grin off of your lips.

"Bob's taken," You snap, "You've done enough, 'already hate Rapunzel as it is."

"Oh, bitch all you want," Jake scoffs, nudging you with his shoulder that you wish were less broad so that you didn't have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop your mouth from falling open, "I know you like it when I call you a princess."