#tap and dye

[jaygaeze]

[sappymix1]

and if you need a light i'll be the match to your candle), dnf, about 4k words, meetup fic

You’re so beautiful. George swallowed blood. I need you.

“You’re real,” he said instead. It was blunt, but he could hear his tone. It was soft, reverent, as much as it would have been if he’d let the phrase I love you slip through his lips. It wasn’t just the sun; Dream was a god with horrible posture, back arched so that he could rest his elbows on his knees and look at where George was sprawled on the floor with Patches pressed up against his belly.

- George moves to Florida.

[sixleggedleech]

"Um, excuse me, bartender? This shot tasted off, I think you overpoured one of the layers and now I'm going to-"

i drink this every night

[hearts401]

digging my nails into my leg professionalism is literally made up none of that shit has an actual basis what is this

[crmsndragonwngss]

Someone needs to fucking take my debit card away lmfao

[tasiaadams18art]

Rainbow Swirl.

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[dead-end-draws]

WOF tribe Merchant/Trading booth concepts:

Hey folks! This one was the recent winner of this WOF poll, so here’s my concept art that headcannons trading in Pyrrhia.

Read below cut for close-ups of the individual booths + the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇

Skywings: The Sky Kingdom’s mountain ranges provide plenty of pasture for raising sheep. As such, Skywing shepherds benefit from traveling to sell their wool, dyes, fabric, and woven tapestries. Many of these merchant tables also include herbs grown exclusively in the mountains, or ibex drinking horns that can be strapped on a dragon’s shoulder & carried in flight.

Along with goods, Skywing merchants may offer sewing services to fix tears, burn marks, or other fabric damage. They are sought out for their quality clothing, and most fabric across Pyrria originated from a Skywing’s talons.

Mudwings: Mudwings’ abundant food & cooking skills are envied almost anywhere in Pyrrhia. Their swamps have fertile soil, responsible for hosting diverse crops which can be purchased as produce at merchant stalls. For those lucky enough to find a traveling Mudwing merchant, the promise of a delicious dish can be whipped up and served at the stall in no time. Along with produce goods, Mudwings sell weaved baskets, spices, and cooking ware.

Sandwings: Sandwing booths offer luxuries of the desert: It’s most common to find accessories such as gold carved jewelry or musical instruments such as drums, lyres, & mandolins for sale. Though, even more sought out across Pyrrhia is Sandwing tattoos/piercings, which are done within the merchant areas. Ink etchings on papyrus paper are stationed outside their tents to showcase designs. All which can be selected, and poked into the skin with a tapping stick and plant dye ink by a trained talon.

Seawings: SeaWings sell a variety of ocean related goods; taking a share in the fish market with Icewings. Outside of food, there are den decorations like driftwood carvings, accessories such as seashell & pearl jewelry, and rope nets weaved by expert Seawing sailors. Some Seawings even sell fishing equipment, canoes, or offer sailor knot tying instructions to curious dragon buyers.

Nightwings: During the war, it was near impossible to find a Nightwing merchant. Most refused to participate in merchant territory, mostly as a way to keep up with their tribe’s mysterious nature.

Though in the more shady, unground parts of the market you can buy from a huge selection of obsidian weaponry, the sharpest in Pyrrhia. No one knew initially how Nightwings smithed so many weapons, or why, until their secret volcano kingdom and the intention to invade the rainforest was discovered. Then forging armor & weapons became clear. Along with a vast armory, for the right price, some Nightwing merchants offer Prophecies & Nightwing Literature (not always guaranteed to always be reliable) and assassin services as well (very reliable).

Rainwings: Though Rainwings haven’t been part of Pyrrhia trading for years, they have a vast hold on dragon medicine. An apothecary of herbs, salves, and remedies are all offered for various ailments due to the rainforest’s abundant resources. Along with medicinal goods, many Rainwings are fruit vendors, promising to any hesitant meat-eating dragons that such an array of flavors isn’t to be missed. Though, their fruit selling pitches often fall flat to most other predominantly meat-eating tribes.

Icewings: Icewings have everything a dragon could need to brace the cold, with a selection of goods only found in the most frigid regions of Pyrrhia. Furs, bone jewelry, and fresh fish (thanks to frost breath) are served on ice. Though Icewings themselves don’t require fur to withstand the cold, it’s considered fashionable and common in upper ranks to wear fur as a status symbol. Since metal is hard to smith without fire & in cold temperatures, fur and bone are more accessible to Icewings for clothing statements.

[rinsoap]

no thoughts, just alt bfs <33 he lets you dye his hair every other month, looking forward to sitting on the tiled bathroom floor between your legs while you perch on the rim of the bathtub, painting over his overgrown buzzcut. he likes to give your knees little kisses as his foot taps to some system of a down song you hum along to.

he'll happily accept your offer to do his makeup after you finish yours. you drag pencil eyeliner across his lids and corners of his eyes, smearing it in lazily until it's grey to add an even more tired appearance to his face. you finish off his quick look with a kiss to his cheekbone that leaves a dark lipstick print where your lips were.

before he goes out, he always makes sure to be wearing a piece of jewelry you've gifted him; chrome rings, matching red pendants, a little sword earring. he loves being asked where he got his jewelry because then he gets to mention you! "oh this? my beautiful girlfriend got them for me, thank you for asking."

he does not take his playlists seriously at all. he just shuffles his liked songs and calls it a day. he's got one playlist though, and its dedicated to makeouts with you. and he takes that very seriously. he loves pulling you on top of him from laying beside him. he likes to have you on top of him, thighs squeezing against his hips as you straddle him. you lean down to press your lips on his, holding his face with both hands gently while the playlist blasts over the sounds of your kisses. it always starts out gentle, polite even, but as soon as the playlists shuffles to she wants revenge, all niceties are thrown out the window. he pulls you close, and you follow his movement. your hands keep switching from his face, to his neck, to his chest, not knowing where to touch, but knowing you want to touch him. he mimicks similar movements, needing as much of you as he can get. he squeezes the flesh of your hips and lets his hands roam over your body, up his shirt you’re wearing to rub the skin of your waist and back. you need each other, and that's all you know.

SUNA RINTARO. miya osamu. KOZUME KENMA!!!! semi eita. tsukishima kei. kunimi akira. KYOTANI KENTOROU!

MITSUYA TAKASHI!!!!!! ken ryuguji. hakkai shiba. BAJI KEISUKE. kazutora hanemiya.

[ouchiis]

my bath bomb fucking jumpscared me

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🎱Astro Observations #2🖤

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) (Open)

���If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🎀

🖤Masterlist🖤

•Moon in Scorpio or 8th house indicates an inclination towards witchery, this individuals tends to be psychis or have a strong connection with the occult.

•Scorpio and Taurus rising are the muses, although they have different vibes, their aura are equally enchanting; they drawn people in with their energy.

•Cancer women tend to look innocent but they are the clever ones, they know how to tap into your emotions and manipulate if they want to.

•All the Venus in Scorpio with fire personal placements people that i've met don't like marriage, they see it at something unnecessary. Although water moon or suns see it differently.

•Venus in fire signs have beautiful hair, it's always an statement for them, whether they dye it or it's just naturally awesome.

•Taurus personal placements or Midheaven Taurus or Leo loves fashion, they tend to pursue carreers in which they can express they fashion sense, they like to be seen.

•Uranus 3 house tends to have a weird relation with their family, this a really exccentric placement that tends to be misunderstood a lot by their peers. It can also indicate someone that grew up in an home with a lot of rules or restrictions.

[sappymix1]

we have toosh valo time now i thinkk foosh is live !!

yeah i tapped in when i saw him go live!!! yippee :3

[wileys-russo]

Hi if its not too much trouble can we get a hc of alexia coming back from the meeting and finding pollito with only 1 eyebrow with a smug mapi with the razor

in the pollito universe with stuck, tiny silver flash, the one where the kids go bowling, in hiding barça femeni II the aftermath

"vale. now we're even nena!" mapi got up off of you, ruffling your hair and pocketing the razor as you hurried to grab out your phone, eyes widening in horror as you opened the front camera.

"you really did it! its gone!" you spoke in disbelief, finger tracing the now bare skin where your left eyebrow used to be, mapi grinning happily from the door. "sí pollito. let this be a lesson, the student will never best the master." the older girl winked, retreating quickly as you continued to sit on the floor staring at your reflection.

"lo siento pol-" the voice died off as you looked up, jana's face paling seeing the anger shine in yours, the other girls peeking around her with the same look of shock. "estás bien?" vicky asked timidly, hiding behind cata who was clearly trying to bite back a grin.

"los traidores!" you growled, hurrying to your feet and flicking your hood over your head, shoving past the group of girls and storming off toward the media room, ignoring their calls after you.

"pollito lo siento! come on amiga." jana groaned grabbing your hand when you refused to acknowledge any of them as you tugged your hand away. "you left me there. some amigas!" you huffed with a scowl, pushing open the media room door.

"all of you on time? this is a first." irene chuckled, the captains already seated as well as a few of your other teammates, the others likely still making their way over from the cafeteria.

"hey, not so fast." you tried to scurry off up the back, alexia fisting your jumper and holding you in place as your friends all took their seats sending apologetic looks which you only met with another glare.

"all on my list." you mouthed, finger pointing to them one by one as even cata's grin was wiped away at the very serious threat. "what is this i hear about dye in shampoo niña?" alexia questioned, tapping your shoulder as you turned but kept your gaze trained to the ground.

"mírame." but it didn't last long as alexia's finger found your chin and tilted your head up, her eyes widening as your hood slipped off revealing your new look.

"qué pasó!?" the older girl gasped, hands holding your face in place as a small crowd gathered and your cheeks blushed red in embarrassment, rapid spanish chattering a million questions at you which went unanswered.

but as more of the girls entered the room, looking on in slight confusion at the scene unfolding in front of them, she walked in afterwards laughing at something pina said.

"did you do this? why would you shave your eyebrow pequeña? eres estúpido?" alexia accused as you huffed and pushed her hands off, head whipping around to shoot a filthy glare at mapi which was enough of an answer without needing any words.

"maría pilar león." a few of the younger girls oohed at the full name, mapi pausing and faltering at the murderous look on her captain and close friends face. "you mutilated her!" alexia accused, hands on your shoulders and spinning you around to face the defender, pointing to your missing eyebrow.

"why is she missing an eyebrow!?" frido rushed over now, her hands turning your face side to side as you grunted and pushed them away, sick of all the attention and fussing. "ask mapi." you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest with a scowl.

"she dyed my hair purple! in case nobody noticed, pollito started it." mapi scoffed pointing to her hair which was pulled back, the once blonde strands now bring purple.

"the purple washes out! my eyebrow won't grow back for-" "three to four months." your mouth dropped open at jana's words, having googled the question out of curiosity herself.

then all hell broke loose.

"te voy a matar hijo de puta!" you roared, launching at mapi who made a strange sort of squeaking noise and tried to hide behind pina who shoved her and darted out of the way as you took her down to the floor.

all sorts of foul language dropped from your lips as you were pulled back and away from the defender, paños easily holding you back with your arms behind you as you kicked and swore and fought to be let go.

frido and ingrid instead begin to lay into mapi, chastising her in their native languages as alexia stood in between you and mapi, warning you to calm down and you'd be let go as chest heaving you fell silent, tapping paños to let her know to release you.

"if you thought the hair dye was bad...you are on my list and top of it maría. espera y verás!" you warned with a pointed finger to the older girl whose smile was all but smacked off her face, alexia shoving you and nodding for you to take your seat with an unimpressed frown.

you did so now squished in between lucy and aitana, alexia taking a seat behind you and tugging at your ear each time your gaze shifted to the tattooed defender a few rows away with a glare, returning your eyes to the media playing up front.

you'd calmed somewhat by the time the session wrapped up, lucy poking at your sides every few minutes with a wink, mumbling some sort of terrible dad joke in your ear until you cracked a genuine smile and settled, tension melting out of your shoulders.

ignoring ingrids demands to go and apologize to you mapi scurried out of the media room the moment you were all dismissed, far more scared of the way alexia's eyes narrowed in her direction the moment she glanced up toward you, her girlfriend following after her with a sigh.

"chica." you turned to look up at your friends who'd gathered in front of you, guilt present in their features as you glared up at them unimpressed.

"i think you should all shave one eyebrow too if you are really sorry." you warned, eyes narrowing as they all exchanged a look having a silent conversation. "vale, we will do it." at that your faux annoyance melted away, grin on your lips as you laughed.

"only joking." you assured, cata hitting you playfully as they sat down, all of you chattering away like normal as you waited for alexia to finish up and drive the pair of you home.

"pollito!" you looked up at the call, finding frido beckoning you over. "where are we going? i need to get my stuff!" you asked confused as the swede draped an arm over your shoulder and lead you out of the room, heading the opposite direction to the changing rooms.

"well lite kärlek if you are not going to have an eyebrow for the next few months, i am going to teach you how to draw one on."

[rottiens]

⊹ ˚. GOJŌ SATORU┊18+ , bf! gojō, somnophilia (noncon), oral ( m -> f ), canon au, female-bodied reader, petnames (angel). divider creds: cafekitsune. WC. 1.4K

Gojo promised himself not to touch you. Instead he admired you from afar, struggling with the carnal desire that asks him to slide his fingers through the nooks and crannies of your body— you, sprawled on the sheets, becoming one with the bed and your tousled hair. Carefully, he removes the glasses that were lying on the bridge of your nose, crooked and just a shake of your head threatening to break them.

The light illuminating you from a lamp on the bedside table does little to brighten the room. The opaque rays show your relaxed face sleeping pleasantly and a little further on, they show your hands resting without a defined posture at the level of your hips.

Gojo holds the book open at the edge of the bed and closes it to put it aside on the bedside table along with your glasses, without them, you look much younger even and the idea makes him smile because if you were awake you would tap his shoulder and tell him to shut up.

Still with the grin on his lips, he sits on the bed carefully avoiding waking you up, you're so comfortable that it's the last thing he would want… that's when he really intends not to wake you up, he doesn't want to interrupt your sleep, he just…. He just wants to admire you a little more.

The tank top you're wearing does little to cover you. One of your breasts escapes slightly outward giving gojo a flash of skin and your erect nipples that he can't stop staring at. He bites his lower lip, controlling his thoughts that rushed to take him to places and corners of his head that he shouldn't, thoughts that end and begin with him grabbing your tit without caution and taking it into his mouth to lick and abuse it with his teeth.

He stretched his hand towards you, your chest rises and falls placidly just like the waves, the opposite of his that heaves with each new dangerous thought his unconscious whips him with. His finger traces your collarbones in a touch that never comes, his cursed technique prevents him from touching you and he purposely keeps it active because it makes him feel less guilty. Restless, he searches for your erect nipple and makes the attempt to touch it in circles, in that instant you move seeking the comfort of the sheets which would seem a coincidence that gives him the opportunity not to continue disturbing your sleep.

"Fuck." It's the exact moment where he realizes he won't be able to keep his promise.

With one hand he squeezes the soft bulge forming a tent in his pants, with the other, he mimics the action of grabbing your breast and carving your nipple back and forth but once again, he never manages to touch you. Getting up from the bed and moving far enough away from you to admire you again, gojo removes his uniform shirt leaving it lying somewhere in the room along with the blindfold.

The yellow dye sticks to his naked torso right away, illuminating his overworked abdomen and moles that seemed to have been put there specifically.

He's late. And he is sorry. He will apologize to you tomorrow because he knows how important it is for you to spend time with him, he feels guilty for not being there on time and making you wait for him, but he feels guiltier for what he will do next.

Gojo again sits on the edge of the bed but this time he goes to your feet. His fingers spread your knees apart to make a space where his big body can fit in between. Your thighs spread to either side without effort and he takes the opportunity to make a house of your thighs and place them on top of his shoulders still with infinity in between.

Still not allowing you to feel him, gojo pushes your panties with his nose. His eyelids droop at the sensation of the heat emanating from your pussy onto his tongue, his mouth is soaked with the thought of how it will feel to finally taste you and this makes him push further into you in an invisible thrust.

His body tenses with need yet desperation, squeezing his eyes shut he sees only black and flashes like white dots, however the taste of your natural scent guides him through the gloom making it clear to him that there is nothing wrong with this, this is the right thing to do, he knows that if you would be awake you would approve. Finally and without his infinite technique getting in the way, his nose snakes between the folds of your pussy, parting your lips until his nose pushes against your clit and rubs it back and forth sniffing shamelessly.

Gojo stands still for a moment, every muscle inside him grinding with desire as he waits for you to say something, a moan, a prayer… seeing the state you're in only urges him to continue. Mouth open and hands clutching at the sheets struggling not to grab the flesh of your thighs hungrily seeking more of that which makes him moan against your panties.

His spit helps the fabric become a mess and he soon finds it annoying that he can't feel you directly, so with the help of his fingers he pushes them aside to finally taste your naked pussy.

Gojo took exactly five seconds to admire the mess he had made of you. Swollen lips dripping with excitement, a plump little clit poking just a little from between your labia and a pussy throbbing and twitching just begging him to keep going.

Along with a grunt louder than he planned he plunges into your hole parting it with his tongue until he explores deep. His tongue curves, expertly, seeking more, fucking you in and out and alternating the motion to move up to your needy clit and give it the attention it deserves by crushing it with the flat of his tongue.

You mewl with a barely audible whimper, indicating that you'll probably wake up soon. Confident now he does hold your thighs, he opens them to give him room for his head to sink deeper into you opening his mouth wider to take as much of you as he can. The warmth and taste of your juices is addictive, gojo wants to drink you and then sink so deep into you; this is the idea that leads him to, intoxicated with ecstasy slide a long finger inside you.

Your confusion sets in as you call his name. His cock aches, you sound so drowsy, your voice barely a murmur that is replaced with a broken moan after he sucks hard on your clit.

You meet his cocked smile in the middle of your legs. His eyes are two full moons that greet you shining with desire and need, his hair is a white tangle that sticks to his forehead and falls tousled over his ears. You take note to cut it off when they're not in such a… compromising situation and instead help him by pushing the sweaty strands aside back to get a better glimpse of what was going on.

"What are you…" you can't finish the sentence because of the sudden feeling that hits you. It's that tightening and loosening rope in your belly warning you that you're on the verge of orgasm. So fast? It's what makes you wonder, how long has gojo been eating your pussy?

"Let it all out." He commands you. And your body obeys him, "All in my mouth," he adds in a purr. You can't even protest or assimilate the sensations that hit your body.

And only when you start to break into his embrace do you realize that two of his fingers are stretching you to the limit and his tongue keeps licking you back and forth and up and down. You try to pull his hair back, tell him you're sore, but Gojo doesn't stop until he's satisfied, not until you've finished squeezing around his fingers.

Gojo pulls out of you with a grunt, your body unravels again on the bed as if in a liquid state and your eyelids give in to exhaustion and close again. Your chest rises and falls desperately seeking oxygen, and every fiber in your body feels on fire.

He leaves one last kiss on top of your clit and rises from between your thighs with soaked lips and wet chin. "I'm going to push my cum inside you now, okay?" a loving hand emerges caressing your navel through the thin fabric, you stare up at him from below between heavy lashes. "Just keep sleeping, angel. I know you're tired, just let me take what I want."

a/n. this was going to be darker but I'm a chicken and I regretted it.

[fuctacles]

<< eight | 😺 | ten >>

a little poll while you're here

It's pure torture, sitting in a salon chair. Eddie briefly wonders how women can endure all this treatment and how many of them experience their first homoerotic thoughts under a hairdresser's touch.

The only time anyone is this hands-on with him is during sex, and even then it wildly depends on the partner. His body can't comprehend that it's not a bedroom setting, despite the intimacy of drawn curtains and soft music, and that it is not the time to pop a boner. 

Thankfully, Stephanie swiftly distracts him with questions about his interests, which always works on his nerdy brain. The fact that she's no longer massaging shampoo into his scalp also helps.

"I'm going to cut about this much, okay?" she asks after a moment of brushing and D&D talk, holding up the ends of his hair so he can see. 

"Sure. There's so much of it you can cut more," he jokes but Stephanie cocks her head, pursing her mouth.

Gods he wishes she'd stop making her lips look so kissable. 

"Don't you want to grow them out even more? I think it would look good."

She could also stop praising his hair and overall look.

"You think I could pull off ass-long elvish hair?" he smiles at her mirror reflection. 

"Hm..." She looks at him completely seriously, plays with the hair around his face, and traces the line of his cheeks with the tips of her nails. Whatever vision of him Steph is conjuring in her mind, she seems to like it. "I think yes. Absolutely," she decides, but Eddie doesn't remember what he has just asked.

"Only the ends, then?" she asks, backing away so he can release the breath he's been holding.

"Yeah. Just the ends." He tries to nod, but she swiftly taps her comb on the top of his head. 

"Don't move your head unless I say so," she scolds him with a played-up frown.

"Yes ma'am," he's quick to agree. It's her kingdom and all that. Also, she's maneuvering sharp objects around his head. 

"Good boy," Stephanie smiles again and one of these sharp object might as well have just pierced his heart. 

He knows he won't leave this ordeal unscathed. 

"Could you dye just a streak of my hair? Some weird color, like red?"

Eddie can see her little smile in the mirror. It's a knowing smirk like she was anticipating that question, and this hint of condescension makes her look hot as Hell. 

"If you want red-red and not ginger-red, then I'd have to order the dye," she says, thoughtfully combing through his hair. Stephanie works fast, though, so he's pretty sure she should be done soon. There's another snip of her scissors before she straightens up to look at him properly. 

"As you can imagine, there aren't many adventurous metalheads in Hawkins to work on."

"I'll let you know that during longer breaks there are at least four."

Stephanie laughs.

"Your bandmates, right? But are they all as willing to experiment with their hair?" She raises her eyebrow, and she's suddenly up in his face. The counter behind her creaks under her weight and Eddie wonders how nice it would be to feel it on his lap.

"Well... Gareth's been growing it out," he offers. 

"If he has anything in mind, let me know," she smiles. "I should probably look more into what's new and hip among kids anyway."

"If you weren't holding scissors, I'd pinch you," Eddie scoffs. "New and hip among kids," he repeats under his breath. 

Stephanie rolls her eyes. 

"There's a big difference in hairstyles between Hawkins and Indianapolis though, you can't deny that." She straightens up again to wet her comb in the sink. "Close your eyes."

He does as he's told. 

"Would you want to be—" his breath catches embarrassingly when her damp fingers touch his chin to angle his head where she wants it. "—a hairdresser in a city like that?" he asks.

She hums in affirmation as she combs through his fringe. A stray droplet falls on his nose and she swipes it away with her finger. Eddie wants to lick it clean.

"I've been saving for a second salon, actually. The prices in the city are crazy though."

"Really?" Eddie raises his eyebrows since it's all he can do right now, considering there's a snip of scissors way too close to his eye. He thinks about having Stephanie up in Indianapolis with him. In the same city, that is, close enough to drop for a friendly visit. He could show her all his favorite places, too. 

She hums.

"Do you cut your fringe yourself?" she asks suddenly. 

Eddie sighs. 

"Does it show?"

"Not really," she chuckles. "You did a good job, honestly. It's slightly choppy, but it suits you, so I'm just gonna even it out and leave it like that."

"Oh. Thank you."

She hums again, snipping some hair by his left temple. 

"If I didn't like working with hair, staying here would be torture," she picks up their previous topic. "I got this place shortly before Robin had to move, and I felt stuck in Hawkins without her. But I'm making good money here so I figured I could save enough for a place over there." She combs his fringe again, snips once, and then he can hear a clank when she puts her tools away. 

"How much more do you need?" Eddie asks and then jumps when she touches his face again, dusting stray hair from his cheeks. 

"A bit," she says, but it sounds like more than that. "I was going to sell this place to add to it, but then Robin was talking about opening a chain, so now I'm training Joyce to take over here. Don't tell her though." She bops his nose suddenly, making him squeak. "It's kind of a surprise and I need time to figure it out. You can open your eyes."

Eddie blinks his eyes open and smiles as soon as he can see Stephanie again. But she moves aside, to reveal the mirror behind her. 

"I know it's not much, but is that okay?"

There's indeed not much of a difference, other than his hair being an inch or two shorter and his fringe laying a bit better against his skin. 

"Yes, I'm never cutting it by myself," he says, lightly brushing the hair framing his face with his fingers.

"I can totally do it for you whenever you visit," she agrees easily. "Now, do you want some color in your hair anyway? Because I could bleach that streak you want dyed later, but we would have to deal with the roots when you come back."

Eddie hums thoughtfully. 

"How light can you go? Can you give me like, a white Bride of Frankenstein streak?" 

Stephanie snorts at that. 

"I'm afraid not." She purses her lips, gently rubbing a lock of his damp hair between her fingers. "At least not with what I have on hand. Your hair isn't that thick but it's dark enough to be a challenge for bleaching. I may be good, but I'm not good enough to promise it wouldn't burn to a crisp." She smiles apologetically. 

"I'll wait for the red dye, then." Eddie shrugs. "No problem." 

"Okay. I'll grab the conditioner then, and we should be done soon." Stephanie pats his shoulder and he briefly considers asking her for something outlandish just to keep her working with his hair. 

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