#drop the eyebrow tutorial queens

[iwatch-thebees]

my great-great-grandmother and great-great-aunt absolutely serving in 1897

[stinkrascal]

BRIE AND VLSD WITH THIS FILTER DHDJJSJWJEJFNJFJFKTOFOWJBQBF

[wonder-kid-pugh]

All the right moves - (Rose Lavelle x reader)

"Hey guys! So today is obviously a very special day. It's been something I've been looking forward to for ages now and honestly I feel so privileged  to be doing this" I smile into my camera. "So today I'm going to be meeting the women of the US National Team. So we're obviously going to play around with a ball maybe hang out a bit and yeah. It's going to be awesome!"

I point the camera at my gear bag, "I got my boots, I got my ball and I got my gear. So we're good to go!" I grab my bag and left to go meet them at the stadium. They sent a car to come pick me up so as we drove I got some footage to do a time lapse for the video. As I was walking through the tunnel to meet the team on the field I start talking to the camera again, "Guys I'm about to meet them. I'm freaking out. Like I'm about to meet world champions! The best team in the world! So let's see how it goes".

I start walking towards the benches where they're all gathered and as I come closer Vlatko was the first to notice me, "Ah there you are!" I smile and wave, "Hello!" He just gives me a smile, "Thank you for coming". But I just shake my head, "Honestly it was no trouble. Thank you for inviting me!" He chuckles as he turns to the team, "I want us to try and be more creative on the ball. I want us to try stuff that no other team has even thought of so I invited Ms L/n here to train with us". "Not that some of you need any help with that" I add looking at Tobin Heath having to stop myself from fangirling.

Vlatko smiles at me, "Well I'll let you take it from here then". I shift nervously on my feet as the whole team looks at me before I start, "Well uh for those of you who don't know me I'm Y/n L/n and I'm a soccer freestyler. I have a YouTube channel called For Kicks where I post vlogs and soccer challenges and other stuff and yeah". "They're really good" Christen Press smiles. My eyes widen, "You've watched them?" She nods and nudges Tobin beside her, "It's hard not to when this one keeps sending them to me". I close my eyes and press my fingers to my temples. "Uh are you okay?" Someone asks. "Yeah yeah I'm fine. Just trying to process that Tobin Heath actually watches my videos". Everyone laughs as I open my eyes again.

"But anyways I thought that we could start by messing around and just getting a feel for the ball. Then we go into a big game of Panna. Maybe some 2v2's and 1v1's afterwards. Then if some of ye are up for it I have some challenges to film as well" I smile counting them out on my fingers. "What's Panna?" Mal asks. But Tobin and I just grin at each other, "Well usually it's mostly a 2v2 or 1v1 game where you try and roll the ball through the other teams legs to win. But I was thinking more of a big game with last player standing?"

"Hold up just a minute" Sonnet speaks up. She points at me, "You" points to the rest of the team, "want us to try and win a nutmeg game" she points at Tobin, "against the designated Queen of Nutmegs?" I shrug with a smile, "Yup!" She shrugs, "Okay then".

We all laugh while I start rolling my ball under my foot, "Well get a ball and start messing around". Everyone gets a ball and starts playing around with it while I started setting up my gear. As I'm messing around with the settings I hear someone comes up behind me, "So this is what you do?" I see all the younger players as watching me. I shrug, "Yeah pretty much". I smile as I stop playing with the camera and focus on them, "It started off with just trick shot videos and then it just grew from there".

I start juggling the ball doing some around the world's and other tricks, "It went from trick shot videos to skill tutorials. By that time I started going to tournaments and filming them and I guess people liked it". I chuckle a bit as I balance the ball on my foot, "I guess people liked my awkward and weird personality as I started posting stuff on Instagram and other platforms. So I started doing more and adding vlogs along with challenges with other soccer influencers and players". I flicked the ball up and balanced it on my back in between my shoulder blades as I hold out my hand to shake their hand, "Which has lead me here to meeting you guys".

They chuckle as Rose shakes my hand and I wink at the midfielder who blushes. "Well let's get started" I laugh and walk away. I can't help but smirk as I hear them tease the midfielder. "Okay so it's last player standing. If you get nutmegged you go sit in shame off to the side" I joke as everyone laughs. "Everyone ready?" I ask as I focus my camera on them. "No!" Everyone shouts back except for Tobin who is smiling like a kid on Christmas mornings. I chuckle but shrug as I blow the whistle starting the game.

Tobin wastes no time in going from player to player and nutmegging them. I can't help but laugh as everyone lets out small moans and whines as Tobin megs them. But what catches my eye is the fact while people are so focused on avoiding Tobin, they don't notice Rose who's knocking just as many people out of the game. I'm so focused on Rose that I barely notice someone coming. But without even thinking based on pure instinct before the ball can meg me I drag it back with my foot and flick it through the person's legs. But just as I do it everyone freezes and stares at me shocked. I look at them confused before I realised who I'm just after megging.

Tobin Heath

She looks just as shocked at me as I look between her and the ball, "Oh my god. Did I?" But as I look at the ball then stare at the camera in my hands and the cameras set up on the side. "Oh my god! I just megged Tobin Heath and I got it all on camera!" Everyone forgets the game as the youngin's swarm around me and start cheering as if I'm after scoring the winning goal in a World cup final. I start running around celebrating not knowing quite what to do. I only stop when in my excitement I trip over my own feet causing everyone to laugh at me. "Hey Rose your not the only clumsy one now!" Emily teases causing her to glare at the blonde defender.

But I instead ignore the slight dig and pop back up on my feet looking at Tobin who couldn't help but smile at me, "Omg I can't believe I just did that!" I bounce on my feet as I clutch the camera to my chest, "This is so getting posted!" Now this causes Tobin's eyes to widen. We both stare at each other before I take off running with her following closely behind me. I run around trying to shake her off but she follows dangerously close behind. That is until I ran behind Christen and Rose. Tobin stops as I hide behind the two players. I give an innocent smile while the older midfielder glares at me. I peer over Christen's shoulder and with one hand I squish the forward's cheeks together, "How can you be mad looking at this face? Are you really going to try get past her?" Christen smiles making Tobin's glare drop and is replaced with a smile.

While I creek away from the two I somehow tripped over again. I let out a small yelp and tense as I think I'm about to hit the ground. But instead I feel arms wrap around me. I blush as I look up at these brilliant blue eyes sparkling down at me. "Hi" I squeak out already feeling the heat pouring off my cheeks over the fact that I tripped over air in front of a World Champion. She giggles, "Usually it's me that's tripping all over the place". Not knowing what came over me I just shrug nonchalantly, "I guess I'm just falling for you".

This made the midfielder blush now as well as it's now my turn to giggle at how red she goes. I don't know how long we stay there before a cough interrupts us making us turn to see the rest of the team watching us. We both blush even harder as we straighten up and put some distance between the two of us.

But me being the awkward person I am and not liking the attention I was getting decide to redirect.

"I'm still posting this later"

"Hey!"

.........

So after doing 1v1 against most of the team (my favourite being when I did a no look nutmeg on Sonnett) we decide to take a break as I sit on the bench sipping some water. What I didn't expect was for a certain midfielder to sit down beside me, "Hey". I smile albeit a bit shocked, "H-hey". She chuckles a bit before looking at my camera, "What are you doing?" I shrug, "Messing around. Just checking some footage". She smiles, "Can I see?" I lick my lips but shrug as I tilt the camera towards her. What I didn't expect was her to scoot closer to me so much so that our shoulders are brushing.

I was too busy watching her that I barely realised she was talking to me, "Sorry what?" She grin as once again a pink tint comes to my face, "This is really good". I bite my lip and just shrug, "It's easy when you guys make it look good". She starts watching a clip I filmed a short while ago of me messing around with the ball, "Your so good". I roll my eyes at her, "Not as good as you Ms World Champ".

I couldn't help it. Flirting with the Cincinatti native just came so easy. It was like the words were just rolling my tongue before I could even stop myself. "Are you always this flirty?" Rose laughs trying to calm down her flaming cheeks. I shrug, "Not really. But I mean can you blame me?" She tilts her head at me looking at me quizcally while I just stare back at her, "I mean look at yourself. Your beautiful and funny. Not to mention an amazing soccer player and a rising star in the soccer world. Your more amazing than you think Rose".

She bites her lip trying to stave off a smile with another blush coming to her face. I grin as I look at her, "How about this?" I start. She raises an eyebrow at me as I stand up, "I still have a challenge video to record. If I beat you I get to take you out on a date". She lips her lips quickly before quirking an eyebrow at me, "And what do I get if I win?" I smirk with a small wink, "I'll buy you dinner".

She shakes her head with a laugh as I hold out a hand to her which she happily takes. I can't help but smile as her hand fits perfectly with mine. And smirk as I hear Sonnett behind us.

"Girl's got moves and I'm not talking about soccer"

...........

"So seeing as we are tied, we are going into a tie breaker" I smile at the camera as I play with the ball in my hands. Rose stands beside me with a small smile. The rest of the team were behind the camera but joined in on the challenges when needed. And there was definitely some sabotage going on.

I'd say it was safe to say they knew about the bet. Which became abundantly clear when Lindsey tripped Rose which helped me win one of the challenges.

I clap my hands, "So for the tie breaker we're going to have a juggling competition with a slight twist". Rose sighs when she sees the rest of the teams faces, "Oh no". I laugh as I hold up the ball to the camera, "So Rose and I are going to start juggling and the person to last the longest wins. But to make the challenge slightly harder" I look at Kelley who tosses me something to hold up to the camera, "the rest of the girls are going to be throwing water balloons at us trying to out us off".

"Why?" Rose whines as the rest of the team laughs. But before I could do anything the front of my jersey is soaked. Everyone laughs while my mouth drops as I see the nutmeg queen grin at me.

"That's for posting the video"

I peel my shirt off me but shrug, "It was worth it". I look over to see Rose giggling at me so I smirk at I launch the balloon at her and she squeals while she also holds her wet jersey out from her, "Y/n!" I laugh but quickly stop as she chases me. She tries to grab me but I catch her hands and pull her into me hugging her against my chest as she squirms and wiggles in my arms. But it all stopped when I hid my face in the crook of her neck and she shivered. I couldn't help but smirk which she probably feels as she slaps my arm, "Shut up". I don't say anything and instead lift her back to in front of the camera where everyone was smirking at us.

"Well without a further ado give us a countdown ladies!" I smile as the team starts grabbing water balloons. "3...2...1...Go!" The team shout as Rose and I begin juggling. It was clear from the start that the majority of the team were gunning for Rose but to not make it too obvious they still threw some at me. I squeal when a balloon bursts against my cheek as the water explodes in my face causing me to squint out of one eye but I thankfully catch the ball before the ball hits the ground. Rose however wasn't as fortune because as great as she is, she wasn't able to recover quick enough from a forceful balloon to the stomach. As she lunges for the ball she wasn't able to regain control of it and kicks the ball away with no chance of catching it before it hit the ground.

Once I'm sure she's lost the ball I boot the ball up into the air as I throw my hands up I'm celebration. Some of the youngsters and some of the other team jump on top of me cheering while I can see Rose roll her eyes but with a hint of a smile on her face. Once everyone calmed down I go back to the camera with Rose and everyone laughs at the two of us. I was completely soaked but I was no where near as bad as Rose who was soaked to the bone. I pull my jersey off over my head and use it as a towel for my face and wipe the water from my eyes, "Well there you have it. By the slimiest of margins I won". I throw an arm around Rose's shoulders, "But it was really fun playing against Rose today and she didn't make it easy for me".

"I want to thank the amazing ladies of the national team for helping me today and I hope to do some more video with them in the future. It's been a pleasure working with you all but before we go we have one last thing to do". Everyone looks at me curiously as I hand Rose a water balloon with a wicked grin, "Time for some Payback".

Everyone scatters as Rose and I chase after them. I end up launching the balloon and it finding its target at Mal's back while Rose nails Sonnett in the back of the head. I see Vlatko and his support staff drop bags of water balloons and a water fight breaks out in a free for all. It was really fun.

Even if I had no dry clothes to change into afterwards.

.............

"Why don't you play with a team?" Rose asks as we walk aimlessly around, "I mean your clearly good enough". I shrug as I take a swig of my milkshake, "I played club when I was younger but quit after a while". She scrunches her face, "Why?" I bite the corner of my lip, "You could say I always had an talent for dribbling and ball control and I enjoyed challenging players head on trying to get around them". I play with the straw of my drink, "I guess my teammates didn't like that and thought I was a ball hog and it didn't help that I was a bit awkward and weird and was only really loud out on the pitch. After that is when the bullying started  and I dreaded going to practice so I eventually just quit".

I couldn't help but smile though, "I think it all changed when my dad bought me my first camera. I started recording myself doing skills and tricks and posting them. I think I really started coming out of my shell as I started doing more video and when I decided to start doing different videos and actually talking about soccer and other stuff and for some reason people liked my weird awkward self and it just went from there".

She frowns at me, "That's awful I'm sorry". I shrug, "Eh it's fine. I mean it sucked but I think I always enjoyed the more creative side of soccer. I always loved to think of new things to do with the ball". "Besides" I start with a small grin as I nudge her shoulder, "it can't be that bad. It lead me to meeting you didn't it?"

She laughs but couldn't stop the bright blush rising to her cheeks, "Smooth". I jokingly run my hand through my hair and wiggle my eyebrows at her, "Hey my skills don't just retain to the soccer field". She laughs and bites the corner of her lip.

"I'll have to see about that"

I know this is bad but I thought I would post it......Hope you enjoyed it!!!

[cosmiclatte28]

Fringe (Yuta x reader)

hello~~

here is a father!Yuta imagine, there are some Japanese words used here because dang I think Yuta speaking Japanese to his daughter will be hella cute! Domestic fluff Nakamoto family

quick vocab crash course

Nante Kotoda! = Oh my gosh

Otosan = father

Okaasan = mother 

HERE WE GOO!!!

The little girl with pigtails and bangs runs away from his father's grip.

“Nante Kotoda!! Come here Namie!” The young father drops his scissors and his other hand holds tightly to the pieces of hairs.

“I'm screwed" the Japanese guy drops his head to the floor when he sees the shadow of his young daughter enters her playing room.

“Namie-chan, what should I tell your mother.” Nakamoto Yuta closes his eyes when he can see just how mad you'll be to go home from a lunch with friends and find your daughter with a failed fringe.

“Otosan- why are you like that?” the cute girl returns from her room with her doll. She was actually running away from his father's grip only to take her doll but Yuta snipped the scissors at the wrong time.

Now the little girl looks cute with a gap fringe and although Yuta wants to hold back his laughter, he can't. She looks silly but in a cute way.

“Come here, let me see how can we fix this.” Yuta calls Namie over and like the good girl she is, she comes and sits on her father's lap.

“Why should you run away before? Look at you being so still now.” Yuta runs a hand over her hair.

“Well I wanted mr bunny to be with me as you cut my hair.” she presses a soft kiss to the purple bunny Taeyong gave on her third birthday.

Yuta giggles and plants a kiss on her small cheek. The young girl lets out a loud laugh and Yuta takes his phone from the floor.

“Aigo- I did everything the video said but you ran little princess… now can we fix this?” he tries to look for a video to fix a broken fringe but ends up giving up.

Yuta can no longer think of any better ideas, the next thing he knows is that the bell rings and Yuta hurries over to open the door.

“What is the emergency?” Taeyong pops into the room and his eyes fall on the small girl sitting on the floor while playing with the bunny plushy he gave.

Taeyong's mouth hung open “Ottokhe Yuta what will you say to (y/n)? You're quiet in a big problem.” Taeyong walks to the kitchen to wash his hands and follow the Nakamoto family to the living room.

“Taeyong samchon" the small bilingual girl greets Taeyong with a tight hug. Taeyong loves Yuta's angel and he has spent quiet a lot of time looking after her when Yuta goes out to a night date with you.

“Did otosan do this to you?” Taeyong speaks in Japanese to the younger girl.

She nods and grins “Is it bad? Otosan looks a bit sad after I ran away.”

“She ran when I snip her hair, now there goes her hair. Can you help me fix this Yong?” Yuta looks into the older's eyes with hope.

Taeyong usually knows how to handle things when they went out of control and Yuta is glad he is his friend.

“Let's see, I am not sure if what I do will be a good thing. What if I mess up too?” Taeyong asks as he holds the scissors in his hand.

“Well usually (y/n) cut her fringe, but earlier Namie’s eyes were poked by her hair and I cannot stand it any longer seeing her blink all the time.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes “Next time you better take a small hair clip and clip it away from her face, rather than cut it.”

Yuta gasps “I didn’t think of that!”

Taeyong goes to the smaller girl, gently he asks Yuta to hold her still on his lap while Taeyong does his best to fix the damage.

Taeyong bends and focuses his attention to the hair alignment while his fingers skillfully holds and cuts the smooth hair down.

“Okay I guess this is better than before. It's too short now, but (y/n) will like this better.” Taeyong brushes the short fringe and can't hold back his disappointment.

“Yak Yuta we both ruin it! What if we put hair pins?” Taeyong tries to find a way to make the hair looks better.

Yuta hurries over to the small table filled with rubber bands and hair accessories. He returns with a box full of small clips and sits down on the floor.

“Namie-chan let's see which one can save us.” Yuta picks different styles and puts it on her hair.

“Now this is better!” they both agree on a small flower hair clip and the two grown up men high five each other and fall to the floor.

They laugh as they sleep on the thick mattress where Namie plays.

“Stay for dinner? As a thank you from me.” Yuta offers when he hears his alarm goes off. Time for Namie's bath.

“Where is (y/n)?” Taeyong suddenly realizes he hasn’t asked your whereabouts

“Lunch with her friends and I told her to take a break… so maybe she's pampering herself or shopping.”

“Come Nami-chan let's shower! Okaasan will want to meet you smelling good.”

“Let me help you cook dinner. What is your plan?%” Taeyong gets up from laying down.

Yuta insists they just order some take out, he doesn’t want to trouble Taeyong and he surely needs a good dinner to make sure you won’t be mad when you see Namie's hair.

Yuta finishes washing the young girl and returning looking fresh himself. Taeyong helps clean up the hairs and they both wait for their orders to come.

You return home looking for Namie first thing first and happily greet Taeyong for being here. You didn’t smell anything wrong, Taeyong is a regular in this house almost like a second family so you don’t think anything is wrong.

Yuta ordered your favorite Chinese foods and you're happily telling the two men your activity today.

“Oh you went shopping?” Yuta smiles when he hears you buying Namie some new dress and a new shirt for Yuta.

“It's a shirt for you, thanks for taking care of Namie and letting me have a bit fun! Also great dinner choice.” You kiss your husband before walking to the living room and take the new dress out for Namie to try.

He was right. His decision of ordering dinner is the best thing he can do to save himself. Taeyong gives him a secret high five and both men hold their breath as they see you try to put the dress on Namie.

Just when her small head reappears from the dress, the mighty flower hair clip falls and there goes the secret.

You look at Namie's hair that somehow looks odd. Questioning yourself did you cut her hair or what is wrong with her fringe.

Yuta and Taeyong both shut their eyes when they realize you've seen their secret.

However instead of hearing you yelling or screaming, they hear you laughing and giggling so hard.

“Yak who did this to you?” you laugh as you hold your little princess in her new dress up to your chest.

You press some loving kisses to her mochi cheeks and she loves that for she's giggling and clapping.

“Who cut your hair and mess it up? Otosan did this to you?” you interrogate the small girl.

She is still smiling as she shakes her head, you frown it couldn’t be Taeyong right?

“Taeyong?” you ask her again somehow feeling ridiculous that Taeyong has balls to do this.

Namie shakes her head again and makes her fringes move.

“Who then?” you turn your head to look at the two men who are already avoiding your gaze.

You shake your head and sigh “Both of them?”

Namie nods and claps her hands.

“I’m sorry… I can explain.” Yuta gently takes your hand in his.

“I cut her hair following a YouTube tutorial and she ran away right when I snip her hair. Then I called Taeyong to help me. He did make it way better though.” Yuta picks his phone to show you the before and after picture.

You laugh “Thank you Yong! That looks way better than what Yuta did.”

“Looks like Taeyong is more ready to be a husband.” You tease the man you love with all your heart.

Yuta groans “Hey it's Namie's fault.”

You kiss him quick “Namie is the queen here, she is never wrong.”

Taeyong laughs at that, “Alright, thanks for dinner. I guess I can leave now. Yuta holds me here so you won’t be mad at him.” He wiggles his eyebrows

You click your tongue “Thanks Tae, you really save him though. Thanks for saving Namie’s hair too! Take care!” you and Yuta send Taeyong off and return to the small Nakamoto house you and your husband had been working hard to pay.

“Sorry love, I won’t do it again.” Yuta lovingly and sincerely hugs you and your heart melts at his sweet words.

You rub his tensed shoulder and whisper “No worries. Things happen and I had done that once or twice before but you're never mad at me. Come on it's just hair. She'll grow a new one with no doubt.” You lean your cheek to Yuta's shoulder and look into Namie who is enjoying her new dress.

Yuta smiles and kisses you quick “Thank you for being understanding. How's your day? Enjoy the break?” he whispers slowly.

You nod “Had a great time although I resist myself to call you and ask if anything is wrong.”

Well, Yuta told you to promise yourself not to message or call him unless emergency and he too promised he'll only call for emergencies.

“But I did well except for the hair.” He winces when he remembers the despair he had when he held her hairs.

You giggle “As long as her hair can grow, I forgive your mistakes.”

Yuta scrunches his nose “Arraseo, I love you!” he kisses your nose and you blush.

“I love you too! Thank you for letting me get a day off.” You lean into his embrace and let Yuta scoops you in his arm.

“Otosan! Otosan! Namie too!” the little girl makes a grabby hands to his father and Yuta has to put you down then scoops up his little queen. Yes queen, you were right… Namie is the queen here.

“It's bed time little queen, let's brush our teeth.” Yuta brings her small girl to the sink and assists her brushing her teeth.

You clean yourself up and wait for Yuta in the main room. Namie is already learning to sleep by herself. Your connecting door is left open so you both can check on Namie.

Your young husband returns after tugging Namie to bed. Maybe she was happy all the day and played a lot with her father that she fell asleep right as soon as she touches her bed.

“Namie is cute right?” Yuta asks under the dark room as he hugs you close to his warm body under the blanket.

You nod “She is cute.”

“she's like you.” Yuta runs a hand lovingly over your hair “She has your eyes and your lips.”

You blush “I'm glad, but she has your smile… the sweetest smile!”

Yuta chuckles “Is it okay if I ask for a King now? Namie is three, we can have one more king.”

He asks nicely, since this may be something sensitive for you. You've lost a child before Namie, an older brother who did not make it to fifth month. You need to take a year break to overcome the pain and Yuta has been wonderfully understanding.

You’ve thought about this. After seeing Namie grows up and celebrating her third brithday, you think it is a good time to plan a younger sibling for her.

Yuta takes your silence as a code and he hurriedly change his subject.

“Honey how did you know I love that blue shirt you bought for me? I've been eyeing them-“

You cut him with a kiss “Yuta, what if I tell you that right now there may be a king here.” You bring his hand to touch your stomach.

Yuta's eyes widen and he stutters “Really?”

You bite your lips and reach over the small drawer by your bed.

You put a thin rectangle object in his palm and smile as you watch his face lights up with the Nakamoto trademark smile.

Yuta saw the two lines and he just hugs you and kisses you deeply.

You hug him back “Looks like we can wish for a Yuta junior!”

“I am lucky to have you,” Yuta pecks your lips and engulfs you in his warm arms.

“And I am lucky to be yours, Nakamoto Yuta.” You close your eyes and lean into his body, unwinding all the tiredness of life.

 end

[hawksugarbaby]

Kirishima x reader - Drag

Fluff + drag queen Kirishima

"EIJIRO KIRISHIMA!" you sprinted to his room with a crinkling plastic bag in hand while shoving other students out the way. You knocked on his door rapidly bouncing up and down "yes (y/n)?" you shoved the plastic bag in his face and grinned from ear to ear "I saw your Instagram..." his eyes shot open and he immediately started hunting for excuses "uh it was a bet? I lost a bet to mina I promise" he slowly backed up into his room trying to hide the makeup palettes on his shelf and pushing away the feminine clothes lying on the floor "make me pretty!" you pulled out an eyeshadow palette and some brushes waving them about desperately "your already pretty?" he put the brushes down hoping no one else was hearing this conversation "EI PLEASE!" you begged and he sighed pulling you inside and shutting his door loudly.

"Please don't tell anyone pumpkin" he sighed looking at his girlfriend as you bounced around excitedly "baby I will never ever tell anyone if you don't want me to" you promised and he sat you down in front of his mirror brushing the hair out of your face combing through it with his crimson riot hairbrush which you thought was adorable. He shuffled through the palettes in your bag "you got these from the dollar store didn't you" he sat the out on the marble vanity and opened them up to look at the cracked powders making you click your tongue "they weren't like that when I bought them" you said closing the palettes again quickly "it's okay I have plenty" he muttered and pulled a drawer out from under his bed which was filled top to bottom edge to edge with makeup.

"Wow, Ei that's a lot! This must have been a lot of money" you giggled and he pulled out his mint to be and misunderstood palette by colourpop and lipstick by nyx "yeah it does cost a lot but I think it's worth it" he smiled and pulled the foundation you bought out of the bag since it was your shade and he would not be letting you go out looking like a cheap whore who couldn't even match her foundation to her skin tone. "I've never worn makeup before" you admit squishing your cheeks together while he hunted for a colour corrector to go over your purple eye bags "your 17 and you've never worn makeup?" he asked and dabbed the colour corrector on thickly, your eyebags were terrible afterall "you haven't been sleeping well have you pumpkin," he asked blending out the cream under your eyes and pumping out some foundation onto the back of his hand. "Just nightmares Ei" you gave a lopsided grin and he kissed the top of your head "do you want to talk about it," he asked and started putting the foundation on your face gently, he didn't want to hurt you by dabbing too hard.

You shook your head and turned looking into the mirror instead of at him "do you need to talk about something?" he stopped doing your foundation "what do you mean?" you carefully thought of how to phrase your next sentence while he took a drink of his water "are you gay?" you grimaced when he spat his water out getting it all over you and the vanity. he chuckled "no pumpkin I'm definitely not gay" he wiped the vanity down with an old T-shirt "are you trans? If you are I'll support you one hundred per cent of the way" you put your hand on top of his reassuring him even though he didn't need the reassurance "I'm not trans either (y/n) I just do drag" he showed you a little book from his shelf and you flicked through it it was filled with pictures of him in drag and flyers and tickets from all of his shows. It did bring him immense joy knowing that if he was trans you wouldn't break up with him (sorry straight ppl) and that you had no issue if he was gay other than you not being a guy which would have been an issue.

"You look so pretty in this one" you gushed pointing to the picture of him next to a microphone and a laughing crowd and he laughed nervously remembering that night did not go brilliantly, well no it did, but that night he got caught by Mr Aizawa for sneaking out, BUT he got permission to go do his thing instead of having to sneak out "how many people know?" you asked while he primed your eyelids with a different blender "you and Mr Aizawa," he said sadly, sure he was upset that his friends didn't know but he didn't WANT them to know, that's why he lied and told them he didn't have Instagram but he was more than happy now that you knew and he no longer had to hide his passion from the person he loved most in this world "Mr Aizawa?" you giggled imagining the shocked face of your teacher when your boyfriend got home in a full face of makeup "comes to every one of my shows" he grinned and picked up a small pointy brush. "Well I better get to know Mr Aizawa a bit more huh"

He dusted the brush in a dark green and asked you to shut your eyes "so how come I wasn't aware my boyfriend is a drag queen" you asked while the handsome boy packed your crease with dark green and he sighed heavily concentrating on the powder falling onto your cheeks "I just didn't know how you would react" he said brushing the green flecks from your face "I will always accept you Ei don't you forget that" you grabbed the hand he wasn't using and squeezed it tightly while he stamped the rest of the colour in and winged the end and started buffing it out.

"I don't understand why you wanted me to do your makeup though," he said picking up a clean brush and smothering it in a pastel green dusting it lightly on the edge of the crease he had made to blend it out and went back over the dark green, "I told you I wanted you to make me pretty" you reminded him, maybe he forgot what you said when you came to his door and shoved the bag in his face "your already gorgeous (y/n) you don't need makeup," he said kissing the top of your head again while pouring some concealer onto his hand "aw Ei thank you" you smiled at him... maybe, you didn't know you still had your eyes closed "I don't really know why I wanted you to actually i just thought it would be fun" you shrugged and raised your eyebrows for him when you felt him go in with the concealer covering part of your eyelid and the outward flick and more green flecks fluttered down to your face making you scrunch up your nose "wait I'm going to sneeze" you warned him and turned away letting out an adorable kitten sneeze making him laugh "I love you more and more each day" he praised making your face turn red underneath the foundation.

He brushed on a shimmery white into the corners of your eyelid making them sparkle "(y/n) you realise that once the lipstick is on it means no kisses" he smirked and watched as your face dropped and you struggled to keep your eyes closed "YOU NEVER SAID NO KISSES!" you yelled and smacked your hand over your mouth before someone could come and check out the couples quarrel a few rooms over "what if you put your makeup on too then nothing is technically getting messed up?" you offered hoping that you could convince him. You would not be living this day without kisses it was illegal for you to go a day without kisses "what if someone see's me?" he asked picking up a limey green on his brush and moving the hair that had fallen in front of your face. "Then we say I dared you and that I bought all the makeup and followed a tutorial," you said bringing up a youtube video that looked similar-ish to the look he was doing on you "it couldn't hurt," he said and put on the lime green in the middle of your lid blending it into the white.

"I'm really proud of you Ei," you said and your lips turned upward while he applied a lighter version of the eyeshadow he used on your crease to the outer part of your eyelid following the flick upwards and blending it into the shimmery lime "why?" he pulled back to look at his work so far and smiled softly at how pretty you looked, you always looked pretty but this was your first time ever wearing makeup and he was doing it for you, something about the love he put into the makeup made you shine with beauty... and the light on the vanity made your eyeshadow sparkle. "Because you followed your passion even if you weren't sure what others would think. And that makes you the manliest guy alive" you complimented and he looked over at his poster of a crimson riot like it would somehow come to life and agree with your words "that means more than you could ever know pumpkin" you opened the eye he wasn't working on and saw him looking at his poster "plus your only 17 and you're famous as a Hero and a drag queen"

He went in with a white eyeliner cutting the crease with the pointy stick trying not to harm your eye "I hate these things" he said and grumbled something about how stupid and fiddly they are then slammed the liner on the vanity neatening up the lines a bit "wow we're almost done the first eye" he said applying the eyeshadows he used on your eyelid to your lower lashline and blended them out making them look soft and feathery and finally applied the shiny white to the corner of your eye. He picked out a tiny plastic container of tiny tiny diamonds and a tube of eyelash glue and gently pressed the diamonds onto the top of your cut crease. He used the same lash glue and put on the long eyelashes then moved on to fill in your brow.

Time skip brought to you by Autoglass repair Autoglass replace

He finished the second eye and grabbed a large fluffy brush and contoured your face bringing the warmth back into you. He grabbed a rosy blush and dusted it on and finished grabbed a smaller brush brightening your face with a greeny-blue highlighter making you glow in the white light of the vanity. "We're almost done," he said letting you know you could look forward to opening your eyes again. "But then you have to do yours" you reminded him and he hummed "it takes a quarter of this time to do it to myself" he teased and popped open a lipstick asking you to part your lips "why you gonna kiss me?" you chuckled and he leaned in close kissing you with his soft lips "obviously" and he put the lipstick on you adding some green rhinestones to seal the deal.

"Okay (y/n) open your eyes" he instructed and stood up letting you take in your face while he hunted through his wardrobe throwing stuff onto his bed "holy All Might" you leaned in close to the mirror admiring the gorgeous artwork on your face "I didn't know I could look so good in green" you mumbled and beamed at the reflection in front of you "you look gorgeous," he said coming up behind you and kissing your neck "but we aren't done yet" he dangled a green dress in front of you "so you get the rest of you ready while I get myself ready okay?" he said sitting himself down at the vanity and you jumped up and down enthusiastically grabbing the dress and pleaser heels he placed down for you and moving the wig out of your face.

About an hour later you were both fully ready

"meet my photographer," he said bringing you to the back of the dorms where Mr Aizawa was standing lazily checking his phone "MR AIZAWA IS YOUR PHOTOGRAPHER? How does he let you get away with those photo's" you whispered the last part asking yourself more than him and he shrugged "cmon after this we're going to a show" he smiled and pulled you over with him in front of the camera "Kiri can we do this like all the time?" you asked while your teacher photographer set up the camera "of course pumpkin". This would be the best photo in his book yet.

A/n: I wanted to make kiri a drag queen so I did

[whittakerjodie]

Haircut (13th Doctor X Reader)

Prompt: Cutting 13′s hair (requested by MEEEE) 

A/N: I’ve had this prompt for a long time but when I saw the video of Jodie in 13′s costume with long hair I knew I HAD to jump into action so here it is! 

Words: 2.4k 

Warnings: extreme fluff, mentions of cutting hair and scissors I guess? not my gif, thank u to the queen legend for finding one for me

For several days, you’d been noticing the Doctor’s discomfort. It wasn’t extreme, but it was prominent enough for you to ask her: 

“You alright?” She was brushing her hair behind her ear with a scronch of irritation, bottom lip pouting outward slightly. It was the 8th time in 5 minutes that she had repeated the action, a ritual that carried on nearly every hour of every day. 

Her hair was just past her shoulders now, a great difference from her usual chin-length cut. You supposed that the events in Gallifrey and in prison had caused the timelord to let go of herself a little bit, putting aside trivial things like haircuts. But now that things were returning to normal (or, as normal as they could be) she was starting to grow back into herself and you could tell it was bothering her. 

“I’m fine,” She mumbled. The reason why she kept brushing her hair out of her face was because she was bent over a random piece of machinery that she had pulled out of the depths of the TARDIS. Turning the pages of your book when appropriate, you glanced up at her ever so often to check in on her progress. If you didn’t, she would lose herself in that too and would likely forget to eat or sleep for a while. 

Sighing, you returned back to your book, reminding yourself to suggest a hair appointment when the Doctor got done with her current fixation. However, not three minutes later, when she groaned obnoxiously and began smoothing her hair back with the oil she was keeping by her side, you knew you had to intervene. Especially when she reached for the scissors next. 

“Doctor! What the hell are you doing?” She paused, holding a long lock of hair out in front of her so she could peek up at it through her lashes. Her tongue was worked between her teeth and the scissors were a milimeter away from severing the hair from her head without any caution. She pouted and dropped the utensil, letting it clatter to the floor. 

“It keeps getting in the way.” 

“Well… we’ve got a time machine. Why don’t you just take yourself to a salon?” 

“I’m workingggg” She whined. She hunched over the machine for a moment, hugging it tightly. When she noticed the golden locks were falling all over her face again she lurched backward with a groan. “Shouldn’t have let it get this long. Completely ridiculous. Always… tickling my neck, getting in my face, existing.” 

“Doctor, just get a haircut. It’s fine if you don’t want to go to a salon right now, but clearly that's the only thing that’ll fix this. Hell, I’ll do it if you want one so bad.” 

The Doctor, who was pouring more oil into her hands to lather onto her scalp and trap her hair in place, paused, eyebrows raising. “Really?” 

You chuckled slightly, nervously shifting on your feet. When you’d said you would do it, you meant it as a way to encourage her to do something about it. You didn’t expect her to take you up on it. But, despite your lack of expertise and experience, you could feel your walls breaking down at the excitement in the Doctor’s eyes, sparkling and making her smile. 

“Yeah!” You said with forced confidence. “Why not? Just… please put that oil down.” 

The Doctor looked down at her hands and, as if just realizing how ridiculous her actions were, quickly grabbed a dirty paper towel from her giant pile and began wiping the substance off. There were still globs of it in her hair from her previous attempts at subduing it, and you realized the haircut was going to take a lot more effort than you thought. 

++++++++++++

While you waited for the Doctor to come in to the bathroom, you folded up a towel, setting it on the edge of the tub that you’d managed to find in one of the TARDIS’ many rooms. First and foremost, you had to wash the oil out of her hair and clean things up before you snipped it to her desired length. She was taking ages, so you pulled out your phone and started watching youtube videos on haircutting. The TARDIS, friendly and helpful as it was, began printing out tutorial papers from a newly created printer on the bathroom counter. 

“Printer in the loo? That’s new” The Doctor mumbled. You looked over to acknowledge her, heart briefly ceasing. She had shed her long coat and thick jumper, instead wearing a well fitting tank top. Not only was it unexpected, as the Doctor had never worn something such as it before, but it caught you off guard because she looked so good in it. She grabbed up the papers from the printer, smiling. 

“I figured you hadn’t done this before,” your cheeks warmed and you offered her a sheepish smile as she lowered herself to the floor, carefully setting her neck against the towel you’d prepared for her. When she saw your nervousness she smiled, handing you the shampoo she always used. “It’s alright. More fun that way!” 

“Yeah, I suppose.” The TARDIS dropped the shower head for you, and you picked it up, making sure the water was warm by letting it run against your palm. The Doctor let her eyes fall shut and for a moment you were distracted, watching her peacefully rest and wait for you to act. When steam started to rise and set against the walls of the shower you brought the water towards her hair, letting it wet the ends first before running it against her scalp. 

She sighed, relaxing as the warm water cascaded across her head, some of the oil dripping onto the shower floor with ease. After two minutes, you set the shower head down, letting the TARDIS do the work of turning the water off. Then, you grabbed the Doctor’s shampoo bottle, curiously smelling it. It was a strong vanilla, the intensity nearly knocking you out. You quickly squirted some of the shampoo into your hand, taking a deep breath. So, the Doctor’s hair always smelled strongly of vanilla; It was a fact that you selfishly pocketed for later thinking.

Working the shampoo over your hand for a moment, you watched as the Doctor opened one of her eyes to watch you curiously. When she saw you staring back, it shut tightly, before relaxing as your fingers began to massage the lather into her locks. She sighed again, the lines in her face easing into obscurity as you carried out the task of removing the oil out of her hair. 

It took roughly 3 washes before every trace of it was eliminated, not that you or the Doctor were complaining. The time lord seemed perfectly happy to let you take care of her in such a way, and you were even more pleased to have the opportunity to do so. Finally, you gave her one last rinse and gently squeezed most of the water out, reaching for another towel so you could wrap it around her head. 

She sat up, then immediately fell backward onto the towel, hissing. “Okay, that hurts. Shouldn’t have sat up so quickly.” 

You laughed as she rubbed at her neck, trying to convince it to function properly after sitting stationary against the hard surface of the tub for so long. She laughed with you, and you began organizing the next materials you needed.  

“Ready?” 

“Don’t even need to ask. The sooner we can fix this mop, the better.” Another laugh broke past your lips and you moved the towel from the edge of the tub so you could sit down. Then, you gestured to her to sit between your legs, reminding yourself that it was for practical purposes only. She accepted the invitation, her back resting against your stomach. 

The butterflies fluttering through your system caused your fingers to slip and you nearly dropped the scissors on the floor. When everything was as it should be you quickly skimmed over the tutorial papers, sectioning off the top part of the Doctor’s hair. In the mirror, she looked a little silly with the clip holding a clump of her hair at the top of her head. The two of you shared a small smile and you clasped a bit of hair between your fingers, holding it up. 

“How many inches do you want taken off?” 

“However many it takes to get it backup to my chin. I like that length. Last time I let it get this long was in my 8th body and even then it didn’t last long. Chin length is good because it can frame your face while also-” 

She paused, staring at the hair that had fallen to the floor. Your eyes widened, gripping the scissors tighter, wondering if she was suddenly regretting what had begun. But then she blinked. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you’d started. Carry on.” You sighed in relief and she continued on, rambling about her different hair preferences in each body. 

“And then, towards the end of my tenth, it stopped getting spiky so easily! The nerve of the universe, can you believe it?” You shook your head, but you barely absorbed what she’d said. You were intently focused on the hair that you were slowly snipping away, not wanting- not daring to mess up in anyway. She was trusting you with this. Although you knew she wouldn’t care much about a mistake (or notice, given her lackluster grooming habits) there was a high level of responsibility that you carried along with the scissors. 

After ten minutes, you’d managed to trim the bottom section equally so that it lined up perfectly with the height of her chin. She’d stopped rambling 6 minutes in, realizing that the movement of her mouth and her usual animation was making the task harder for you. In the place of talking, she was watching you via the mirror, smiling and winking whenever you caught her eye. 

“Feels loads better already” She commented as you released the clip, sending the top section tumbling downward. It was a little dry by now, so you added some water to keep it damp enough to cut properly. The outcome of the bottom section equipped you with a previously inaccessible confidence, and your hands no longer trembled when you moved to keep cutting. Another 15 minutes past and the floor around the timelord was littered with her discarded hair. You set down the scissors, grabbing a comb so that you could brush out any tangles or stray hairs that had refused to fall to the floor. The Doctor was grinning, and the second the comb left the surface of her scalp she was running her fingers across it, embracing her familiar look. 

“Brilliant!” She gasped. Watching her jump up and look closer in the mirror, pulling at her hair and examining it, pride washed over you. Nothing felt better than a job well done. Admittedly, you were sad it was over; you wanted to keep tending to her hair, or at the very least, remain as close to her as you had during the process.  Eyes roaming over the counter-top, an idea popped into your head. 

“We still have to dry it and everything, unless you want to wait?” The Doctor nodded and grabbed the device, setting it in your hands gently and returning to her spot between your legs, crossing her legs and hands fiddling excitedly. You smiled. Now that her hair was back to it’s less irritating style, you could tell that she was buzzing with the urge to return to her work. 

You grabbed a brush and held it in your left hand, pulling it through her hair and aiming the warm blasts of air from the hair dryer at the strands, curling the brush when you got to the ends to give it a bit more volume. At some point the TARDIS had brought the Doctor some custard creams, and she munched on them happily as you finished drying her hair. 

She grabbed one from the packet and held it behind her. You accepted it, unplugging the dryer and sighing happily as you ate the tasty treat. The Doctor didn’t move. Instead, she got more comfortable, setting her arms on your thighs so she could relax more. Finished eating the cookie, you found yourself with nothing to do but feel rather embarrassed and giddy, thanking your past self for whatever good karma they’d built up for you to be so blessed in this moment. 

“Y/n?” She asked. You raised a brow, fist clenching slightly. Did she think you were being weird, sitting like this? But she had leaned in to you… “Can you play with my hair for a bit?” 

Oh, yeah, you were definitely cashing out all your good karma somehow. Nodding, you ran your fingers over her part with a ghost-like touch, then spread the fingers out and moved them over her hair until they met at the nape of her neck. She shuddered, pausing her eating for a moment. When you started moving your fingers in slow circles she smiled slightly, and you pondered her expression. It was calm and relaxed, as expected, but there was a hint of relief tying it all together. 

How long had it been since someone had treated her like this? Since someone held her like this? How long had she been silently waiting to ask you- or anyone, really- to be this close to her? Being able to do so no longer felt like just a privilege, but a responsibility you knew you had to take seriously. When the Doctor shifted, you realized your thoughts had caused your fingers to still. You blinked and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around the Doctor, holding her tightly. 

She gasped, staring at your arms as if to make sure they were real. You hid your face in her neck so that she couldn’t see your nervousness, but you were sure she could feel it in the way your arms were trembling. Her hands pressed against them, holding them tighter to her, as she couldn’t hug you properly in her position. 

“What’s this for?” She whispered, head leaning against yours. 

“Does it have to be for something?” You murmured against her skin. 

“Suppose not…” She replied, with a slight wobble to her voice. “Thank you” 

“Anytime, Doctor.”

[flyinbanachab]

Comfortember 11: Board Game

(note: this is a wildcard substitute for the prompt PTSD)

(also note: Twilight Imperium is an extremely real board game.)

---

11:03 AM Hughes slammed a briefcase down on the conference room table with a wicked glint in his eye. Breda raised his eyebrows.

"This game needs a whole suitcase?"

"You didn't read the rules, did you?" Hughes gave him an exasperated look as he popped the latches. Inside was a carefully packed mass of cards, counters, tiles, and colorful pewter spaceships.

Keep reading on AO3 or...

"Yeah about that. I was gonna, but it's the size of a goddamn novel and I had actual work to do."

Hughes straightened up and crossed his arms. "No playing unless you've read the rules. That's the first rule."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Get started. If you're a fast reader you'll finish before I'm done with setup, though you might forfeit your choice of species."

"...my what."

"Twilight Imperium is a game of galactic conquest!" Falman jumped in. "Each player is a different alien faction, with their own strengths and weaknesses. Your strategy should change depending on which species you play."

Breda, pretending not to be intrigued by this, picked up one of the instruction manuals and retreated to a corner. He grumbled, "Aliens. Sounds like a real thinkin man's game. Yessir, a real grownup game for grownups."

Hughes started laying out a starfield of hexagonal tiles. "I figured we'd use one of the tutorial layouts, since there's so many new players."

Mustang began pulling stacks of cards from the suitcase and sorting them into piles; he's clearly played before. "I can't believe this is really how you want to spend your free day out east."

"Hey," Hughes gave him a sheepish smile. "You know how hard it is to get an eight-player game together! Plus, this way I don't have to feel guilty about asking Gracia to keep Elicia out of the way for a whole day."

At this, Hawkeye looked concerned. "Is this really a twelve-hour game?"

Hughes shrugged. "Can be. There's a lot going on, and a lot of players. It's faster," he added pointedly, "if everyone reads the rules first. Don't worry, we'll take breaks."

Rebecca Catalina leaned over Hughes' shoulder, pulled a piece out of the suitcase and holds it up for inspection. It's a pewter spaceship, painted yellow. "Wow, look at the guns on this thing. Nyyoooom pew pew pew!"

Hughes plucked it from her hand and returned it to the pile of yellow pieces. "Please do not separate the pieces."

Catalina pouted. "Riza said this would be FUN."

"This will NOT if pieces go missing. Okay everyone-- time to pick your your faction." He handed a pile of dossiers to Mustang, who flipped directly to one, setting it in front of him and passing the rest. Hughes looked at him over the top of his glasses.

"The Embers of Muaat? Really?"

"What?" Mustang sounded defensive.

"You know what."

Rebecca elbowed Falman, who she’d determined to be the non-Hughes person likeliest to give her answers. "What was that about?"

But Hughes answered first. "They're literally made of fire. A little on the nose, don't you think?"

Mustang scowled. "I want my war sun, dammit."

Havoc chose next: "The Nekro Virus? Fuck yeah, that sounds badass!"

"Are you sure? That's a pretty advanced play style..." Hughes cautions.

"E-vil ro-bots, e-vil ro-bots!" Havoc chants.

"Fine, have fun. Fuery?" 

"Uh, I think I'll take the Arborec."

"Oh, space fungus? Interesting choice. Falman?"

"The universities of Jol-Nar."

"Oh good, someone's playing the nerds. Can't wait to see how your tech stacks against Roy's war suns. Hawkeye?"

"Hmm..." She flipped through the remaining choices. "The Federation of Sol."

Havoc is aghast. "All these cool aliens and you pick human? Booooring."

"Hey, let the lady play who she wants. Sol's a great choice. Catalina?"

Catalina held a dossier in the air labeled Xxcha. "The ChaChaCha!"

Hughes scowled. "It's pronounced "Shhhcha."

"The reverend ambassador of the ChaChaCha respectfully disagrees, and would appreciate it if you'd take the time to learn their name."

"You're going to be like this all day, aren't you."

"Obviously!"   

Hughes sighed and pulled a dossier for himself. "I'll be the L1Z1X Mindset. Slightly less evil robots. Breda? You're done with time out, come pick your faction." There weren't many left.

"Mentak," he announced with a smirk. Hughes groaned.

"You would."

Catalina elbowed Falman again. "What's wrong with Mentak?" She stage whispered.

"The Mentak Coalition are space pirates. They steal trade goods from other players."

Catalina considered this for a moment, then batted her eyelashes at Breda. "You won't steal from ME though, right? We are but simple space turtles."

Breda just looked at her. “Never,” he deadpanned.

"Alright alright, everyone find your home worlds on the board and take your seat accordingly. Pick a color and get all your pieces..."

2:42 PM Hughes dropped a token onto Mustang's home world. Gasps and whoops erupted from around the room.

"Ohhh shit, it's happening!" Havoc howled.

Hughes glared daggers at Mustang. "Yeah, it's happening." He began moving his ships onto Mustang’s tile from all over the board. There wasn't enough room on it, seeing as how it was already overflowing with Mustang's ships--though, notably, crucially, not a war sun-- so Hughes lined them up on the bare wood of the table, each one very deliberately pointing its guns toward Muaat. Mustang jumped to his feet, angrily snatching dice off the table. Hughes stood to match. The rest of the table scrambled to their feet and gathered in behind them to see how the rolls would land.

"Space cannons," Mustang growled, flinging dice onto the table. 4:12 PM Havoc deliberated over which strategy card to pick.

"Mustang's going for Mecatol," Breda growled. "We gotta stop him."

"What? I'm not stupid," Mustang protested. "Look, you're all within range. No way you'd let me keep it. Not worth trying. I'm just sitting NEAR Mecatol for a little bit, for a different objective."

"Bullshit. Everyone knows that's bullshit, right? You can see it in his eyes."

"I'm not, I swear!"

Havoc looked back and forth between them and picked up Warfare, passing the pile of open options to Hawkeye.

Breda crossed his arms. "Then you won't mind if I take Imperial this round."

"Wh-what?" Mustang looked around the table, pleading his case. "This is a setup! He just wants to claim two objectives this round! Look, he's already ahead a point, we can't let him gain a lead like that."

Hawkeye, the barest ghost of a smile on her face, quietly placed the Imperial card in front of her and passed the remainder to Falman. Mustang and Breda both gasped.

"Hawkeye, no!" Mustang pleaded.

"Yeaaaah, get em Riza!" Catalina cheered. "All hail the queen!" 6:35 PM "Come on Fuery. What'll it take for you to vote for me?" Hughes asked. "Here. A promissory note-- a victory point in exchange for your influence."

"That would definitely decide the vote," Falman said, quickly doing the math in his head.

Catalina leaned in on an elbow, causing the v-neck of her blouse to puddle in a very interesting way. "Hey, I'll give you a promissory note AND 3 trade goods if you vote for me."

Fuery looked from Catalina to Hughes, unimpressed. "There's still another agenda after this," he said, adjusting his glasses. “Why should I spend all my influence now?”

"Don't give it to Hughes," Breda groaned. "He doesn't need an advantage."

"What are you talking about, I only have six points!"

"Uh huh, and I intend to keep it that way. Fuery, vote for Catalina and I won't steal from you, rest of the game."

"Give it to Becca and she's going to destroy me next turn," Havoc pleaded.

Fuery turned to Havoc and gave him a slow smirk. "What's it worth to you?" 8:49 PM Time to score the round. Breda, Mustang, and Falman all had 8 points; Hughes and Fuery had 7; Catalina had 6; Riza and Havoc trailed at 5. This could be the end of the game; first person to ten won, and it was technically possible to score 3 points right now. The room held its collective breath as Hughes proctored the scoring in its appointed order.

"Havoc?"

"Yeah, I can spend the resources," he said, doing so, gaining one point.

"Any secret objectives?"

"I wish."

Hughes moved on. "Catalina?"

She nodded, a tense smile on her face. "I'm spending my tokens for 2 points."

"Secrets?"

She flipped over a card with a smile. "Yes."

"Fuck," Mustang said. Suddenly Catalina was in the lead, one point from victory. Of course, she couldn't possibly win for another round.

"Falman?"

All eyes were on him. This could be it. They could see he didn't have enough resources, tokens, or influence to claim any of the open two-point objectives, but what was in his stack of secret objectives?

"Yes, I control 3 planets with technology specialties."

"What?" Hughes was surprised, looking at the starfield. "Oh, sure as shit. How'd we let that happen?" That was only worth one point though; now he and Catalina were tied at nine.

"Any secret objectives?"

Falman wordlessly turned over a card.

The room burst into a mix of curses and cheers. Mustang pushed back from the table hard enough to knock his chair over.

"Dammit! I had the points!" Breda groused, throwing his secret objectives onto the table.

"Good game, Falman," Hawkeye congratulated him.

"Yeah," Hughes grudgingly agreed, "Well played. This was really close though, look at that board." He then pulled a sheet of paper from the depths of the suitcase: a record of dates, players, and final scores. "Anybody got a pen?"

The players began sorting the mass of cards, tokens, and pieces back into their starting piles. Some hands were still shaky with adrenaline.

"Thanks for bringing this!" Fuery said. "It was a lot of fun."

Hughes grinned. "Yeah, it was. Same time next year?"

[latestageyouth]

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 6 - literally just a bleaching hair tutorial

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, a spider, hair bleaching, swearing, implied bad childhood? (let me know if I missed something)

summary: Virgil helps Remus finally do something with that bird's nest he calls hair and oops angst happens

A few sharp knocks sounded the window. Virgil looked up from his laptop, widening his eyes at the figure behind the glass, which waved him. Virgil rolled his eyes and took off his headphone, walking over to the window and opening it, letting Remus in.

'Why didn't you just walk through the front door?', Virgil questioned.

"Eh, this is more fun," Remus shrugged, looking around the room. He stopped and squealed when he saw the terrarium where Susan was, making a web. He went closer to the terrarium, cooing at the tarantula. Virgil raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. Remus turned his head to look at him, "Sorry not sorry, Susie is just too cute to resist."

Virgil opened his mouth to question the nickname but found himself unable to speak. Oh, of course, how could he forget. He looked away from a second before shaking it off, signing to Remus, 'True'. He crossed his arms and walked closer to Remus.

Remus straightened himself, "So, why am I here again? You wanna hook up or somethin'?"

The taller rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile. He walked over to a table where his computer was, along with other things such as empty glasses or crumbled paper. Virgil picked up a box of powdered hair bleach and waved it at Remus.

Remus widened his eyes a little, but the expression soon changed into an intrigued one, "Oh? What are you gonna do? Bleach my pubes?"

Virgil tried so hard to not throw the box at him, he really did. But he didn't entirely trust himself so instead, he put it down, he needed those hands to sign anyways, 'You always complain about wanting to dye your hair'.

"And you know how to do it?"

Virgil gestured to his black hair with purple in it.

"Touché. So are we gonna do it now, or?" Remus smirked slightly as Virgil nodded, picking up the box and walking out of his room. Remus waited for him for a few seconds, before Virgil stuck his head back into the room and gestured for him to follow. Virgil led him into a bathroom with a big mirror above the sink. There was a chair placed in front of it, which Virgil led him to sit on. He watched as Virgil placed the bleach on the edge of the sink and went to grab some other things from the cabinet next to the door. On the sink, he placed a "developer" from what Remus read on the label, whatever-the-hell that was, a mixing bowl and a mixing brush. He gestured for Remus to stay as he went out of the bathroom, presumingly to find other things he needed, and who was Remus to argue, he never bleached his hair before.

It wasn't long before Virgil returned, this time with rubber gloves on and carrying a measuring spoon and tin foil, setting the foil down. He opened the bleach and scooped a spoonful of it, pouring it into the mixing bowl. He set the spoon down and poured the developer into the bowl, mixing it together with a mixing brush. Remus watched all of it in the mirror, "You, uh, you sure you know what you're doing?" Virgil made eye contact with him through the mirror. He smiled at Remus, nodding. Remus nodded back, feeling more sure, "Okay."

Virgil put the mixing bowl down to sign, 'Where do you want to bleach it?

"Uh, I dunno..." he touched the tips of his hair softly, thinking, "Maybe my tips?"

'Are you sure?'

Remus nodded, "Yes I'm fucking sure. Aren't you the one who came up with this in the first place?"

Virgil rolled his eyes and walked in front of Remus, taking the brush and dipping it in the bowl. He took the tin foil and ripped a piece off. He took Remus' hand, at which the man in question flinched, and guided it to hold a chunk of his hair mashed into a bun on top of his head. Remus felt strangely sad when Virgil took his hand off of his, taking a chunk of the hair on his back and laying it against a piece of tin foil. He began adding the bleach onto the tips, bleaching roughly four or five inches but focusing mainly on the bottom. Remus soon found the strange feeling replaced with the thrill of doing something new. The process was repeated around eight more times before the bottom layer of the hair was covered in tin foil. Of course, Remus' arm began to hurt, "Are you done yet?" he whined.

Virgil shook his head absent-mindedly, finishing the last piece of hair that remained. Finally, Virgil wrapped the last of the bottom hair and gave Remus a thumbs up in the mirror. Remus let his hair fall down with a relief filled sigh, shaking his hand, "Shit, you have no idea how fucking hurt can you get by not doing anything."

Virgil let out a breathy laugh, though making almost no sound. Remus found it weird at first, like someone put a tv on mute, but eventually got used to it. At least now he didn't stare at Virgil when he laughed, Remus didn't even stare because he found him weird he just liked looking at Virgil laughing, as it didn't happen very often.

Remus took one of the foils into his hand, "So, how long 'til I get these off?"

Virgil looked up in thought, 'About forty minutes,' at that, Remus groaned. Virgil raised an eyebrow, 'What did you expect? 2 minutes?'

Remus looked away, "I mean yeah, kinda."

Virgil facepalmed. Remus laughed at the action, standing up, "So, is Picani here? I haven't seen him. What did you do? Did you kill him?"

Virgil shook his head as if it was a serious question, 'It's parent-teacher conference today, remember?'

Remus snorted, "Oh, yeah, shit. Mom's gonna be pissed as fuck. I mean, she's always pissed after parent-teachers, so..." he trailed off, looking up at Virgil.

'What do you wanna do now?', Virgil signed awkwardly.

The shorter shrugged, "I dunno, man, it's your house, you choose...or should I?"

'Please don't,'Virgil seemed to think for a minute, ignoring Remus' chuckling, 'Have you watched Zombieland?'

"No, what's that?"

Virgil widened his eyes, 'Are you serious?'

Remus pouted, "Yeah, what is it? Is it some kind of porn?"

The taller rolled his eyes, taking Remus by the hand and leading him to the living room. The strange feeling Remus had before had returned, somewhere in the back of his mind the word he was searching for to describe it, but Remus couldn't reach it. His chest felt tighter than usual, almost like Virgil was squeezing it. What was this feeling, Remus didn't know, but guesses it had something to do with the fact that he didn't eat anything all day. Yeah, now that he thought about it, he was really hungry. Dee would probably lecture him about his eating habits if he was here.

Virgil seated Remus on the couch in the living room, going to look through the stack of DVDs next to the tv. He finally settled on one, which Remus assumed was the one he and Virgil talked about a moment ago. He placed in on the DVD player under the tv, then got up and walked into the kitchen. Remus used that time to look around the room. It was...very neutral, if Remus had to be nice about it. But he didn't have to, so it was pretty fucking boring. The wallpaper was light beige. The couch was beige. The carpet was beige. Remus started to hate beige. At least the floor was dark brown. He noticed a few photographs on the wall next to the big wooden bookshelf. It had mostly Picani and Virgil in it, but one photograph stood out. It was of what Remus assumed was a young Picani, maybe around 15? He's poking his tongue out, along with some brown-haired woman. Remus walked closer to the photograph to take a good look at her. She was pale, very much like Virgil. Her curly hair was going past her shoulders, stopping shortly below. Her icy blue eyes were the same colour as one of Virgil's eyes. Behind the hair, Remus noticed a patch of skin darker than the rest, going up to her jaw.

Slam.

Virgil yanked the photo off the wall, walking over to the trash can and dropping it in harshly. He turned to go back to the kitchen, a kitchen pass-through making it possible for Remus to still see him.

"I uh, I- I'm sorry."

Virgil didn't reach, his expression shifting from irritated to neutral. He drank the water he poured himself.

Remus looked at the empty spot in the middle of the wall, "Look, dude, I didn't know...whatever the hell the business with that chick you have. Like, I guess it's Picani's wife or some-"

"Stop."

Remus widened his eyes at the quiet brittle voice, just on the edge of his hearing, obviously sore from not speaking for a long time. Virgil seemed to be the second to realize, widening his eyes before shaking it off.

He reached into the freezer and pulled out two tubs of strawberry and mint ice cream. Remus didn't bring up the obvious elephant in the room, instead forcing on a smile and walking over to grab two spoons from the dishware drawer. It wasn't long before the two were settled on the couch under a blanket, leaning against each other while eating ice cream. Virgil was silent, as always. Remus made comments through the whole movie, well, not whole obviously, he didn't want his precious hair to fry off.

He shoved the spoon full of ice cream into his mouth, "Shit, bro, Wichita and Little Rock really did that. We stan illegal queens," Virgil tapped his shoulder, "What'cha want, emo?" the man in question pointed to his foil-wrapped hair, "Oh, right, I forgot."

He set the tub down and went to the bathroom, waiting for Virgil to follow, but instead was met with signing, 'You can wash it yourself,' at which Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, okay," he hesitantly walked to the bathroom, glancing at Virgil before shutting the door.

Virgil sighed heavily, leaning against the sofa. He put hands on his face. At least he avoided more awkwardness. Emile is gonna be back soon, just a...what's the time again? Virgil checked his phone, good, just a few minutes now. Just a few minutes of awkwardly sitting through the movie until Emile comes home. Just a few minutes. Virgil didn't notice the water stopped running.

"Well, how do I look?"

Virgil glanced at Remus leaning against the door frame, hair still wet even though Remus had a damp towel in his hand. The tips of his hair bleached, blending together nicely with his naturally dark brown hair. Maybe Virgil was biased because he did that, but it looked beautiful on him, even with the wet hair. Virgil gave Remus thumbs up, smiling tensely.

"Damn right, I look so fuckable!" Remus looked in the mirror in the hallway proudly and Virgil couldn't help but let out a soundless laugh.

[ineffably-good]

Faeted (Good Omens AU)

Summary:  Ezra fell is an English professor at a prestigious academy for boys. Crowley is the lord of the Unseelie court in the lands without sunrise or moonfall. Somehow fate will bring them together.

Excerpt:  “That’s the only part that concerns you?” Ezra exclaimed. “My heart’s desire is apparently a large reptile and you’re just concerned about the laws of magic?”

Read it on AO3!

Chapter One

Ezra Fell laid down his chalk and turned to face the twelve teenage boys in his care. Twelve bodies ensconced in navy blazers jittered in barely concealed anticipation; twelve pairs of eyes jumped between him and the clock on the wall, ticking loudly as the last minutes of Friday lecture faded away.

There was no competing with the weekend, even at a school as prestigious as St. Aloysius Academy.

“Yes, yes, all right,” he sighed. “I expect you all to read the next section of the Faerie Queen for Monday, and to complete your permission slips for next week’s field trip.”

The bell clanged and the room was suddenly awash with the screeching sounds of chairs being pushed back and students exploding into motion.

“Class dismissed,” he called futilely, over the chaos.

Ezra sighed and wiped the chalk dust from his hands as he returned to his desk and began to straighten up his papers. There was a knock at the door and he smiled to see Miss Device, his friend and the resident art teacher, standing in the doorway. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a braid and there were tiny bits of paint speckled on her glasses and her cheek. She still wore the smock she’d placed over her dress to protect it from her students’ creative endeavors.

“Survived another week, did you?” she asked with a grin.

“Indeed I did, my dear,” Ezra replied. “And you? Still employed I assume?”

“So it seems,” she said. “So that’s a score of two for us, zero for the urchins. We just might get through this term yet. Supper at the pub at seven?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.”

Anathema sketched a little wave and disappeared around the corner towards her own room.

Read it on AO3!

--

Ezra gathered his things into his leather satchel and made his way outside. It was a beautiful fall day, and the air was crisp and bracing. He stretched in the angled sunlight for a moment and then headed off towards his home.

He passed through the school gates and enjoyed the walk for another twelve minutes before he found himself arriving at his own doorstep – a small, tidy, whitewashed cottage, just the right size for one. Many of the instructors at the academy lived on campus with the students, but Ezra valued his privacy and his quiet reading time too much for that; he’d felt lucky to find and purchase his own modest little home so close to the school when he’d been hired on five years ago.

He stopped to collect his post and examine the flowers in his front window box, and then let himself in with a contented sigh and immediately set about putting a kettle on to boil. Time for tea.

The clock over the mantel showed that he had a little over two hours before he needed to meet Anathema. With a happy wriggle, he carried his tea over to his favorite arm chair in front of the fire, sat down, and picked up the copy of The Mabinogion he’d been reading. It took him just a moment to find his place, and then the world disappeared as he was lost in tales of pre-Arthurian Britain.

--

Anathema was waiting for him when he parked his bicycle outside the pub later that evening. She waved to him from their usual table in the front window and he noted she had two pints ready for them.

“So, what were you reading that made you late this time?” Anathema asked.

“Oh, doing some background research on old Celtic and British legends,” Ezra answered. “Faeries and mounds and elfshot and fairy stroke and what have you. Fascinating stuff! I’m taking the boys out to visit a few sites on Monday afternoon and want to give them context.”

Anathema nodded. “Faeries,” she said solemnly, “are not generally the nice little creatures that people like to imagine. They are dangerous and unpredictable and not to be taken lightly.”

Ezra examined her closely. “In literature, you mean,” he said pointedly.

“Whatever makes you happy,” she said with an ambiguous smile.

“I know you believe in magic, of course, but are you telling me you believe in the fair folk too?”

Anathema shrugged and took a long drink from her pint. It left a bit of foam on her lip that she licked off before answering. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Ezra tutted at her fussily. “Now, now, using Shakespeare to win an argument with an English professor is completely unfair.”

“Who ever said I play fair?”

“Indeed,” Ezra said with a fond smile. “I keep forgetting that.”

They turned their attention to food, then to sharing the latest gossip from their respective departments as the munched on their fish and chips.

“What is your coven up to tonight, then?” Ezra asked pleasantly.

“Oh, you know. Preparing for the larger gathering next week. Scrying.”

“What are you scrying for?”

She shrugged. “It varies from person to person. Glimpses of the future. The face of your one true love. The essay question that will appear on next week’s exam.”

He laughed. “And you find that this works?”

“Well maybe not for essay questions,” she said with a wink. “Although if the will is strong, anything is possible.”

She stopped and looked at him more closely.

“Oh now, don’t start, my dear,” he protested, knowing what was coming.

“You should come join us,” she said. It was an old refrain and quite possibly the hundredth time she’d brought this up.

“My dear, covens are for women,” Ezra said primly.

“No, they aren’t,” she said. “We are an equal opportunity coven. And you’d fit right in.”

“Perhaps some other time,” he said, signaling for another round of pints.

“Really, Ezra. We’ve got a few men who work with us regularly. And with your powers of concentration and imagination, you’d be a natural.” She peered at him. “What’s the harm in giving it a chance?”

Ezra had to think about that one. Born into a conservative and very rich family, he’d long since abandoned his family’s religious beliefs and instead devoted himself to a life of the mind and the senses. He considered himself an open minded man, and didn’t mind at all that his closest friend considered herself a practicing witch. But to try it himself?

Anathema leaned forward and prepared to break out the big guns. “Really Ezra,” she said. “Where’s your academic curiosity?”

She sat back and tried not to grin while she watched that comment land.

He huffed in mock disgust. “You,” he said, shaking a finger, “are a menace. You are an American menace, come to Great Britain to corrupt the souls of our young.”

She continued to grin smugly at him, one eyebrow coolly raised.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he said. “I’m not coming to your coven. But perhaps you can show me something about how scrying works, after dinner. I do admit to some curiosity about the process.”

Anathema made a fist pumping gesture, which Ezra primly ignored.

--

“Do you have some ink?” Anathema asked as they entered the cottage.

Ezra gave her a stern look and gestured around him at the overflow of books, papers, notebooks, and pens lying on every possible surface. “What do you think?” he asked. “Of course I have ink!”

“Grab it,” she said, “and a pitcher of fresh water, and a silver spoon if you have one, and meet me in the back garden.”

“No niceties? No sitting down for a biscuit first?” he teased.

“I’ve got a coven to get to in an hour,” she said, pushing her glasses back up on her nose. “If you want a little tutorial, we’ve got to do it now.”

Ezra set about gathering the items she’d asked for, placing them carefully on a wooden tray, and then stopped and added a few biscuits on a plate too, just in case someone got peckish.

When he emerged in the backyard, he found Anathema had upended the brackish water and leaves out of his old, stone birdbath and wiped it as clean as she could with just her hands, and then had pushed and pulled it out of its usual corner beneath the plum tree into a spot where it was open to the sky above.

“It’s actually a beautiful night for scrying,” she said. “Nice bright moon, no wind…”

“Oh lovely,” Ezra said, a tad sarcastically.

She punched him lightly in the arm. “You asked for a lesson in scrying. Don’t be a bastard.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, smoothing his face into a more agreeable expression. “What do we do?”

“First pour the water into the bowl,” she said, indicating the birdbath. “And then add a few drops of ink to make it darken. Then stir it with the silver spoon, three times clockwise.””

He did so.

“Now,” she said firmly, “it’s mostly about your intention at this point.”

“My intention?”

“What do you want to see?” she asked. “You don’t have to tell me, but think of a question in your mind, as clearly as you can, and focus on it while you take deep breaths and calm yourself.”

Ezra sat back and thought. What did he want to know? He thought about asking it to show him his family and what they were doing, but he wasn’t really interested in that, to be honest. His parents were undoubtedly at some fancy fund raiser, as that was how they spent most of their weekends, and his older brother was undoubtedly preparing for tomorrow’s sermon at his swanky parish. None of them were thinking about him and seeing them would just point out how hopelessly different their lives were from his.

Did he want to know about the possibility of love or romance? To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure. He’d never had a strong feeling that love and romance were for him. He hadn’t ever really met anyone who evinced a strong interest in him, other than the occasional school crush on an older boy or two. These interests were passing and short, and he’d found himself mostly content with his life alone. He had his books, and his students, and a few good friends. It wasn’t out of the question that cupid could encounter him someday, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“I don’t know what to ask for,” he finally admitted.

Anathema studied him quietly. “Why don’t you ask it to show you what you most need to see?”

He straightened up and smiled. “Why, my dear, that’s a perfect solution. Nice and open, difficult to misinterpret. I do like to be precise.” He closed his eyes and took a series of long, slow breaths. He concentrated on that statement, repeating it over and over. Show me what I most need to see. Show me what I most need to see. Show me what I most need to see.

After a few minutes, he felt calm and centered, and he opened his eyes to look at Anathema, who was watching him closely.

“Lean forward,” she said, “and look into the water. Keep breathing and try to relax, and just wait.”

“That’s it?” he asked doubtfully.

“That’s all it takes,” she said.

He placed a hand on either side of the cold stone basin and leaned forward to stare at the reflection of the moon in the dark, inky water. Nothing happened for several minutes. There was only his face, watery and distorted, and the reflection of the moon, wobbling a little as gentle ripples made their way out from the center of the pool. He realized he was holding the edges of the basin with a death grip and tried to loosen his hands a little, letting the tension flow out of him.

He took a deep steadying breath and leaned in a little further, still repeating the words in his head, and suddenly the image in the water shifted, into a pair of golden, snake-like eyes that blinked at him in surprise and then darkened in alarm. He had a brief impression of hair like flames and a sense of agitation as the eyes leaned closer towards the surface and then — disappeared.

Ezra leapt back as if the bird bath had bitten him.

“What did you see?” Anathema asked, taking in his breathless surprise.

“I — I’m not sure!” he stammered. “Eyes. Reptilian eyes. Possibly a snake? I think it saw me, too.”

“That’s impossible,” the witch said. “Scrying is one direction only; no one can see back across the connection.”

“That’s the only part that concerns you?” Ezra exclaimed. “My heart’s desire is apparently a large reptile and you’re just concerned about the laws of magic?”

Anathema started to make a smart comment and then noted his pallor and how rapidly he was breathing. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get a finger or two of scotch into you.” She took him by the elbow and led him into the house.

The encounter left Ezra off balance and out of sorts for the rest of the evening. He saw Anathema off after more tea and a bit of whiskey, then set about trying to settle down and focus on lesson planning, but found himself distracted by thoughts of those golden, reptilian eyes widening in surprise and alarm. Who on earth was that supposed to be? His soulmate? He might not know a lot about the larger world outside of the academy, but he was fairly certain that nobody human had eyes like that.

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Option Three

Aaron closed his laptop and let out a defeated sigh. He’d read the email from the State of New York informing him that the public schools would remain closed for the remainder of the academic year. Naturally, this meant his own district as well—the Half Hollow Hills Central School District—and probably meant that he wouldn’t be able to see his friends from the athletics department until at least August.

The lack of income wasn’t a huge problem for him—his buddy Jack at a financial services firm in Queens helped set up investment he could withdraw from to cover the essentials. His landlord dropping the rent helped too but he was far from a life of luxury right now, just like everyone else. He was bored and longed for social interaction again.

It was easy to fall out of shape, given his lack of access to his regular gym and martial arts studio. He kept active with some sets of push-ups and abdominal exercises to maintain his fitness, and stretched to maintain his flexibility, but he missed the warmth of his blood running though his veins and the challenge the instructors there put him through on a regular basis.  

And of course, he missed training with Lucy, an instructor there a few years younger than him who taught him most of the more difficult techniques. Her classes were his favorite—she pushed her students further physically than the others did, and maintained enthusiasm and energy for the whole session.

And she looked damn fine doing it too. Without doubt the toughest part of her class was not staring at her. Of course he would never let her catch him—he believed with confidence she could swiftly and decisively end his life if she ever wanted to.

Fortunately for Aaron, however, she liked him enough that she wouldn’t do that, and she lived two doors down the hall from him. Even now, during quarantine he’d at least still get to talk to her.

  He caught up to her at the mailboxes one afternoon. “Hey Lucy,” he called out to her. “You going crazy during lockdown too?”

She smiled when she saw him. “I’m bouncing off the walls in here, dude. I’m so over this.”

Here she was in regular clothes, picking up her mail and chatting about their situation. It was easy to forget Lucy was a regular person too. “Preach…” he decided to go for it. “You free later?”

“I’m doing a virtual tutorial for ISD at 7. What’s up?”

ISD—their martial arts school, the Iron Self Defense Academy. If Aaron got nothing else from them he got confidence. “I was just looking to see if you wanted to hang out later. I know it won’t be like that time at the bar in Huntington, but it’s something, right.”

Quarantine be damned, if anyone was sick in their building they’d have known by now. Lucy smirked and shifted her weight a little. “No, I think it’ll be better.” This prompted a mote of surprise from Aaron. “I’ll be done at 7:45,” she said as she passed him by, jabbing a light elbow in his side as she did. “Don’t be late,” she added with a wry smirk.

Wouldn’t dream of it.

  He knocked on her door at 7:46 that evening. She answered in gray yoga leggings and a black pullover hoodie with the ISD logo on the front. She chided him initially for showing up ninety seconds late, but forgave him when he presented a dozen bottles of her favorite beer.

They started in the kitchen area, sharing the beer over leftover pizza, and ended up on the couch watching episode after episode of the Hostile Planet series of nature documentaries.

“God,” Lucy said, “I love these shows. I think that one’s my favorite series.”

“Really?” Aaron added incredulously. “I think Bear Grylls was a little much.”

“Are you kidding?” she laughed. “He’s perfect—he fit right in with the whole ‘survival’ theme.”

“I mean, I guess… I don’t know I think I would have preferred somebody else. Like Sir David Attenborough.”

“Come on, that’s an obvious pick. Use your imagination a little!”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind hearing Idris Elba or Jeremy Irons narrate a series like this.”

“Both solid choices,” Lucy added. “Amazing set of pipes on both of them.”

“I’m pretty sure the Nature Documentary Narrator position was made for a British guy. It’s tough to imagine anybody else doing it.”

Lucy and Aaron shared a laugh and the moment, just looking at and appreciating each other. Her in her hoodie and leggings; him in track pants, a t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie.

After six seconds of unbroken eye contact, Lucy finally spoke up. “Thanks, Aaron. This was fun, I needed this.”

“You’re welcome, Lucy… So,” Aaron said, feigning confidence a little, “it’s 2am on a Friday night, and you have me in your apartment, all alone. What do you want to do?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “Well, I’m open to suggestions, what are you thinking?”

“I do have five ideas on what we can do next.”

“Ooh,” she teased, “I’m breathless to hear them.”

“Okay,” he said straightening his posture. He counted them off on his fingers, pausing between each item “We can find something else to watch, we can grab another beer, we can fool around… we can do a combination of the above…”

Lucy broke eye contact. Her wry smirk began to straighten and her lips parted slightly.

“…or I can wish you good night and leave--”

“Definitely not that.”

This took him by surprise “Wait, not that?”

“No, I know what I want to do next.” Lucy got up off the couch and made her way across her apartment to the bedroom. She looked back over her shoulder at Aaron, still seated and almost frozen in disbelief. “Aren’t you coming?”

  There was no chit-chat once Aaron crossed the threshold. Lucy took hold of his face and pulled him in for a sensuous kiss that deepened as her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He returned in kind, gently kissing her although his hands were saying other things—running on their own up and down her back. They made it underneath her hoodie and slowly lifted it up over her head, pausing at her sports bra before her hands took over and she freed herself of the woolen garment.

There she was, in the same perfection which he first beheld her: her build supple but strong, stunningly beautiful in a classical warrior kind of way, like a Valkyrie. Only this time the hunger in her eyes was for him, and him alone. Aaron felt on top of the world, that he had that effect on the woman of his dreams. Before he could even think for a second longer, Lucy took hold of his hoodie and fell backward onto the white bed spread, pulling him on top of her and locking lips again.

Before long Aaron slipped out of his jacket and under the sheets with her, running his free hand up and down her leg as Lucy pared off his t-shirt, ghosting her fingers up his sculpted frame like an artist validating her work. Their bodies were already warming up when Aaron braved her waist band and pushed his hand down to her panties. He lingered for a few seconds after breaking their kiss to make sure he was alright to proceed. She nodded quickly and reclaimed him as he began stroking her. Her wet panties told him she was loving every second of this just as much as he was.

Lucy freed one of her hands to pull her panties aside and allow Aaron more access to her, and freed the other to pull at his waistband and return the favor. He was well-endowed, there was no doubt about that; she smirked a bit at his, excitement, she felt through his underwear and he let a quiet moan slip when she felt him.

“You’re just aching for me, aren’t you?” she teased.

“Oh,” Aaron said, “since forever..!”

“Well, then,” she said, peeling off her leggings and casting her slicked panties aside, “you better come here and get me.” She removed her bra to reveal her b-cup breasts and slid under him, inviting him with a libidinous gaze and an even more seductive lip bite.

Aaron decided he wasn’t going to keep her waiting one more second. He threw his pants aside and got out of his underwear. She always called him a stallion for enduring her classes with little wear or fatigue; now he was going to prove it to her.

  Once inside Aaron paid attention to his form and the queues Lucy was giving him. He made sure he hit all the right notes and made this moment even better for her than it was for him. Like this? he would prompt with his hips. Like this, she would affirm with hers. He began to accelerate when her breathing became faster and her moaning became louder. She was insatiable; wrapping her legs tight around him and digging her fingernails into his back as she abandoned all concern that their neighbors would hear them.

Then Lucy took control; she broke the grip her legs had on him to turn Aaron onto his back with a thrust of one of her hips. Glowing, she claimed her spot on top of him and grinded her wetness on his excitement, her hair down around her shoulders

“I know that move,” Aaron said, laughing and catching his breath a little.

“I knew you’d catch that,” laughing as she caught her own.

Aaron took hold of her hips as she lowered herself onto him, guiding him up inside her again with her hands and letting out another moan. She started slowly, gently pulling herself up and down, but quickly returned to their previously established pace and volume. Lucy loved having Aaron inside her, and knew he was in heaven too. Especially after his next four words gave him away:

“I’m going to cum..!”

Lucy wasn’t finished yet, but she was getting close. She planted one hand on the headboard and the other on his shoulder to anchor herself as she bounced on him even harder than before.

“Lucy, I’m going to cum!”

“So… am… I!”

“I’m going to cum inside you, you have to--!”

Lucy finished first, screaming near the top of her lungs and sinking down onto him. As her hips rocked in place he thrust his head back into the pillow, matching her volume. Aaron finished inside her, but didn’t seem to mind now despite his prior protestations.

When she knew he was done, Lucy gently lifted herself up off of him and flopped down next to Aaron. She snuggled close to him and they drifted off to sleep together with the television still on in the other room.

  Aaron woke up in a bedroom that wasn’t his, and tanked the good Lord last night wasn’t a dream. He looked over at Lucy next to him, just waking up herself.

“Hey, lady,” he said.

“Well, hello there,” she returned with a smirk. She began to sit up when a pang of guilt washed across her face. “Listen,” she started. “Sorry about last night. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone and I got a little carried away. I hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”

“Ruin what,” Aaron said, “the hottest sex I’ve ever had? I just hope it was good for you too, because I want to keep doing that every day for the rest of my life..!”

Lucy smiled and laughed. “We’ll have to do some planning, then!” She sat up fully and stretched, knowing Aaron would appreciate the sight. “So,” she suggested when she was done. “It’s Saturday morning at 9:30, and you just woke up next to your dream girl after some fantastic sex. What do you want to do now?” she said with a grin.

Aaron began to chuckle to himself. He had a feeling he knew what she would suggest.

“Because I can think of a few things we can do if you need some ideas.”

“Tempting,” Aaron said with a laugh, “but I think we should start with breakfast.” 

--Brendan M. Lubin, April 2020

_________

Fucking shit, Brendan, I'm just gonna be over here fanning myself for a while. I can't tell if I want to fuck Aaron or Lucy more. (The chaotic bisexual in me is shouting 'both' right now, by the way.)

You guys should definitely check out Brendan's blog @the-original-b. He posts awesome poems, and when I'm lucky he drops these sexy little stories into my ask box. ;) For real, B, you should try and post more of these on your blog. I, for one, am gaining a lot of inspiration from them. ;)

[rainandhotchocolate]

One Life Stand - Part 2

A/N WHEW this took me ages - I’ve struggled super hard with this one but I like this chapter it’s got a realll fun ending hehe feel free to lmk what you’d love to see happen next! Anyways. enjoooy. 

Synopsis: Sirius x reader - one night stand to one life stand classic

Lily waved fervently at her from the science building, holding two large coffees. Y/N grinned at her and jogged over, trying to warm her hands from the snow and frosty air that whipped through her.

“How much do you love me” Lily passed over the steaming coffee as Y/N gripped it tightly, hoping it will warm herself up.

“As much as me buying you a coffee later”

“Pathetic”

“Have you done the assignment yet”

“Yes, have you?” Lily raised an eyebrow. Y/N resisted the urge to glare at her hyper organised friend and shook her head, following her into the building and towards their chemistry class.

“I thought you were studying last night?” Lily was clearly goading her. Y/N thought back to her ‘study session’ last night, which included 2 orgasms and multiple bites down her neck and chest courtesy of Sirius convincing her they could ever hang out with him finding a way to get her out of her underwear.

“I was, I just got distracted by all the noise next door was making, I cannot WAIT to move out this fall.”

“Oh man, you’re telling me! Here I was thinking that living next to Marlene would be a breeze, I could hear her through the walls until 4 in the morning, if you know what I mean” Lily winked, giggling at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Who was she with?” Y/N leaned in slightly, not wanting to be in earshot of any of their classmates beginning to line up outside the lecture theatre.

“Sirius!” Lily whispered in excitement, grinning at Y/N as her stomach dropped. It took everything to avoid looking very disappointed. Is that what he'd hurriedly run off to the night before? Was one girl not enough for him?

“When did that start happening?”

“No idea just got a very excited text when I told her to shut the fuck up. Gave her an extra 10 minutes” Lily giggled again, standing upright as the class began to filter into the lecture hall.

“Good on Marls” Y/N smiled at her and followed her in, messing around with her laptop and textbook until Professor Slughorn walked in and she could pretend to focus on him instead. Her mind began to wander as he began explaining ionic bonding, why was this bothering her so much? The idea of Sirius being with Marlene, touching her, making her feel as good as he made Y/N feel-

“Are you ok?” Lily nudged Y/N softly, whispering to avoid being called out by Slughorn.

“What? Oh yeah yeah, just confused about what Slughorn is saying”

“You were explaining this to me last week for my assignment”

“I’m tired”

“Y/N!”

“Is there something you’d like to share Miss Evans?” Slughorn suddenly called out across the lecture theatre, smiling irritatingly up at them.

“No, sorry Professor” Lily smiled back sweetly. Slughorn chuckled at her and continued with her lecture.

“You are the queen of sucking up to Professors”

“It’s one of my best talents” Lily winked at her and went back to her notes, focusing back in on Slughorn, leaving Y/N to mull over her thoroughly depressing thoughts.

Y/N sulked for the rest of the day, brushing it off as sleep deprivation to Lily and Marlene when they met up for coffee as an excuse to go back to her dorm and try to find a way to distract herself. Instead she found herself staring at the ceiling, desperately avoiding picking up her phone and sending a very, very idiotic text.

Her phone sent out a very obnoxious ‘ding’ and she (much to the annoyance of the rational part of her brain) grabbed her phone, checking it instantly[SH2] .

Bar, now. – Remus

Lily waves fervently at her from the science building, holding two large coffees. Y/N grinned at her and jogged over, trying to warm her hands from the snow and frosty air that whipped through her.

“How much do you love me” Lily passed over the steaming coffee as Y/N gripped it tightly, hoping it will warm herself up.

“As much as me buying you a coffee later”

“Pathetic”

“Have you done the assignment yet”

“Yes, have you?” Lily raised an eyebrow. Y/N resisted the urge to glare at her hyper organised friend and shook her head, following her into the building and towards their chemistry class.

“I thought you were studying last night?” Lily was clearly goading her. Y/N thought back to her ‘study session’ last night, which included 2 orgasms and multiple bites down her neck and chest courtesy of Sirius convincing her they could ever hang out with him finding a way to get her out of her underwear.

“I was, I just got distracted by all the noise next door was making, I cannot WAIT to move out this fall.”

“Oh man, you’re telling me! Here I was thinking that living next to Marlene would be a breeze, I could hear her through the walls until 4 in the morning, if you know what I mean” Lily winked, giggling at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Who was she with?” Y/N leaned in slightly, not wanting to be in earshot of any of their classmates beginning to line up outside the lecture theatre.

“Sirius!” Lily whispered in excitement, grinning at Y/N as her stomach dropped. It took everything to avoid looking very disappointed.

“When did that start happening?”

“No idea just got a very excited text when I told her to shut the fuck up. Gave her an extra 10 minutes” Lily giggled again, standing upright as the class began to filter into the lecture hall.

“Good on Marls” Y/N smiled at her and followed her in, messing around with her laptop and textbook until Professor Slughorn walked in and she could pretend to focus on him instead. Her mind began to wander as he began explaining ionic bonding, why was this bothering her so much? The idea of Sirius being with Marlene, touching her, making her feel as good as he made Y/N feel-

“Are you ok?” Lily nudged Y/N softly, whispering to avoid being called out by Slughorn.

“What? Oh yeah yeah, just confused about what Slughorn is saying”

“You were explaining this to me last week for my assignment”

“I’m tired”

“Y/N!”

“Is there something you’d like to share Miss Evans?” Slughorn suddenly called out across the lecture theatre, smiling irritatingly up at them.

“No, sorry Professor” Lily smiled back sweetly. Slughorn chuckled at her and continued with her lecture.

“You are the queen of sucking up to Professors”

“It’s one of my best talents” Lily winked at her and went back to her notes, focusing back in on Slughorn, leaving Y/N to mull over her thoroughly depressing thoughts.

Y/N sulked for the rest of the day, brushing it off as sleep deprivation to Lily and Marlene when they met up for coffee as an excuse to go back to her dorm and try to find a way to distract herself. Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling, desperately avoiding picking up her phone and sending a very, very idiotic text.

Her phone sent out a very obnoxious ‘ding’ and she (much to the annoyance of the rational part of her brain) grabbed her phone, checking it instantly.

Bar, now. – Remus

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s a very flat beer” Remus raised an eyebrow at Y/N as she sat down in front of him. The booth was quite sticky, standard for this time of the evening when everyone was ignoring the homework they were meant to be completing before tomorrow’s tutorials.

“It’s whiskey”

“Merlin’s Beard, Y/N” Remus laughed but watched her closely as she took a shot of the pot of whiskey she’d ordered, “Not feeling peachy today are we?”

“Planning on feeling peachier when I finish this” Y/N grinned, her lips twitching into a grimace as she swallowed another shot.

“You know you’re being an idiot right?”

“I’m sure I am, but what about?”

“Sirius”

“Mmmmmk” Y/N gave no indication that what he said had made her heart beat a little faster, “What about him”

“Lily mentioned certain escapades with Marlene which I presume she would have told you as well.” Remus took a sip at his gin and tonic before continuing, “She thinks you’re being an idiot as well by the way”

“I’m glad to hear you all love talking about me so much,” Y/N said, rather sarcastically.

“She also mentioned you acting very weird today”

“Of course she did”

“She’s just looking out for you, you know” Remus poked her elbow, trying to get Y/N to not look so serious, “If you just told her-“

“If you think I’m about to proclaim my love for S- cheesy toast you’ve got another thing coming”

Remus looked incredibly confused, following Y/N’s eyesight towards the bar where Sirius had waved at them and begun to walk over to join.

“Speak of the devil” Remus muttered, winking at Y/N, “Hey Sirius, how's it going?"

“Very well, though I'd love to hear more about why Y/N is so against cheesy toast! Come on it's a classic!" Sirius grinned his wide, infectious grin and Y/N downed her whiskey. 

"Want another beer?" Sirius grabbed her glass, pointing at the bar. 

"I think she wants som-ow!" Remus started but was hit hard on the shin by Y/N's sneakers.

"Yep, that would be great" Y/N smiled sweetly, turning to glare at Remus once Sirius had walked back over to the bar.

"Not a god damned word" She growled, leaning over the table slightly. 

"My lips are sealed". 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N could feel the world spinning around her as she shook her head when asked for another refill. She was giddy, smiling goofily at anyone who spoke to her and very much trying to avoid ever having to stand up again in case she fell straight back over.

“Y/N” a voice to her left called out, a hand reaching out and gripping her shoulder.

“Yeppo mcyepperson” Y/N closed her eyes for a second, wondering if it would make everything a little less fuzzy.

“Oh yeah, sounds like it” The deep voice chuckled, “Come on, we should get you home”

“Yep, probbbbbably a good idea” Y/N nodded slowly turning to face a very concerned looking Sirius. Y/N gulped, hating how much she enjoyed him helping her up and checking in on her. He reached his arm around her and helped her up, walking her out of the pub and towards the student apartments across the street.

“You remembererered my code” Y/N slurred slightly as he typed in her building code and brought her over to the elevator.

“You’d hope so, I’ve been here enough times” He chuckled, catching her slightly as she stumbled on the step up to the elevator. It felt like every place he touched was on fire, each finger pressing into the lower part of her spine, his other arm gripping her waist, keeping her upright. They reached her floor and Sirius grabbed her key out of her bag, opening the lock and getting Y/N inside.

“Ok, let's get you into bed,” Sirius said as Y/N swayed uncomfortably, trying to match Sirius’ gaze but struggling severely, “Yeah ok, I’m going to have to lift you up ok?”

Y/N nodded, feeling progressively more embarrassed at her state of being as she began to lose motor control. He ducked down and lifted her up with surprising ease, carrying her over to her bedroom.

“Very strong man” Y/N murmured awkwardly, trying to ensure her words came out without a slur.

“Thanks, Y/N” Sirius shook his head, smiling softly.

“No, thank YOU Mr Black” Y/N attempted to sound sincere, but by the look on Sirius’ face, it hadn’t worked.

“Are you ok if I get you into some Pajamas? I won’t look for you taking everything off don’t worry”

“You’ve seen it all before” Y/N tried to wink but blinked multiple times instead.

“Yes, when you’re less drunk and have more capacity to make decisions” He laughed, opening her bottom drawer and grabbing out her favourite oversized t-shirt, “How about you take off the straps of your dress and put this top on, and I’ll help you shimmy out of it.”

“Yes, smart thinking”

Sirius undid her sneakers and pulled them off her feet gently, only looking up once Y/N had called out to say her top was on and he helped her unzip and pull off her dress, ensuring she was covered the entire time. He placed a towel beside her bed and a glass of water on her bedside table.

“If you feel like you’re not going to puke super soon, drink this slowly, otherwise you’ve got this down here for when you likely do throw up”

“Thank you, Sirius” Y/N mumbled softly, curling up into her blankets.

“Anytime, Y/N” He smiled and got up to leave, but Y/N felt her hand reach out and grab him.

“No, actually though. Thank you so much, you really didn’t have to do any of this.”

“It’s really no-“

“I’m sorry if I kept you from Marlene tonight, I didn’t mean to get in the way of you two”

“Wait what-“

“No it’s ok, Lily told me, I’m super happy for you guys. Just don’t tell anyone about us ok”

“Oh…ok” Sirius’ smile faded, but Y/N was now fading, the alcohol finally making her sleepy.

“Thanks… again” Y/N smiled and fell into a deep sleep.

 Taglist:  @laue-bb @brokenhearted-littlegirl  @avengersassemblee   @gemofthegalaxy   @ruefulposts  @dude-whatawave   @itsilvermorny    @cosmetology-and-poetry    @broadwaytrash101  

@blackpinkdolan @blushingskywalker   @maraudersandco @thebabblingbookworm   @cherrie511  @imlukesnirvana  @sly-vixen-up2nogood    @katbernoulli @siriuslyjanhvi  @evyiione   @sirius-lysad   @cherrie511  @blushingskywalker    @imlukesnirvana @aikeia  

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 17

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

-------------------------------------

The excitement over lighting the bulb was short-lived. After the first lightbulb, Rhonda had gotten ambitious and stole a few bulbs of various sizes from a supply closet. In her practice room, she laid them in a circle on the floor and stood in the middle. She had worked at it for nearly an hour, and though maybe she should have been glad she could now get them to flicker without touching them, she was frustrated with being hard-pressed to do more than flicker.

She stepped out of her circle of bulbs and paused the top 40 pop song playing on her phone. “Sia,” she muttered with annoyance, “Thinks she’s an artsy Rihanna or some shit.” She huffed and started searching on her music app, “I need something I know.”

Rhonda’s taste in music was all over the place, but mostly gravitated to two moods: Marilyn Manson, System of a Down, and Rammstein, or Missy Elliot, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny’s Child. She found a playlist fitting that second mood and started nodding her head to a bass beat that would have some good thump on better speakers. Without thinking about it, her feet started moving and her hips winding. Her old, worn dance hoodie found its way off her body, tossed carelessly on the slightly dusty hardwood floor. The familiarity of the beat and the sexy, unapologetic lyrics had Rhonda turning and stepping all over the room, whipping her hair and sweeping her arms in powerful arcs. She smiled, and sparks lit from her cheeks and fingers. The bulbs didn’t light, but she wasn’t even thinking about those anymore except to step around them. Movement, and the freedom it gave her, dissipated all her frustrations as long as she could feel the floor under her feet. Song by song, she felt better, until--

“We should find you some twerk tutorials,” someone said flatly from the doorway.

Startled, Rhonda’s rhythm broke and she ducked into a low fighting stance. 

Ellie was leaning against the door frame. Her smile faded when she realized why there was a rule about not startling Rhonda. “Sorry, um,” Ellie edged into the room. “I know I should knock or something--”

“How long were you standing there?” Rhonda’s heart was racing, and she tried to breathe slowly, force herself to calm down, and not let on how scared she was for that split second.

The teen raised her shoulders and answered, “Just...two and a half songs? I forgot how cool it is to watch you go.”

Rhonda paused the music. She wanted to fuss at Ellie, but couldn’t make herself do it. Instead, she asked curtly, “What’s up?” Acutely conscious that her arms were bare, Rhonda snatched her hoodie off the floor and quickly pulled it back over her head.

For someone who kept a stony face so often, Ellie had an absolutely darling smile. When she grinned, Rhonda saw the little girl who used to play with black nail polish and liked trying on Rhonda’s X-Men boots. “Colossus said to come get you, lunch’ll be ready soon.”

Rhonda couldn’t resist smiling a little herself. “All right. Give me a minute to put the tripping hazards away.”

Ellie helped her box up the dozen or so new lightbulbs. “So? Who are you liking on that playlist we made?”

She snickered more than she meant to, “Well, not Sia.”

Scrunching her nose, Ellie shook her head, “She’s overplayed.”

“Panic! At the Disco is fun, though,” Rhonda stacked the boxed lightulbs neatly on the floor by the wall. “I dunno why I wasn’t always into them, they’re great.”

Ellie beamed, “They did get better, though.”

They finished the bulbs and headed down the hall toward the stairs. “I’m not wild about the new Metallica album,” Rhonda admitted glumly, “Nothing tops their old stuff, I guess.”

The younger woman carefully rubbed her eye without smudging her eyeliner. “Nah, but it’s better than St. Anger.”

Scoffing, Rhonda muttered, “Anything’s better than that shitstack.”

“Have you listened to Hozier yet?”

“Who?”

“Ho--” Ellie stopped and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Hozier. Yukio would give me a ton of shit for this, because I tell her I don’t like him, but,” she grabbed Rhonda’s shoulder and stared her hard in the eyes. “He’s objectively good. You gotta try him. The whole album.”

“Okay,” Rhonda chuckled, “It’ll be the next thing I listen to.” She gave a sidelong glance, “Why did you tell Yukio you don’t like him?”

Ellie rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder she didn’t knock herself unconscious. “When ‘Take Me to Church’ first dropped, it was super overplayed and everyone and their mom was obsessed with it. It is pretty good, though.”

They started walking again. Ellie said under her breath, “And if he does a show anywhere near here, we’re going.” When Rhonda gave her a sidelong glance, she added, “For Yukio.”

“You two seem really good together,” Rhonda hooked her arm through Ellie’s.

Let the record show: young badass Negasonic Teenage Warhead was blushing. She said through gritted teeth, “She’s the best and I would kill for her.”

Rhonda thought she might rupture a sinus from how hard she was trying not to laugh. “Yeah?”

“Also?” Ellie slowed her walk.

“Hm?”

“She wanted me to ask you if, uh, if you’d let her,” Ellie winced, “Fix your hair?”

Tugging a strand of frizzy, mousy colored hair, Rhonda scrunched her mouth to one side, “It’s pretty crusty, huh? I dunno how all this grey got here.”

Ellie playfully shoved her with her shoulder, loosening their linked arms as they went down the stairs. “You used to tell me you started going grey at fourteen and that’s why you dyed your hair every color you could find!”

“You remember that?” Rhonda’s jaw dropped. “That was a secret!”

“I never told anyone,” she giggled.

“You told me just now!” Rhonda was laughing too.

Ellie laughed harder, “You--but? You’re the one who told me!”

On the first floor, they passed a parlor that was used as an office now. The door was open and Rhonda saw a familiar form. “Hey, Ellie?” Rhonda pulled away. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen, ok? Tell Piotr I’ll just be a minute.” With a nod, Ellie broke away and walked off.

Nerves making her chest tight, Rhonda hesitated by the door, debating whether she should enter at all.

Michelle sighed and without looking up from her work at the desk, said, “Either come in, or keep walking, Rhonda.”

Taking a deep breath, Rhonda forced herself to walk calmly into the room. She cleared her throat and nodded, “Michelle?”

“So you do know my name,” Michelle turned and stood--and looked down at Rhonda with a chilled glare.

Finally giving her a good look, Rhonda realized Michelle was tall. She had to be about six feet tall, built like a mythical queen with long, willowy limbs and a perfect bunch of thick, dark curls bouncing just past her shoulders. Her skin was such a warm, glowing sepia brown, Rhonda guessed she would shine like a human chunk of tiger’s eye if she stepped in the sun. She was gorgeous. It was no surprise she’d caught Piotr’s eye--she looked like an exquisite sculpture in a museum.

Rhonda, by comparison, was shorter, stockier, and though she was looking much better than a few weeks ago, would still compare herself to a pile of dry leaves. 

Michelle impatiently drummed her fingers on the edge of her desk, “Is there something you want?”

“I am...I’m sorry...about before.” Rhonda looked like she was going to choke from trying so hard to swallow her pride. “I should have said thank you.” She stole a glance at Michelle’s face, then looked down to fidget with the hem of her hoodie. “You made Piotr happy at a time when...that probably wasn’t easy. And he, um, ha,” she forced a light laugh, “He deserves every ounce of happiness he can get, right?” She was nervous and uncomfortable under Michelle’s gaze. She sighed and looked up at her again, “You took care of him. Thank you. I dunno if we’ll ever be friends, but...I don’t want to be enemies.”

Michelle gave her a stern up-and-down glance with her golden hazel eyes. “He really believes you’re still some kind of sweetheart. This is the first time I’m tempted to believe that.” 

She moved suddenly, and Rhonda instinctively took a quick step back. Michelle rifled through a few papers on her desk before grabbing a business card, holding it up, but not extending it to Rhonda just yet. “You still haven’t been to see Charles.”

Rhonda’s jaw worked, “Not yet.” She realized Michelle was tense too.

The taller woman shrugged with one shoulder, conceding, “Look, I get it. If you’d rather talk to someone else, this is a colleague of mine.” Finally, she held out the business card for Rhonda.

Both were careful not to let their fingers touch as Rhonda took the card. She fidgeted with the corners with her fingernails, looking at the name and phone number for a therapist who specialized in mutants. “He’s not a telepath?”

Michelle huffed and rolled her eyes, “He’s not, but what do you have against us?”

To retort, Rhonda raised her eyebrows and tossed her head, over-enunciating for sassy effect, “If I wanted to talk about it, I’d say so, out loud, with my noisy face hole.”

“Whatever,” she adjusted back to her seat and got back to work. “I just better not hear about you stabbing anyone else.”

As she edged out of the office, Rhonda grumbled under her breath, “Like you’ve never wanted to stab Kurt. Have you met him?” By the time she reached the kitchen, she'd stashed the card in her hoodie pocket.

[7-wonders]

The Devil Wears Jaclyn Hill

Word count: 1678

A/N: Yikes I’m nervous about posting this. This is my first time writing for Michael, and I really have no clue how it went. Let me know what you think, and if you want to see more of Michael!

Michael’s a man of elegant tastes. He enjoys the finest fabrics, the most decadent food and drink, top-of-the-line cars, and anything with a price tag more than some people's’ college tuitions. That’s part of the reason he finds you so intriguing.

You, in your cramped apartment that you share with two other people to cut down on costs. You, who rushes back and forth between your two jobs that leave you tired and sore daily. Your life is one that consists of microwaveable foods, coupons, and upcycled clothing. It’s a world that’s vastly different from Michael’s, which is probably why he likes spending so much time with you.

When the rising Antichrist steps through your threshold, gone are the responsibilities of Cooperative meetings and eager Satanists. No longer is he fawned over and waited on hand-and-foot. When he’s with you, he’s just ‘Y/N’s boyfriend.’ One of your roommates laughed in his face once when you asked him to load the dishwasher and it turned out he didn’t know what a dishwasher was.

Where Michael’s Gucci and Versace, you’re Target and Forever 21. While Michael only dines at restaurants owned by his father or those with Michelin stars, you’re more than happy with Qdoba or In-N-Out. Michael’s diamonds, and you’re cubic zirconia. The differences between your lives are almost startling, if Michael didn’t take every opportunity possible to spoil you. Normally you refuse his expensive gifts, but you’re more than happy to let him treat you to some new makeup every now and then.

Makeup is your medium. It’s how you unwind after a long day of work, watching the newest tutorials and studying them intently. It’s how you can make your regular outfits look a little bit more special. More importantly, it’s what you love to do, even if it frustrates you to no end. Plus, your makeup is priced on the drugstore end of the spectrum, so you don’t feel too bad about finally giving in.

Michael’s sitting in the corner of your room, answering work emails on his phone while you watch a new James Charles video for the fourth time. You groan when the video cuts from a half-done face to the finished look.

“‘And there you have it, sisters!’” You can’t help but to mock the guru’s voice. “Better sister shut the fuck up before I sister slap the shit outta you.” Michael chuckles at your angry muttering, glancing up to look at you.

“Everything okay over there?” He asks. You turn to face him, shaking your head.

“He just goes so fast! The video’s over and I look so stupid.” You gesture to your face as an example. Pursing his lips, Michael looks at your eye makeup. It’s actually not that bad for such a complicated look, it’s just that you only have one eye done.

“It doesn’t look bad, my love, it just looks half-finished.” You playfully roll your eyes at him before grabbing a makeup wipe and wiping your canvas clean. Michael watches as you organize your makeup again with care, making sure everything’s in its’ designated spot.

“Michael?” The man lets out a hum of acknowledgment, letting you know he’s waiting. “What would you say if I wanted to do your makeup?” The silence in the room is overwhelming to you. You know that Michael would never get upset at an idea of yours like some of your past relationships would have. Still, your anxiety skyrockets whenever he gets quiet. He’s always so good at reading people without sparing a glance their way, that you envy his ability in this moment.

“Never mind, it was stupid. I’m sorry.” You start babbling, taking his silence as an answer. He grabs your hand to stop you from getting up, pulling you into his lap.

“Nothing you ever say could be stupid. I was just thinking. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, now that your plans are all starting to be put in motion, you’ve been developing a very specific style.” You reference his hair, which has started to touch his shoulders in recent months, and his outfits. He doesn’t need to be reminded how much you love the gloves he’s added to his wardrobe, and you flush at the mere thought of those leather-clad hands on your bare thighs. Shaking your head slightly, you continue. “Well, what if you spiced it up with an eye look?”

His eyebrow quirks, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“You don’t have to do all the face stuff?” He asks.

“No, we can do as much or as little as you’d like. I was thinking some red? Nothing too crazy, just enough to make those eyes of yours pop.” A slight smile graces his face, and you find yourself grinning at the very sight of it.

“Show me.” He demands. You nearly jump out of his seat in excitement.

“Seriously? You’re not just doing this to, like, make me happy, are you?”

“I’ve always been fascinated with makeup, and lots of men wear it today. Besides, in the new world, we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want.”

The new world.

Michael’s been talking of this for weeks now, ever since the plans for an apocalypse were finalized. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little sick at the idea of nuclear annihilation, but Michael insists that it’s all for the greater good. The world needs to be cleansed and remade, you remind yourself. You know that the destruction and nuclear winter will only be temporary before a new world flourishes from its’ ashes. There’s a part of you that trembles with excitement whenever Michael goes on about ruling, telling you that, as his queen, you’ll be right next to him.

You stray towards your desk, running your hands over your palettes. After careful deliberation, you decide that the Jaclyn Hill palette has the color range you’re needing. You grab the palette and a couple of brushes before making your way back to Michael, who grabs you again. For the harbinger of the apocalypse, he’s very clingy and touch-starved. You straddle his hips and move his hair out of his eyes.

The process is slow at first, with you having to remind Michael to keep his eyes closed until you say so. When you put primer on his eyes, he jumps back.

“That’s cold!” He yelps. Laughing, you dab it on his eyelids, forming an even base.

“It’s primer. It makes the makeup stand out more and makes everything look even.” You patiently explain. “Open your eyes, please.” He looks at you expectantly and you giggle. “Do you have a color preference?”

You pop open the palette and watch as his eyes take in the myriad of colors. Pointing to one, he glances at you.

“Is this one okay?” He’s pointing at Hunts, the most pigmented red in the palette. You nod.

“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.” You’re not all that shocked that he’s picked the most vibrant red there is. The man has a near-obsession with blood, after all. You grab one of your brushes and dip it in one of your neutral shades. Even though your attention is on the makeup in front of you, you can tell Michael is watching you. You’ve been together long enough now that you can feel his piercing gaze from across the room.

“That’s not the red.” He points out obviously, grinning when you roll your eyes.

“Don’t want the primer to be the only thing on your eyes.” You swipe the color across both of his lids, satisfied with the effect it has. Grabbing a smaller brush, you gently dip it into the red shade Michael had picked out. You tap the brush against the pan, making sure there’s no fallout before you start lightly applying it to the inner creases of his eye.

“You’re thinking about it again.” He mumbles, not wanting to mess up your concentration.

“Thinking about what?”

“My plans. My father. The apocalypse.” You move the brush in a circular motion, blending the shade out.

“Yes.” You settle, knowing arguing about it is futile.

“Why? Are you scared? You’re going to be safe, my love, you know that.” Dipping back into the shade, you tap the brush on the pan again, harsher this time.

“I’m scared that you’re not going to be safe, Michael.” You explain. He somehow manages to furrow his brows without moving his eyelids, and you’re mildly impressed.

“Honey, I’m the Antichrist. Nothing’s going to hurt me.” You nod before remembering what can’t see you.

“What if something goes wrong?” He grips your waist with his hands, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’ve been preparing for this my entire life. My father has been preparing for this since the beginning of time. I promise you that everything will go as it’s planned.” You lean back, choosing to study your work. Satisfied that it looks even, you lag a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m done, I think.” Moving off of his lap, you wait for him to stand and face the mirror.

“Wait.” He grabs your wrist, standing so he’s eye-level with you. “Are you okay? Did that help ease your nerves?”

You love getting to see this soft side of Michael, the side that’s reserved only for you. You’re pretty sure all of his devoted followers have no clue he’s even capable of being like this.

“Yes, it did. I just want to get this over with. I wish I could just wake up and be in our new, perfect world now, y’know?” Michael nods, kissing the top of your head.

“Soon.” He walks the two of you over to the mirror, where he scrutinizes his new look. “You were right about the red making my eyes stand out.”

“So you like it?” You ask, hiding your smile in his shoulder.

“I’m thinking you might have to buy a few more of those palettes before the bombs drop.”

If there were angels in hell, you’re pretty sure Michael would be the prettiest of them all.

[spiderneds]

I Wanna Fall In Love (Peter Parker [TH] x Reader x Dad!Stephen Strange)

for @melonpanbread bc she’s been the best at dealing with me on this crappy week :’ ) y’all she’s the best.

thank you all for praying. every prayer, message, and ask sent to me means the world. but i’m feeling happy bc my aunt that lives in another state gets to fly here last minute for the funeral. we didn’t think she’d be able to bc she recently beat stage 3 cancer and can’t get around easily anymore or afford a plane ticket, but God made a way and i am just so thankful. 

It was Monday night, and you were sitting at the small dining room table with your dad, eating dinner ordered from your favorite restaurant. As he scraped the bottom of his plate with his fork, he said, “Oh, you’ll never guess who called me today.”

“Christine?” you guessed.

“How did you know?” he asked. 

“Who else would call you, Dad?” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, ouch.” He laughed and you smiled. “Anyway, she invited me to a banquet on Friday. One thrown by the other doctors at the hospital.”

“Oh, yeah? Are you going to go?” you asked. 

“I told her I would,” he said, nodding. “And then she said she’d like it if you would come, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would you want to come?” he asked.

You tried to suppress your excitement. “I mean... I guess it would be fun. Is there, like, dinner and dancing and stuff?” you asked. 

“Yes, there’s like dinner and dancing and stuff.” He grinned. “But you have to bring a date or you can’t get in. I’m going to be Christine’s, so I can’t be yours.”

“Well, who am I going to take?” you asked. “It’s not like I have a boyfriend or anything-”

“No, and thank goodness you don’t,” he said. You rolled your eyes. “Look, you don’t have to be dating this person to get in. Just... ask one of your friends. Ask Peter. Or Ned, if you want.”

“Ned probably wouldn’t going...” You bit your lip. “Alright. I’ll ask Peter. He should think it’s fun.” You put your fork down and stood up. Before you left the kitchen, you said, “But don’t you dare eat my food, Dad!”

Later that night, after several hours of homework and projects, you were laying in your bed, hair wet from the shower you’d taken a few minutes before. Your laptop was propped up on a stack of textbooks. You were video chatting with Peter, since he was on a field trip with the decathlon team until Friday. He was currently sitting in his bed. 

“How’s D.C.?” you asked.

“Same as last year, pretty much.” He looked over to the bed next to him. “Jeez - I’m gonna have to turn the volume up to hear you,” he said. “Ned is snoring like a lawn mower over there.”

You laughed. “Yikes. I bet that’s fun.” 

“So fun,” he said sarcastically. 

You sat back against your pile of pillows. “Hey, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he said. 

“So my dad got invited to this banquet with all of the doctors he used to work with-”

“Fancy,” he interrupted.

“Yes, very. Anyway - I’m invited too, but I have to have a date. I was wondering if you wanted to be my date. Not, like, my date-date, but just go with me so I can go.” You shook your head. “I am making this awkward for literally no reason. Ugh. Okay. Do you want to go to the banquet with me, Pete?”

He laughed, showing all of his teeth. “When is it?”

“Friday.”

“Okay, we’ll be back in Queens by then. Yeah, I’ll go with you. They’re gonna have fancy dinner, right?”

“I’d assume so.”

“Sweet,” he said. “I’ll definitely be there, then.”

On the day of the banquet, you dressed in a dark blue dress. You did your hair for the first time in a while, even taking the time to do your makeup the way girls did in the YouTube tutorials. You walked out of the bathroom - your dad was waiting outside - and smiled up at him, pulling at your sleeves.

“You look great,” he said. “So beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Is Peter ready?” he asked.

“I told him to be ready by seven, so I hope so,” you said. 

“Come on, Christine is waiting outside,” he said. He held out his arm to you. You took it, beaming up at him as he left the house with you. 

Christine was standing by her car, wrapped up in a glittering shawl that covered her black dress. “Oh, you look so pretty!” she gushed, looking over you. “And look at you, Stephen. Finally in something other than a levitating cloak.”

“It breaks my heart to leave my cult uniform behind,” he joked. He opened the door for you and let you inside of the backseat. He took the passenger seat, leaving Christine to drive. “I sent Peter’s address to your phone.”

“Okay,” she said, shutting the door. “Is this Peter guy your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s just my best friend.” You sent him a text. 

On our way! Be ready.

“He’s been her friend since they were freshman,” your dad said.

“Ah. Well, I’m happy that I get to meet him today.” She met your eye in the mirror and smiled.

She pulled up in front of Peter’s apartment. Peter was standing outside, dressed in the same tuxedo he wore during homecoming last year. He smiled when he saw the car, waved, and jogged up to the curb. You leaned over from your seat and opened the door for him, peeking your head out to smile. 

“Hey,” you said. “Don’t you look fancy.”

He grinned. “And look at you - you finally look presentable.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your seat so he could get in. “Rude.”

“Hey, Doctor Strange-”

“Peter,” your dad replied, shaking his head. “You’re allowed to call me Stephen.”

“Right. I-I know.” He swallowed. “Sorry.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “This is Christine, Peter.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. 

“Nice to meet you, too. Alright, everyone buckled up?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt your phone vibrate on your lap. You looked down at it, checking your two new text messages.

They were from Peter.

You look really pretty tonight.

I’m texting you this because if I say it out loud your dad might use magic to kill me.

You grinned, cheeks burning and heart fluttering. You looked up at him. In the blue-darkness of the car, he smiled at you. 

“Thank you,” you breathed.

The banquet was in a hotel ballroom, and it was decorated with lights that flickered like candles. In the yellow glow stood dozens of doctors and nurses all dressed in fancy gowns and expensive jewelry. You felt nervous as you stood in the middle of it all, Peter next to you. Your dad and Christine were getting champagne from the bar - and you and Peter didn’t know what to do.

“How do people usually act in fancy ballroom parties?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, the fanciest place I’ve been is... a three star hotel.” He looked around. “Should we act like we’re doctors? I feel like we should act like we’re doctors.”

“Peter, we are very clearly high school students.” You looked around. No one was looking at you, and yet... it was like everyone was looking at you. 

“Right,” he muttered, rocking on his heels. “We probably look worse just by standing here.”

You took in a deep breath. “Okay, well... are you hungry?”

“Not... really?” he said.

“You said you were only coming because of the food.”

“I wasn’t serious! And I am way too awkward to eat. And what if they’re serving just snails?”

“What kind of doctors do you think these are?” you asked. “I am sure the food is catered-”

“Okay, I know. It’s just... I am kind of nervous.” He pulled on his collar. “Can you tell I’m sweating?”

You giggled. “Why are you so nervous? Because of the doctors?”

“No,” he admitted. He looked at his shoes. “Because... of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Because of me?” you asked. 

“It’s not like that, I-” He stopped and sighed. 

At the same moment, the lighting lowered and the music got louder. You looked around, watching a few couples pull one another to the center of the room. They wrapped their arms around one another and swayed slowly, not really dancing, but not standing still. 

“Do you wanna dance?” he asked. 

“Me and you?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m... really nervous, so if you could just answer...”

“Yeah, we can dance,” you answered. You laughed and took his hand.

He walked beside you to the center of the ballroom. He turned towards you, slowly raising up your hand. He held it carefully. The look in his eyes made your heart skip several beats. Another hand touched your waist and pushed you closer to him.

And slowly, you both were swaying.

You were incredibly aware of how close your face was to his. You were alert to the fact that Peter was holding your hand and touching your waist and guiding you around in a slow moving circle. Wicked Game played from the speakers loudly, but if felt like it was no more than a whisper around you.

“This is the song that played in Friends,” you whispered. “On Ross and Rachel’s first date-”

“Is that really what you want to talk about right now?” he asked. He laughed softly. 

“No, but... I don’t know... what to say right now.” You blinked slowly.

“Me neither,” he said. “But I’m not nervous anymore.”

“You’re not?” you asked. 

“No,” he said. “Not at all. What about you?”

“I... don’t know,” you said. “I can’t tell.”

He drew you even closer and you moved your arm so that it went around his shoulder. You dropped your head and shut your eyes. This moment was so perfect, so right, so unexpected... and you didn’t want to miss it. It had to be over soon, because this moment of pure bliss couldn’t last forever. Moments like these never did.

Suddenly, the swaying stopped. You felt disappointment because you didn’t expect it to be over that soon.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him.

“I... have to go,” he said. He pulled back. “I’m sorry. I really am. You have no idea how badly I want to stay.”

“You don’t need to explain it to me, Peter,” you said. You smiled at him. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” He gave you a serious look and took both of your hands. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek quickly. Then he was off, running out the doors, pulling his tie off of his neck. 

You watched him go. 

When the doors shut behind him, you sighed and walked to the corner of the room. You grabbed a plate and went through the food line. You snorted when you saw a tray of snails sitting right in front of you. 

Your phone buzzed and you checked it. Your heart fluttered at what it said.

Stay there, because I’ll be coming back for another dance.

You bit your lip and clutched your phone to your chest for half a moment. Your heart was swelling with pure happiness.

“Just friends, huh?” Christine asked from behind you. She winked when you turned around, scooping some food onto her plate.

“That’s how it used to be,” you said. “Where’s Dad?”

“He had to go,” she said. “Cult emergency.”

“Cult emergency?” you asked.

“I notice your Peter is gone, too. Funny, huh?” she teased. 

“Oh. Yeah, he just... had an... an...”

“Avengers emergency?” she asked. “It’s alright, I won’t say anything. I kind of figured. And I don’t know which one he is, but... he’s the Spider-Man, isn’t he?”

“You’re really good at this,” you whispered.

“I know, right?” She grinned and nodded. “So you wanna shove a bunch of chocolate cakes in our mouths now that the boys are gone?”

“Definitely,” you said. 

“Great. So let’s skip the snails-” She gently nudged you away from the food table and towards the counter full of fancy cakes.

[wndrlstvbz]

Math and Makeup Don't Mix

you need help for a makeup look and your spider boy happens to be the perfect model.

a/n: just had to be part of the amazing @upsidedownparker 5K writing challenge!! 

this is ya girls first time doing this so please bear w/ me here loves

You could hear Peter huffing and puffing up the stairs to your room and the lightbulb lit up in your head. Per his advice you had decided to put your skills to the test and join the schools theater group as their new makeup artist. The director had just presented the new play this morning and you noticed a drag queen character in the cast. While part of you was jittery with excitement the other part was ready to spontaneously combust. You got home with a wig in one hand and your phone playing drag tutorial videos in the other.

The MUAs you’ve seen before make it look easy but just because James Charles did a quick drag video on Youtube doesn’t mean you can just whip up a whole look on opening night. At least not without some practice. Lucky for you, your model had just walked into the room.

“Peter my love, darling, boo and best thing that has ever happened to me! How has your day been sweetheart?” You say looking up to him, making sure to use the puppy dog eyes to soften him up before throwing in the catch. He chuckles and wraps his arm around your neck while glancing over your shoulder to see all the products and brushes sprawled on your vanity. He looks up at you in the mirror with narrowed eyes, “I think I know the reason for this sudden burst of affection.”

You scoffed and turned to him in pretend shock and hurt, “Listen here Spider-boy if you think that I’m being all lovey dovey just so you can be my practice model for a makeup look...” You pause for emphasis, “Then you are completely right! Take a seat please, babe.” You did a mini victory dance as Peter rolled his eyes and reluctantly sat down on your chair as you pulled out the materials you needed, “But all jokes aside, how was it? I know you had tutoring after school today.” You gently took a very expensive tube of foundation he was vigorously shaking out of his hands, “No touchy.”

He pouted and grabbed another tube instead, “It was horrible I mean I was trying to teach this kid probability and it was worse than trying to teach Mr. Stark how to use snapchat!” You snorted, your mind going back to last month when you got a spam of pictures of Peter in different filters, followed by a video of Stark asking Peter why the hell there were flowers on his head. “You have to admit the snapchat incident was funny, but probability is fairly easy, is the kid in our class?”

Peter laughs nervously, “Well actually he’s 12 so... no.” You nearly drop the powder in your hands and gape at your now red boyfriend, “Don’t look at me like that, I was a master at probability by the time I was nine, that little boy has no excuses.”, he pointed out. “I worry about you sometimes Parker, now what color eyeshadow do you want?” You asked, “And before you grab one, this is spring look so no spid-” You turn to see Peter slowly putting back down a red and blue palette. You shake your head and hand him another one to choose from. The time passed by with a mini dance battle and Peter stopping you every once and a while to show you a funny video he found.

“You know y/n, I feel personally victimized by this color discrimination thing you have going on.” Peter states with a smug look on his face, “I might have to stop letting you practice on me” You pull back after finishing the second eye and smirk back, “Then I might have to make you a very ugly drag queen as revenge.” Peter pulls you on his laps and spins you both till you two are facing the mirror, laughing, “I mean come on babe, me? Ugly? The probability of that is zero, but you go ahead.”

You roll your eyes and apply the finishing touches, you grab some red lipstick and turn to Peter, “Pucker up, buttercup.” After all the hard work it was done and needless to say, Peter looked beautiful. As he played with the wig in the mirror you cleaned everything up. “Y/n, baby, any chances I can keep this wig?” Before you could mutter back a response you felt arms snake around your waist and pull you back.

“Peter no! Put me down this instant or so help me!”, you yelped as Peter spun you around, he planted you on the ground facing him. Even with all the makeup on you could still make out his best features, like his crazy eyebrow that took forever to cover up. You leaned up to peck his lips but he cupped your cheeks and held you back, “No ma’am, you never let me kiss you when you have makeup on so you don’t get to kiss me.” You stared at him in disbelief before turning back to your vanity shrugging and laughing, “Well the probability of you being able to keep that act for long is zero as well so.” You could tell Peter was weighing his options in his head, “Okay, you’re right, where’s the cleaning things? I want my kiss.”

You snickered and pulled Peter into the bathroom and sat on the sink counter while proceeding to clean off all the caked on makeup on his face. “Thanks for doing this for me though, you’re the best drag queen boyfriend in the world!” you joked. Peter planted a kiss on your forehead, “Anything for you my love”. You looked up at your boyfriend with a cheeky smile, “So what’s the probability of getting my kiss now?”, Peter glances from your eyes to your lips and you already know what the answer is, “According to my calculations, 100%.” You giggle and pull on his shirt collar till his lips smash onto yours. Peter pulls away and gazes into your eyes, “Math and makeup don't mix but our lips sure do.” You bite your bottom lip and shake your head, “Well we should do that one more time, just to be sure.”

[browkween-blog]

hey guys whats up caito potatoe here and i suck at intros. im from new zealand so that makes me the brow queen of the southern hemisphere. the url browqueen was taken and i seriously want to message that tumblr because they arent even USING it and i want to tell them to gET REKT an that they doNT GET SMASHED THEY GET MASHED (by me, the potato). anyway, i never leave my house without eye eyebrows on (as the brow queen this is required). I have a sister Mia who smells funny. sometimes i do makeup tutorials, sometimes i post ridiculous rants, sometimes i do makeup on tour. i dropped out of art school to pursue my real dreams of traveling around the world and to be a full time youtuber so mumma potatoe is obviously real proud of me. i love girls & my favorite tv program is wentworth. find me on bcofmybrows where i can tell you funny stories or complain about being sick. stay groovy guys.