#easy kept short hairstyles

[milaisreading]

Crossdressing!Player!Reader×Blue lock pt 2

Warnings: Reader uses she/her while narrating. The players see reader as a boy tho. Requests are open for this au

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Pt1

'I don't want to go back home... I don't want to see them again.' (Y/n) chanted as she kicked the football back at the boy, causing him to kick it back at her. The rest of the group watched in a mix of anticipation and confusion, while Barou was a little annoyed.

'Why isn't he trying to target anyone else?' The black-haired boy thought, looking at (Y/n) who was getting more and more frustrated with this cat and mouse game.

'10 more seconds left!' She looked at the timer as the boy kicked the ball at her again.

'8... 7... 6...' She panicked and ran at the football, quickly kicking it back at the boy. The other player had no time to react, and as soon as the timer hit 2 seconds, the ball hit him in the chest. (Y/n) flinched as the boy stumbled down, and the siren buzzed to signal the end of the first challenge.

'I... I did it... I won't go back home. I am safe!' She thought happily as Ego announced to the boy that he was out.

After the room was left with only 11 players, Ego announced the start of their week long training, and (Y/n) grew mortified at all the challenges they needed to start.

'Is he a sadist?! Oh well, better than being with my parents.' She thought, then looked back at her team, tensing up when she saw Barou glaring at her.

'What's with that glare?!' (Y/n) gulped.

'He is so weird... just like that hairstyle. But I need to ignore him for now. My main focus should be surviving this project and making sure nobody finds out I am a girl...' She hummed. While (Y/n) ignored the rest, Barou kept inspecting her figure, unsure why he was getting a weird vibe from her.

'He is so weird... but he does have a cute face.' The taller thought, nearly slapping himself for the last thought.

Later that day, (Y/n) went to the restroom and dressed in the blue shirt and sweats the team was given. She them went off to the cafeteria to get some dinner.

"I am so hungry... what's for dinner?" She thought, putting her rank number on the scanner.

'Nice! Rice and teriyaki tofu!' Her eyes lit up as she saw her food, and took it to her table.

'Hmmm I wonder if that guy from today is here in this building.' (Y/n) thought, looking around the cafeteria to find the blue-eyed boy, but to her disappointment, he was nowhere to be found.

"What are you looking so stupid for?" (Y/n) jumped, startled by Barou's voice as he sat across from her.

"Oh? Barou, I am surprised you sat down with me." She commented, taking a bite from her food as the boy raised his eyebrow.

"And why are you surprised over that?" He asked, a little annoyed as he took a bite from his food.

'Boiled eggs? Why is he eating that with rice?' She raised an eyebrow and answered.

"You seem more like the type of guy who acts too cool to be around anyone."

(Y/n) answered truthfully, watching as he chocked on his food a little.

"What's with your bluntness?"

"I am just being honest." She shrugged, taking a sip from her drink.

"And why are you eating boiled eggs? Isn't that weird with rice?"

Barou stopped eating for a moment, looking at her in disbelief.

"Our food is based on our ranking. You are the highest ranked one in our team, so you got the better food. Didn't you listen to Ego's explanations?" Barou's question caused (Y/n) to blush and laugh nervously, stuffing her food with the rest of her tofu.

"I did! I did! Just wanted to check if you knew what was going on!" (Y/n) lied.

"You lie horrendously." Barou said, sounding bored as he watched (Y/n) stop eating for a moment.

"Can I ask you something?" The girl asked as Barou nodded his head.

"Why did you want me to stay?" There was a short silence between the duo, and she watched as Barou contemplated on how to answer the question.

"Easy, you are the only player around I see worthy as an opponent. After you and those 2 friends of yours beat me, I made sure to study all your plays. I still can't figure out how you are so precise with your goals..." Barou started explaining, oblivious or purposefully ignorant to the embarrassed blush on her face.

'He studied my goals?!'

"How do you know where to aim?" Barou questioned.

"Huh?" She wondered, finding his question odd. Nobody really questioned it.

"I don't know.... it's just a feeling I get while I am in the possession of the ball." She shrugged. Barou stayed silent for a moment, nodding his head as he observed (Y/n) a little more.

'Why is he looking at me like that?!' She wondered.

"I will figure that out, then." (Y/n) heard the boy say.

"Mhmm... if you want to, we can train together. It might help us later." She suggested, watching as Barou thought about it for a moment, and then nodded his head.

"Sure. A training buddy on my level is a good idea."

(Y/n) nodded her head, and with that a duo was unofficially created. A very unlikely one.

Later that night, (Y/n) laid on her bed as everyone else was sleeping. The girl was lying on the futon, unable to fall asleep from all the thoughts plaguing her.

'This whole plan will blow up in my face eventually... one way or the other, they will find out I am not a boy. What will they do then? Will they disqualify me? Will I be publicly shamed for this? Will I have to go home?!' She gulped athe last idea, and put a hand over her racing heart, while the other one played with her (h/c) hair, hoping to find any form of comfort in it.

'I will hide this as long as possible... nobody can know. For my own happiness and freedom, I will pretend to be someone I am not for a little bit longer... I can do that.' She nodded to herself and closed her eyes, curling up on her side.

'I can do that. I will survive this. If I can't become the best striker... I will become (L/n) (Y/n) one day.' She smiled at the idea, sleep slowly consuming her form.

[g1rld1ary]

jealousy, jealousy ; anthony lockwood x reader (part 2)

➻ i'm a big valentine's fan can you tell... (also thank u sm for 20 followers?! in like a week or 2?!!!)

➻ word count: 2008

➻ synopsis: you're at Fittes' Valentine's Day ball with Lockwood but things don't go quite as you intend. maybe all that's needed for the both of you to confess is some good old-fashioned jealousy

➻ warnings: ooc + villain kipps, kissing without consent + implications of sexual assault (just kissing), swearing, angst + fluff

➻ (part one here)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Lockwood thought he’d never seen someone more stunning. He knew you were beautiful — he’d spent enough hours staring at you in Arif’s to deduce that fact, but this was the first time he’d ever seen you not in your work uniform and your practical tied-back hairstyles.

Now, though, you were on a whole new level. Your red dress was simple but classic, grazing the floor beneath your white heels. The red spaghetti straps were hidden by your hair, extending past your shoulders in gentle waves, a frilly white barrette keeping it out of your face. Lockwood was, very unusually, completely lost for words.

“You look…” He stuttered, grappling for any words that could encapsulate the feelings in his heart.

“You’re a total knockout,” Lucy interrupted, and Lockwood nodded, grateful for the words supplied. Even George looked mildly impressed, which you took over the exasperated expressions you got when you were serving him at work. Truthfully, the source of those looks was usually Lockwood and his habit of abandoning work the moment you entered his periphery, but George wasn’t above lightly blaming you for it.

You kept Lockwood & Co meeting your family to an absolute minimum, but still not short enough to avoid your mum giving you several pointed looks.

“He’s cute,” She mouthed and you flushed almost the same colour as your dress. You tried to shut her up before anyone noticed and you thought you’d succeeded, but Lucy’s teasing eyebrow raise had you burying your head in your hands.

Soon as you could you’d ushered Lockwood & Co out of your house, waving goodbye to your parents and trying to silence all their embarrassing conversation by talking louder to your friends. Lockwood, much to your chagrin, was extremely fond of them and had made premature plans to see them again, delighting in your embarrassment at their insistence of telling childhood stories.

Still, you arrived at the Fittes building far too quickly for your liking, and you subconsciously grabbed onto Lockwood’s arm to keep him close. He looked down at you, eyes soft as they searched yours. He gave a quick pat to the arm holding his, offering you silent support.

“It’ll be fun, hey? Promise if it sucks we can ditch whenever you like — I doubt George will last that long anyway.” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice not to waiver.

You looked around in wonder as you entered the great hall where the ball was being held. It was decked out in red and pink, hearts and cherubs tastefully adorning each surface. You were astounded by the opulence of not only the room but its inhabitants. All of the agents invited were similarly dressed up to the nines, though you personally didn’t think anybody compared to Lockwood in his perfectly tailored suit.

The four of you wandered around the party for a while, and you were admittedly shocked at Lockwood’s charm and easy conversation. You knew he was a good talker — you’d been told off a ridiculous amount of time at the store because Lockwood had kept you entranced with a story or a joke, but he could seemingly keep an endless conversation with anyone he came across regardless of their age or occupation. You followed him around like a lost puppy, smiling nicely when you made eye contact and giving your name when someone cared enough to ask. The moments you liked the most though were between the endless list of people to greet, where Lockwood would crane his neck down to whisper what he really thought about the previous acquaintances and you could make a joke in return.

You were surprised by someone calling your name. “You look stunning tonight.” The voice belonged to Quill Kipps. You smiled at him, paying him a compliment in return. You rather liked Kipps — you knew there was some rivalry between him and Lockwood but it was frankly none of your interest or business, and Kipps had always been perfectly lovely to you. You could feel Lockwood glowering beside you and sighed, hoping there wouldn’t be a confrontation in the middle of a ball. Though you couldn’t say you minded the protective — and maybe slightly possessive — arm he’d snaked around your waist, holding you closer to him and further from Kipps.

You made slight smalltalk with him, but the conversation was short lived since neither boy was prepared to speak any kindness to the other. You waved softly as Kipps promised to see you later, and you scolded Lockwood when you were out of his earshot.

“Today is a day all about love and you’re staring down Kipps! What is that all about?”

“I can tell you our tragic angsty backstory later, love, do you want to dance?” You thought Lockwood was smarter than he was sometimes given credit for as that was possibly the most effective redirection tactic he could have tried, and you were soon on the dance floor together, swaying softly to the cheesy, old fashioned love songs that had been playing all night.

You couldn’t believe what was happening to you. Firstly that Lockwood had asked you here at all; it was your first time seeing each other out of the confines of the cafe and it was all going so well — the two of you got on like a house on fire. Secondly, that you were then slow dancing with him. His hands sat on your waist, warm against the silky fabric of your dress. In turn, yours wrapped around his neck, and neither of you could contain your smiles. You thought in the back of your head, trying not to jinx it, that he might even try to kiss you — and you doubted you would say no to him.

You’d settled into a comfortable silence, dancing amongst the sea of couples, and you wondered if Lockwood was having the same thoughts you were. You didn’t get the opportunity to ask him, though, as George and Lucy were at your side, raving about some high level agency figure that they were desperate to meet. You saw the way Lockwood’s eyes lit up at the name drop and drew your hands back, not wanting to be the reason he gave up an important introduction.

He hesitated for a moment, looking at you. You gave him a soft smile, encouraging him to leave.

“C’mon, Lockwood! Your sappy slow dance can wait, when are we going to get this opportunity again?” George whined and you both flushed at that — any romance sucked out of the mood. Lucy smacked him in the side but the moment was gone, Lockwood holding back a groan.

“What about you go get us some drinks while we do this and we’ll be back before you know it,” Lockwood suggested and you nodded, trying to look cool and unaffected. You said a quick goodbye before you split away from the group, heading to the other side of the ridiculous foyer.

You went to the bathroom, taking full advantage of the luxurious facilities and making extremely awkward eye contact with a woman in the mirror as you washed your hands, shrinking as you noticed how much more glamorous she was.

With Lockwood you felt like you somewhat belonged, his touch grounding you and dissolving a large part of your nerves. But now he was gone, and you felt terribly alone and like everyone who looked at you could tell you weren’t supposed to be here.

Those were your musings as you made your way to the drinks table, intending to make one for Lockwood and yourself as you’d promised. A hand laid on your shoulder from behind you, making you jump slightly.

“I meant what I said before,” Kipps said, turning you gently to face him. “You really look amazing tonight, but you do every day.”

“Oh.” You blushed, “Thank you, Quill. That’s very kind of you.”

“Care for a dance?”

“Uh, I don’t know if—” Your protests were ignored as you were swept up in his arms, limbs stiff from your discomfort. He kept trying to make conversation but you weren’t much use, suddenly uncomfortable with someone you were used to calling a friend.

“I really like you,” Kipps said and your mouth dropped open.

“Have you been drinking?” You asked, trying to ease yourself out of his grip — unsuccessfully.

“Only a little. For confidence. Look, I want to be with you, for you to be mine. What do you think?” You could feel the colour drain from your face, your feet faltering beneath you.

“Quill, you’re really lovely and all but —” He was kissing you. Why was Kipps kissing you? And why couldn’t you get him to let go?

“Lockwood!” You heard Lucy call behind you, and you managed to wrench yourself away from Kipps long enough to see Lockwood storming out of the hall. Panicking, you shoved Kipps away, pushing through the crowd to try and find the boy you’d arrived with.

The winter air outside was aggressive and sent goosebumps up your uncovered arms but you disregarded it, catching up to Lockwood.

“It wasn’t what it looks like, Lockwood, I promise!” Lockwood whipped around to face you, coattails flying with the wind. For a moment he looked frightening and you faltered slightly, shrinking back from him.

“Wasn’t what it looks like? So you weren’t just making out with the only person I really hate? While you were here with me? Yeah, right,” He said, breathing ragged. You hated seeing him angry, you just wanted to hold his face and explain everything, but you figured he wouldn’t be very receptive to it right now. “And to think I really thought I had a chance.” You didn’t hear what was whispered under his breath, your own temper bubbling after being yelled at so unjustly.

“God, Lockwood, can you get your head out of your arse for one second? Do you really think this is how I wanted the evening to go? Being felt up by Kipps because he’s had too many drinks to realise he’s not the guy I like?” You could see Lockwood’s eyes soften a bit, his guilt flaring up. “Yeah, not plan A. All night I have felt stupid and out of place in this big fancy ball and I was fine with it because at least I was here with you, but now you’re yelling at me and acting like you’re the one that’s been hurt, all because you’re jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? I—” He spluttered, but you weren’t finished.

“Clearly you are jealous of something — why else would you be acting so childish?”

“Fine!” He yelled, “I am jealous! I’m jealous of Kipps because I’ve been trying to work up the courage to kiss you all night after pining for you for months. I’m jealous because I like you so much that I can’t stop thinking about you and George is sick of hearing about you and—”

“Lockwood?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” You cupped his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. What you meant as a quick show of affection and method of stopping Lockwood’s rambling quickly turned into something more, something hungrier as Lockwood brought you into him. Whilst Kipp’s arms around you were threatening, restricting, Lockwood’s were warm, comforting, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, adding as much intensity as the both of you could handle.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of a salt bomb and pulled away enough to laugh against Lockwood’s lips.

“You did not just fight a ghost while we were making out,” You giggled, pressing another peck which he chased after hungrily.

“Can’t have you getting ghost-touched when I’ve finally got you in my arms.” You both smiled, lacing your hands together as you prepared to go sort out the mess that had been left behind.

You supposed your Valentine’s Day had turned out alright after all.

[magicalgirlartist]

[IDs are in alt text]

I finally drew the Toa Nuva as magical girls, as promised! I'm really happy with some of them. Some of them were easy to figure out and others were a struggle (Pohatu I'm looking at you lmao). Like I've said these aren't going to be in the Bionicle Sports Anime proper but I just like drawing cute dresses so here we are lol. Most poses are referenced from @adorkastock except Kopaka's and Onua's.

[Commissions open!]

Design notes under the cut!

I really wanted to commit to everyone having skirts or dresses, but for Lewa I figured maybe it was better to give him shorts so he's not flashing everyone while soaring through the treetops lol. Which is too bad because he would rock a skirt. JUST HIM THOUGH everyone else MUST wear a dress. This is not optional (I also wanted to avoid making anyone look embarrassed or upset to avoid the "haha man in skirt uncomfortable with it" thing because. Yeah)

This is also our first time seeing everyone next to each other with relative heights! Tahu, Kopaka, and Gali are all approximately the same height, Onua is a short king, and Pohatu and Lewa are the tallest. I base human Bionicle heights on vibes almost exclusively.

I didn't set out to give everyone white gloves and shoes, it just sort of happened. Initially no one was going to have white in their outfit except Kopaka, but it's a good neutral colour if used sparingly that helps break up some of the otherwise very monochromatic look I've given them. I also gave Pohatu a couple of orange accents because I felt like it :P

Each of them has their Nuva symbol in a different place on their outfit, like Tahu's boots and Lewa's earrings. I meant to give them each their elemental symbol as well, but the only ones who wound up with it anywhere are Tahu (chest and hair clip) and Onua (gloves and boots).

One of the hardest things for me when designing magical girls is shoes. Shoes are hard in general because I never think about them ever, but especially magical girl shoes. Gali's are based on one of Lagoona's sets from Monster High, and Pohatu's are inspired by the shoes and socks in Idol x Heroine Miracle Tunes. The other thing I have a hard time with is hairstyles and I just kept them the same for this lmao I really didn't want to make magical girl versions of all these hairstyles. In hindsight I do wish I'd put some braids or beads or something into Onua's beard.

I figure they all have their own callout when they transform, like at the end of his sequence Tahu would say something like "the raging flames of the inferno! Toa Tahu!" and Kopaka says like "the silent fury of the blizzard...Toa Kopaka." or some shit lol. And then once they've all transformed and said their piece they pose and go "Unity! Duty! Destiny! We are the Toa Nuva!" idk maybe it's the PreCure talking lol but yeah I do love a team callout

[lesbianslvt666]

i would love to read ellie x reader something like the reader is ellie's girlfriend and she is punching a envious bitch who is always pestering and teasing the reader... that would be very satisfying 😩

I hear you babe, i got you 😉

Aggressive!Ellie x Girl in STEM!Reader

Being the only female student in a classroom full of men wasn’t easy, even if they knew you were attracted to women AND that you had a girlfriend one or two still tried to make moves.

It was stupid really, but what bothered you the most was this girl, she was the girlfriend of one of your classmates, and she was a pain in the ass.

It all started when one of your classmates made a small gathering for his party, you arrived by yourself due to Ellie being sick, you wanted to stay and take care of her. But she insisted, so you went for a bit.

Upon arrival your classmates greeted you with alcohol which you only took a few sips of. All the guys started to call you party pooper to which you laughed accepting one more shot.

She eyed you, you being the only other girl in the house made her hands form fists.

Her boyfriend was paying more attention to you than to her, without her knowing that you both were only speaking about some assignments and gossiping like little girls about how much you hated some random teacher.

You excused your self to get to the bathroom and thats when it all started, her blood boiling by the fact that her boyfriend didn’t bother to check on her even though it wasn’t your fault.

“Hi.” Her fake smile and piercing eyes got you puzzled.

“Hey…” your feet kept its course toward the bathroom.

Her hand flew to your wrist, harsh move making you look at her now.

“Don’t ignore me you bitch.”

That was the first time she called you names, after that (even knowing you were with Ellie) she continued poking fun at you, laughing at the smallest mistakes and making sure she (at the very least) tried her best to make you feel embarrassed.

Ellie saw it right away, since the first nasty names she called you and tried to pull her on her place, however, you stopped her. “Babe, she is not even worth the fight, just let it go okay, you know it don’t actually affects me.”

You were telling Ellie the truth, her words meaningless to you, her own person insignificant to your daily life.

And so Ellie didn’t tried anything.

Yet, the last straw was today.

Both of you went to a frat party, none wanted to go but Dina had insisted so much that you went anyway.

Your pretty little black dress making you look incredible, pretty hairstyle that made your face glow, the center of attention really.

You looked at Ellie when she stared to drag you between the crowd to an open area.

Pretty shaggy hair ticking her neck, tight white tank top, you owed one to the universe cause she wasn’t wearing nothing underneath it, a brown oversized button up hanging from her, sleeves rolled up to see her strong and veiny fore arms crowded with tattoos, and these worn out jeans so “it doesn’t looks like i tried” (her words)

When you arrived outside, cold air hitting both faces she took the only seat available, Dina lost with Jesses somewhere inside.

You looked inside while walking to a maspreading Ellie, you sat down on her lap while she took a cig out and lit it, putting it between your lips, she took one for herself and did the same.

“Sorry angel, i ran out of weed” her face apologetic, words making you laugh. Your happiness was short lived when you heard a familiar voice.

“The dikes make an appearance” she said tugging at the strap of you dress. Ellie stood up putting you to the opposite side the girl was at.

“Hi Ellie, you look- you look very good today…” her fucking face glowing red and fluttering doe eyes looking at her.

“This is the fucking last time you tell shit to my girl” she said close to the girls face. “And do not dare touching her ever again.” She was fuming. But she returned to look at you ready to take off the night somewhere else

“Or what?”

Ellie looked back at the girl, warning her with her eyes. “What would you do for the bitch you have huh? She so stupid.”

A swing under her chin was the first hit, didn’t took many, cause even though Ellie and the girl were almost the same hight, Ellie was clearly stronger.

The girl tried to grab Ellie’s hair, Ellie was faster, punching her hard on the nose, blood spitting out, busted lip and broken nose making a bloody mess that called everyone’s attention.

The girl fell back to the girl, you thought she would’ve stopped there but months of pint up anger where finally bubbling out of her guts.

Straddling the girl now she grabbed her face, the girl spit blood on Ellie.

“Why fighting over that insignificant roach? I could make you feel better” and Ellie took her hair, smashing her head on the floor, hard enough to hurt but not to kill. She was experienced.

Neither Ellie, the girl or you had realized that her boyfriend was hearing everything.

You took Ellie by her bicep, the girl on the ground confused and babbling shit that didn’t make sense.

Ellie didn’t bother to leave the scene, but not before spitting back on the girl “bitch.” She said under her breath.

When you got to the car both were quiet. None dare to speak. You sit there for so long.

“Thanks”

“Sorry”

You both blurred out.

Laughing you looked back at Ellie, blood still on her, closing the distance you took some tissues and cleaned her.

“Thank you baby, it wasn’t necessary, but I am thankful.” Your voice quiet.

“Its nothing angel, I would fight a fucking bear for you if i had to” your brows furrowed and and laughter bubbled from your chest up.

“Why- why the fuck would you need to fight a fucking bear for me?” Both laughing now.

“You never know the situations you might find yourself in” she said out of breath. “But yeah, it wasn’t even a fight today, i basically bit the shit out of her and she didn’t even tried”

“Maybe she is into that” both of you looking at each other.

Another round of laughter washed over you.

The whole way back to your place was hurried, you need to have Ellie and you showed it by caressing her leg, very damn near her crotch, and well, you pretty little dress wasn’t helpful for her either.

The night was long, fingers and cum, mouths and milky wetness from both.

[epelletea]

TWST Dorm Leader reacts to you having Ridiculously Long Hair

A/n: Im listening to the Rapunzel soundtrack. Y’all know the drill time to write a headcanon based off it. I’m also running out of ideas so this is going to be quick and short. Also Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates it! My gift to you!!

Context: Basically the Dorm Prefect has long hair like Rapaunzel.

Includes: Riddle Rosehearts Azul Ashengrotto Vil Schoenheit

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Riddle Rosehearts

He knew your hair was long…

But he didn’t think it was this long.

You usually always had it braided up in one big braid and it practically dragged behind you wherever you walked.

He was the one who suggested to help you wash your hair because since it was dragging behind you in the floor it was getting quite dirty.

Watching you unravel your hair from you braid and seeing more hair come fall out of it… it was quite a fascinating sight to see.

How do you managed to do your hair everyday? Especially by yourself!

He suggested that you should perhaps cut it so it can make your life more easier.

Quite surprised at your sudden deny, he sighs knowing that there will be no used in trying to persuade you. He decided to help you out.

With only two of you the process of washing was going to be a long one. So he ordered Ace and Deuce to come over and help using the washing a sort of punishment for them earlier for breaking the rules.

After a few tangles, whining , complaining and even more de-tangling. You all managed to get it done!

Riddle decided to give you a schedule on when your next wash day should be so the next time you do it he can come over and help and use another of his unlucky students that needed punishment.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Azul Ashengrotto

At first he didn’t understand what was taking you so long to finish your hair.

You had promised to meet up with Azul as the Monster Lounge and well. It’s been 30 minutes now and you haven’t appeared yet.

So obviously he sent Jade and Floyd to go retrieve you but when they suddenly come back empty handed and wide eyed at the sight they saw. He had to go check it out himself.

Opening the door, he was immediately greeted by a long trail of hair that lead all the way upstairs to your room.

Was… all of this.. your hair?

Now he knows what was taking you so long. You were basically brushing out an entire ocean of hair.

He decided to cut you some slack for being late for your meeting with him.

He suggested on cutting your hair but you refused profusely and asked him to just help you braid it back up.

He agreed to help speed up your process. Getting Jade and Floyd in to help along with some of the students he had made contracts with to help you out.

It did speed the process up but it did take the entire day.

He still thinks it would be better off if you just cut your hair. But he decided to wait until the opportunity was right and perhaps.. make a deal out of it. Maybe he could sell your hair? But alas that would be secret future plan for when the time comes.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Vil Schoenheit

He didn’t mind when you asked him to help brush your hair.

He assumed it looked difficult to maintain it due to the huge braid you wore.

But oh my…

This was extremely long.

Oh he’s going to need all hands on deck for this. He had his work cut out for him.

He called a emergency dorm meeting getting all most of the Pomefieore students to help out.

How were you able to manage this all by yourself?! He’s completely in shock and even impressed you have some dedication to keep your hair this long.

Not only that. You kept it in such good condition. It was soft, silky and quite easy to brush through. Little to no knots. He’s very proud of your management.

As much as he loves how long your hair is... He does recommend cutting it.

Obviously you refused the suggestion. But Vil wasn't going to take no as an answer especially if you had no reason behind it. He's already showing you many different hairstyles at different lengths.

Still refusing all of his suggestions. He sighs and leaves it alone for now.

The main priority right now is to brush and braid everything back into perfect order.

Once the session was done. He added little accessories to your hair to make it pop out more.

Despite the very long process, he quite enjoyed himself and having this little time with you.

Next time you need some help with some brushing, give him a call. He’ll gladly come help out again if he has the time.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

[isavelvel]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, can I request a poly sbg x fem gyaru reader who gets bullied by Barron and his friends? (Angst but a very fluffy ending) :3

ARGH !! I’ve seen you requesting and I like this request <3 I’ll try my best, I’m gonna keep it simple but I hope you like it ❤️☺️

Tw: physical and verbal bullying, it’s nothing crazy though 🤓

You had always been expressive. Since you were young you had always liked to dress and act any way you liked. In middle school you dressed scene and now that your in high school you’ve decided to expire ment with Gyaru and let’s say your attached to the style.

You’d never think of giving it up but lately it hasn’t been easy keeping the cute look up. A couple of jocks have been bothering you. It’s just been some cruel words but your scared it’s gonna get to something more.

They’ve embarrassed you several times, you’ve mellowed down your outfits because of that. Mostly keeping the look. You don’t want them to think they’ve got the best of you. Your makeup and hairstyles haven’t changed at all but your outfits are less vibrant.

“Look at you.” You hear from behind you. You push your lips together. You don’t wanna look behind you, the classroom is pretty much empty and the class door is wide open. School is over, and your the last kid wandering. Atleast you thought.

You hear giggles behind you, you don’t turn to look, you don’t wanna see their ugly faces.

“Look at me, cmon you can do it.” He taunts you, you turn your attention to him, growing irritated. “I knew you could do it, cake face.” You sigh, your makeup is smooth as fuck and you know it but you can’t help but feel a little insecure.

You grab your things, you bag is cute and all but it’s not cheering you up. You throw your bag over your shoulder to leave before your pulled back harshly. You don’t fall, but you stammer.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You scream angrily, clenching your teeth together. Barron looks at you, a little shocked but his face quickly changes to some twisted amusement his friends and him laugh at you. You feel so embarrassed and encased in this situation.

“What are you three doing?” You hear from the door. Tyler, you’ve never spoken to him before. You think you have one of your classes with him but you can’t remember, “your supposed to be outside practicing with us Barron.” Barron looks at Tyler and sighs, rolling his eyes. His attention goes back to you before smiling.

“Whatever.” You’d smile back if you didn’t knew he was taunting you. You look at Tyler. You rub your arm. Barron and his goons have left and it’s just you two.

“Thanks.” You say before rushing out quickly, that was humiliating.

—

The next day it’s nice outside. You can’t help but think of the utter embarrassment you’ve felt all day. Your on the bus, no seats are open and you look like a lost dog. You hear someone pat their seat, you look over to a cute red headed girl. She doesn’t seem particularly fond of sharing her seat but she does it anyway.

You sit down and take off your bag, you put it at your feet quietly, you take up as little space as possible.

“Hi, I’m Aiden what’s your name?” A boy behinds you says excitedly, you gasp silently. He scared you a bit! You look back at him.

“Hey, I’m (name).” You say timidly, you didn’t have a lot of friends since Barron kept messing with you, others don’t wanna be involved. Aiden smiles, just a little wider.

“I like your hair clip!” He says pointing at it, you smile, you see the girl next to you look over at you, you look at her. Her freckles are incredibly charming. She nods at you quietly before going back to whatever she was doing. A boy next to Aiden just waved before sitting back down.

You fix your bedazzled Jean shorts and cardagain before smiling at your shoes.

“Thanks man.” You say, you fiddle with it a bit. The bus comes to a stop and everyone starts loading off, you grab your bag and rush off.

—

Home room was fairly boring, you shared a home room with Barron so him throwing paper at your carefully sculpted pigtails was the only entertainment you had. Why did he bully like a Disney character?

The paper balls were really heavy though, when you picked one up off your lap you opened it and there was a flipping eraser in it. You squeezed the eraser.

“(Name), pay attention please sweetheart.” You teacher says, you look up. She’s going over todays schedule since the classes will be switched up a bit. You nod, she was really sweet so you couldn’t ever be mad at her.

Bam. Straight to the side of your face. A thick ass eraser too. A couple kids look back at you holding your cheek and frown. They can’t do anything.

Once class ended you slowly left, you waited for most people to leave before your teacher stops you. She asked if you were okay and you give her a half assed answer, she asked because you looked tired? How silly.

Once you were out in the hallway you contemplated in skipping, your next class was fairly boring. You sighed and decided to. You walked to the least popular bathroom, and threw your stuff in the stall.

Your only in there for couple minutes before a girl comes in to use it. Except she doesn’t, she knocks on the stall.

“Hey, is (name) in there?” She asks, her voice is kind. You clench your jaw.

“Yeah..” you stand up and open the stall. You look at her.

It was Taylor, you’ve spoke to her once or twice. She looks at you, a little concerned.

“Are you skipping? I’ve never seen you skip before!” She jokes before continuing. “I just wanted to ask if you were okay. I’ve seen Barron.. well I’ve heard he was being a jerk to you.” You clench your hands together.

“Ugh, yeah. I have this class with him so I just skipped.” You say, you fiddle with bracelet. She frowns.

“Let me know if he tries to pull anything else, okay?” She says, smiling, she wasn’t looking at you with pity but with sympathy. You nod your head.

“Yeah, I will, thanks!” You smile fondly at her. “Well, I’m just gonna go sit in this stall now for another thirty minutes.” She giggles before waving you goodbye and leaving.

—

It had been a couple weeks since the encounter and you were in the back of the school. Once again school had ended, this time you had stayed after for art club. You were gonna take the city bus home. It was raining but you had a umbrella. Suddenly your falling and you fall into a puddle, wrecking your cute outfit. You look up and see your umbrella several feet away from you, before it’s picked up by someone. Barron. You close your eyes and feel like your about to cry, this is way to stressful. You look at your tights and skirt and frown before you start just sobbing. A full on mental breakdown.

At first their laughing before you start screaming Bloody Mary. Then their gasping.

“Shut the hell up! Someone’s gonna-“ before one of Barrons goons can finish, he’s hitting to hard grassy floor. Another one runs off before Barron starts running too. You look up and see several people. This is so dumb is all you can think. Looking at your shoes. Your so mad so so mad.

“Hey, are you.. are you okay?” Taylor say, she’s so sweet. She helps you up and picks some mud out your hair. You look at her before drying your face and clearing your voice.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine.” You say, pulling a little lays bit of mud out of your now messy hair. You feel someone tap your shoulder. Aiden.

“We should probably go inside.” Ashlyn says, the freckles girl with the long braids. You remember her. You all walk inside quietly. You look at your watch.

“They took your umbrella.” Tyler says annoyed, “I didn’t know they liked sailor moon.” He says referring to your themed umbrella, you laugh a bit at his remark.

Ashlyn told you you should probably go wash the mud off your face. You nod before going to the school bathroom. You pull out your gym clothes, just some simple black shorts with a corny shirt. They got cleaned yesterday and you haven’t used them so you just put them on. You wash the mud off your face, sadly that means you have to take your makeup off. Your okay with it, as long as your not being bullied in the rain.

You take out your hair, that proved difficult cause of the hairspray but you did it. You quickly threw it in a low ponytail before leaving the bathroom. Taylor waves you over, the Logan kid next to to her.

Aiden and Ben wave aswell. You walk over.

“Hey, just wanna say thanks.” You pull your bangs behind your ears. They all nod.

“Those guys are pains, aren’t they?” Aiden says, he still has that funky grin on, it suits him well.

“Yeah! They ruined my favorite tank top.” You mutter our. Ashlyn looks at you.

Tyler speaks up. “Let us know if they keep picking on you.” You get a sense of deja bud before you feel someone hug you.

Taylor. “I’m so glad your okay, I was worried they were gonna do something like that!” She rambles with a pouty face, “I’ve never seen you without your gyaru makeup, your cute with it and without it.”

You smile brightly. “You know what gyaru is!?” You say, your pretty shocked.

“Yeah, I started researching it after our talk two weeks ago!” You smile, no one’s ever taken interest in your style with you.

Suddenly everyone’s asking you questions, and you feel flustered. You’ve never felt such joy, you feel appreciated. Cared for even, you blush at all the attention.

“Oh! Yeah, gyaru can just be a style and it comes from many Asian country’s, there’s different kinds too!!” You answer another question. Ashlyn asked this one, she seemed more interested in the background information of it.

It felt like hours where you guys just talked but it was just a couple minutes. Eventually you all had to go home but it was such a humanizing experience.

You look through your phone, looking at the photos you took with the group while you guys walked around the school. You smile and fiddle with your hair.

For the first time in a long time you were excited to go to school the next day.

Jeez!! I hope you liked this! It’s my first time receiving a request ❤️‼️ thank you for requesting I’m really great full! I hope you like it and have a good day. :3

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 17

Give someone a brand new look

Okay, I've had the idea for this one for quite a while!! Thank you Kloktober for giving me the excuse to write it.

With that said, please enjoy Toki giving Skwisgaar a brutal makeover~

“Ams you dones yet?” Skwisgaar asked, starting to get tired.

“No ways.” He heard Toki say. “Ams just getting startsteds.”

“Toke, ‘aves been heres for hoursk or twenties minutes.” Skwisgaar lowered his shoulders. “What ams you even doings?”

“Just shut ups and lets me works!” Toki told him off, though judging from the tone of his voice, he wasn’t angry.

Resigned, Skwisgaar reclined his back against the chair and kept strumming his guitar aimlessly. He was pretty sure he had been here all morning already, or at least it felt like it.

He was minding his business at the breakfast table when Toki ran up to him, telling him he needed him for something. Not quite believing the urgency Toki claimed there was, Skwisgaar followed him nevertheless, moderately curious.

When they reached Toki’s room, Toki had finally confessed he wanted to give him ‘a brutals make overs’ but he couldn’t say it in front of the rest because they would get jealous and would want one too. 

Skwisgaar had raised his eyebrow. “Amsnt makeovers for peoples to look bettors? I don’t needs one.” He frowned, preemptively offended by whatever Toki was trying to imply. “Your musk stash howevers-”

“But it ams goings to be totallies brutal!” Toki insisted, closing the distance between them with one step. “Please?” He stared at Skwisgaar with sad puppy eyes, way too close for comfort. “It wills be funs, Skwisgaar!”

Skwisgaar really hated when Toki looked at him like that, like his entire livelihood depended on this particular whim of his. “Eugh…” Fortunately for Toki, when it came matters unrelated to music, Skwisgaar was very easy to convince. “Fines.” He said, hoping he wouldn’t regret this.

…And here he was, not even allowed to open his eyes because Toki insisted on it being a surprise. Not like he could see himself with a mirror anyway, but Toki was being really stubborn about it. On the bright side, it was helping Skwisgaar practice his playing with eyes closed. He never knew when being able to play Dethklok’s entire discography with his eyes closed would come in hand. 

“Aw!” He whined when Toki pulled on his hair violently and without warning. 

Instead of apologizing, Toki scolded him instead. “Oh, you big babies!” Just as abruptly, he tugged a handful of hair from the lower part of Skwisgaar’s head

“What on Odin’s name ams you doingks?!” Skwisgaar frowned, almost opening his eyes out of annoyance.

“Ams givings you a brans new hairstyles!” Toki said, like the question was fucking stupid. “No mores of dat borings middle parteds hairs. You ams going to be a new Skwisgaar’s from now on!”

“I don’t wants to be a news-” His sentence was cut short by another pull. “Aw!” He moaned in pain. “Toki!”

“Why don’ts you tries takings a nap?” Toki sounded exasperated by now.

“Why don’ts you tries being nicers to my goldens mane?” Skwisgaar shot back. Toki didn’t reply, though he was more careful from his movements afterwards. Grumbling, Skwisgaar settled against the chair and started counting guitars. He was past a billions krillions when one of the guitars grew gigantic and swallowed him whole.

“Skwisgaar…” Something tapped his cheek and he slowly blinked his way out of dozing off.

“Eugh?” He managed, with a hoarse voice.

Toki was smiling at him. “Ams done.” He said and gave him a hand mirror. 

Quite disoriented still, Skwisgaar looked at himself in it and almost didn’t recognize the person staring back. 

His hair was tied into messy space buns, though one was visibly higher than the other and his part was made into a crooked zigzag. His lips were teal, a smudge on the corner of his mouth, shining with silver highlights. His eyelids, on the other hand, were hot pink and sort of uneven. Glittery purple blush adorned his cheeks and when Skwisgaar turned his head, he spotted holographic star stickers on the sides of his face. 

“Eugh…” Was the only thing he managed to say.

“You ams a space metal princes now!” Toki explained proudly and shoved his bear plush into Skwisgaar’s free hand. “And Deaddy Bears ams your princess whats you gots to save by killing aliens with the powers of metal!” He smiled at him. “You likes it?”

“Eugh…” Skwisgaar glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like a lady. “Toki, dis ams…”

“Yes?” Toki nodded with expectation.

Skwisgaar grimaced, hoping his expression would be telling enough. “You knows…”

Clearly, Toki did not know because he kept waiting for him to say something. Skwisgaar noticed his fingers were stained with purple and teal, hands sparkly from the glitter. Next to him, the bed was full of make-up of a wide variety of colors: lipstick, eyeshadow, powder, mascara, lip gloss, stickers, etc. And also, a lot of drawings of the space guy he was supposed to be. Something about it tugged at his heartstrings, despite his better judgement. 

He sighed. “It ams pretties cool, I guess.”

Toki beamed at him, almost insufferably so. “Ams going to takes a picktures.” He said, grabbing the polaroid on his bed. “Says cheese!”

“Wait, Tok-”

The camera made a clicking sound and the photography came out of it soon after. A delighted Toki showed him the picture. “Amsnt it cools?” He asked.

Somehow, Toki had caught him in the split-second right before his expression twisted into concern and he tried futilely to reach for the camera. Instead, it almost seemed like a glamour shot of Skwisgaar’s new look. 

He raised his eyebrows with surprise. “Hey, dat amsnt so bads.”

Toki let out a chuckle, eyes glued to the photo. “Rights?”

Smiling fondly at him, Skwisgaar momentarily forgot what they were talking about. “Ja, it looks good.”

[julianalvarez9]

hair too long / kai havertz

summary: when your boyfriend comes back home after training, he doesn't know why you're acting strange all of the sudden.

wc: 880 words

author's note: referencing a song by the vamps bc i didn't know what to title this. first time writing for kai jaksjsj kinda nervous ngl. had a bit of writers block lately so that's why it's short 😭 dedicated to @oh-saints bc they're the devil in my shoulder convincing me to not let the idea go. hope you like it either way 🫡

it was fairly early to start on with your day, so that's why you were still laying on the bed, too lazy to actually get up and start ticking things off your to-do list. you were about to get up to make breakfast, after becoming quickly bored of your social media feeds, until, a video with your boyfriend's face graced your screen. you smiled at the chance of seeing him, even if you had seen him through sleep filled eyes before his departure to train. he was about to come home either way, but you still missed his presence in the house, and hearing his voice always made you feel giggly inside: even after all this time together.

"oh, i need to go to the barber again," kai joked when the video started, passing his fingers through his dark wavy locks to rearrange his hair to look good for the camera. he then continued talking about his last goal scored, gushing about enzo, amazed at how easily he seemed to have gotten the ball onto his feet: so easy that your boyfriend had initially thought that he was offside.

truth is, you weren't really listening after he had joked about cutting his hair. you liked his current hairstyle too much, longer than the last few months when he had kept it rather buzzed. it's not that you disliked it before, because to you, he was handsome either way, but you preferred it a tad bit longer: enough to run your fingers through his locks, gently caressing them.

the thought almost didn't leave your mind during the morning, thinking about ways you could convince him of keeping this hairstyles a bit longer while you got through the things in your list. you knew that the main reason he didn't leave his hair get this long was to keep things practical and avoid it from annoying him during the games, but you were hopeful that you could find a middle ground.

eventually, your boyfriend came back home, and although you were dying to be on his arms again, you tried to play it off when he started to wander through your shared home, looking for you. it didn't take long for him to find you, already drawn to the kitchen by the noises that the utensils you were making lunch with made.

kai got a hold of your figure, embracing you from behind while nestling his face onto the crook of your neck, leaving a little kiss there that made you squirm under his touch. "what's wrong?," he said, his characteristic accent lacing through his words. he was tilting his head slightly, confusion clear in his features when you didn't turn your head to give him a proper kiss. he made you turn around, gripping your hips a little bit tighter, and trying to find your gaze to see what had gone wrong while he was at cobham. "you don't love me?" you asked seriously, keeping the smirk from forming on your lips. if he got to see even a glimpse of your smile, your lie won't be believable, and you wanted to make him suffer, even if it was just for a little while.

"why are you asking that, liebling?," kai asked, confused about your change in demeanor. he remembered you kissing him goodbye before he went to training, and everything seemed to be fine between you two. "of course i do," he reassured, kissing your forehead lovingly. eventually, you decided to put him out of his misery, only when he lifted his eyebrows in question when you weren't emitting any sound. the smile betrayed you at the end, before your lips confessed the truth. "you tell me, mr. 'i need to go to the barber again'".

kai tilted his head back, laughing in disbelief at your antics. "you like it like this, then?" he asked, one hand departing from your figure to get his fingers through his hair, at which you smiled while nodding. "yeah, it makes you look cute," you pointed out, scrunching your nose while smiling cutely at him. he grinned at your reaction, planting a little kiss on your nose. the words seemed to have sink in a bit after, because when he lifted his head back up he changed his soft expression from before. "cute?" he frowned, clearly dissatisfied with your answer. "i was expecting hot, handsome, not cute".

smirking, you nonchalantly commented, "well, i'm sure it would be hot if i get to pull it when you're between my legs, you know?". kai seemed to get your hint, dropping his head back down to capture your lips into a kiss. it was slow and soft at first, confirming the love he had for you, even if he knew your doubts were only for the joke. eventually, your hands went from his neck to the top of his head, slightly tugging on his hair. he intensified the kiss then, deepening it and biting your lower lip eliciting a moan to fall from your lips. "do you always have these dirty thoughts when i'm not here, schatzi?".

"why don't you figure it out?" you smiled devilishly, and he gripped your waist a little bit tighter before starting to step backwards until you reached your bedroom door.

[feefymo]

For the angst game, "you scare me" for james or jimmy?

tw: mention of sex and violence. Discrimination. a/n: hoping you'll enjoy my choice, doll! -It's about time you joined us, Y/N!- -Linette and I had a bet and, damn, I lost! You are really here, in the flesh! - -By the way: where is Linette?- you asked, sipping from a straw so as not to ruin your lipstick. Alice gestured to the door with her eyes. - So you're no longer a… woman of the world? In short, do you no longer have fun with the beautiful hunks that fall at your feet? - -Maybe she wants to try something different.- -She doesn't get married anymore, anyway. We all know that.- There were times when you couldn't stand having to share the farmyard with those chicks. You often avoided events like this and eventually met them individually. This time, however, you had decided to participate but you wouldn't go too far with your supposed friends. The more they teased you, the more you smiled plasticly or smoothed the skirt of your black dress with small, lilac flowers. Margareth, or maybe Barb, was about to ask you a question when Linette came out with a stupid expression and a drunken walk. Except that she hadn't yet drunk, therefore, she was altered by very different sensations. You didn't have time to show curiosity when Alice invited you with a mischievous gesture. It was your turn.

Without batting an eyelid, you got up from the chair and greeted the perfect wives with a flirtatious gait and from there, the change of atmosphere was such that you felt like you were in another house. In another city, even. The soft light was streaming as if on a poker game but there was no sign of playing cards. A silhouette soon became clear to your eyes but not lying on the bed as you had anticipated. He had his back to you and he was looking out the window; you had been so cautious that that man with "magical powers" only realized your presence when you let out a light cough. At first he turned quickly - so much so that his honey curls bounced in unison - then he recovered the minimum composure required and put on a languid but strong-willed expression. While his gaze painted you as one does on fences, you observed him carefully and noticed how simple it was for him to bring a summer morning into a rainy afternoon like that. It felt good, you couldn't deny it. Beautiful with an elusive beauty, which you fear will disappear with the end of the warm months. How could his face embody the august sun and, at the same time, bring refreshment? His irises were the color of liqueur peat. The perfect nose, the lips that reminded you of cherry indigestion. The more you studied it, the more a sense of corrosion clung to the walls of your stomach.

-Jimmy Darling, at your service.- he introduced himself -Don't worry, doll. Come closer, don't be afraid… I'm here to make you feel good. Don't you want a taste of summer?- he found you attractive, you could tell from the glittering expression and the way he tilted his head. Easy-going, golden, with a rebellious air… he took a step. And so you did. One, two, three. A breath away from him, you reached for his hands but he kept them in his pockets. They were the highlight, you could swear. -What if I liked winter?- you teased, spelling into his half-open mouth. It gave off a nostalgic fragrance of decidedly ripe fruit and you smelled it thoroughly so that he would give in and show the gifts that the Lord had given him. Eager to touch you, he wasn't such a disciplined prostitute after all. Before going around him, you disheveled him. Soon after, you loosened the hairstyle and used the headband to tie the claws behind his back. Jimmy made a dry, guttural noise, you could hear the satisfaction in the grain of his voice and against the fly of his trousers, once you came face to face with him.

-The ladies present here say that you work miracles.- -Well… - Jimmy held back, putting his jaw forward. - … I'm certainly not a creature of God. - then, you remained silent and stared at him. The breathing that came together with that of Mr. Darling but for probably different reasons. -Indeed. You're not.- Your face had suddenly changed. Now arctic and glowering, it gave Jimmy an idea of ​​what you would do next: without warning, you spit in his eye. He couldn't have mistaken the gesture for something erotic because contempt took hold of your features. -You're just God's waste, Jimmy Darling.- you added in a sharp voice. For his part, Jimmy was an impulsive and proud young man, so he tried to free himself not without difficulty. -What is this, a joke? An… erotic fantasy of yours or something? I don't like it.- It was when he found himself on the verge of tearing off your hair band that you pointed a Swiss army knife at his abdomen. -You don't have to like it. If you're good, I'll pay double.- you motioned for him to kneel in front of the bed, hissing: -Monsssster.- but Jimmy hesitated. He was furious: his cheeks on fire and a vein pumping angrily in the middle of his forehead. Yet, he knew his position in there and so did you. That's why you laughed when you saw him reeling in his anger. -Do you want to bring more money to your mommy? So behave like a good abomination and don't protest. You are just an object. Maybe useful, if I don't look at yourself in your entirety. Anyway, you won't caress me. You won't even touch me. You shook both hands of the Demon and he fused yours. - The Lobster Boy, forced to suppress the constant humiliation, was hitting rock bottom that day. He panted as he stared at the toes of your designer shoes and craved alcohol with all his heart. The gush of bile that rose up his throat was of no consequence. When he slowly looked back at you, you had taken a seat on the mattress. Sitting with your legs apart, you slowly pulled up your wide skirt. Planting a heel in the middle of his forehead you pushed so that the mark remained. In this regard, Jimmy did not shy away and, in fact, pushed himself to the point of injuring himself.

-At least you got a beautiful face so now you'll eat my cunt. And you better do it very well. - the young circus performer groaned in frustration, his teeth creaking from the vice in which they were forced. A few seconds passed before Jimmy felt a dull burning sensation. You had slapped him and he understood that he had to humor you. Moistening his dry lips in vain, he began to bend between your thighs. He pinned you down with his eyes wide open, trembling with fury.

-You scare me.- -I said: lick. Me.-

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hi Lena!! Just 2 quick questions that I couldn't find the answer to (thank you tumblr search) so apologies if they're floating around somewhere:

1) What are acceptable hairstyles for a Shepherd in uniform? There's a good chance I'm misremembering this but I feel like I read somewhere that those with long hair should tie it up in a bun. But my MC's hair is at that awkward length where it's too short to be tied back but too long to be left loose. So what now lol

2) Do Mages emit light when they cast magic, like from their hands or it brightens their eyes? I know their hair puffs up like in Studio Ghibli and the air immediately surrounding them gets warmer, but are those the only indicators of an active spellcaster?

That's all, thank you and happy start to the summer! ☀️☀️

Tumblr search is truly wretched so no worries! Basically the rule of thumb for Shepherd officers is that your hair can't be obscuring your eyes/peripheral vision and that it shouldn't be easy to snag on things like branches when you're out in the field, so pretty much any way of keeping your hair out of your face (clips, braid, ugly little short pigtails) is technically acceptable, but tying it up or putting it in a bun is considered safest. Blade (and Riel) would enforce a much stricter dress code if it were left to them, but Riel knows that a fine balance has to be struck between maintaining morale (even by allowing small personal freedoms such as this) and having such a tightly-rigid military structure, and Blade got talked out of making everyone cut their hair short in the early months of the order because, as Trouble put it, "he had absolutely zero business telling anyone fuck-all to do with their hair and people would actually lose respect for him if he tried" so he basically focuses on more important things. However, it is an actual rule that if your captain or superior officer notices things like these cosmetic choices presenting an actual obstacle/danger to you in the field (your hair got yanked by an opponent or they noticed your hair kept falling into your eyes while fighting), they can and will tell you to cut it if your solutions is deemed untenable. So there's that! Doesn't have to be a bun exactly, but it should be tied and out of the way: short, scruffy little ponytail at the nape of the neck or a braid would work just as well!

As for your second question, it depends on what kind of magic the person is casting: for Battle-Mages, sometimes their hands glow, but this is generally when they're casting astral energy; for example, when Briony punches through a wall, her hand doesn't glow, but when she's winding up to unleash a bolt of chain-lightning, it does! Healers' hands glow when they're healing wounds. Elementalists' hands don't typically glow when they're manipulating the elements around them! Psionic users' hands don't ever glow, which is why it's very tricky to realize they're working their magic around you, and Arcane Mages' hands don't typically glow, but the objects they're working with (runes, lodestones, crystals, alchemical compounds and substances, Shifted objects, etc.) can and often do!

Hope that helps!

[stxrrynxghts]

Styling in My Mahabharat

I am a person with wild dreams. And one of my wildest dreams is making my own Magnum Opus on Mahabharat, which focuses specifically on Abhimanyu & Uttara. The story is being written by me, and I am doing my best for all of it. Styling, is something that I am focusing on, as it makes me happy.

I am not the biggest fan of the clothing in Star Plus Mahabharat because:

The clothing was too simple. Only the borders had designs.

The clothing was repeated a bit too much, where was the variety?

The jewelry clearly seemed...phony. Rich n royal=/= heavy gold tbh.

So, I watched some styling videos of many period films, and here I am, with my ideas!

First of all, we need to incorporate materials like silk, cotton and muslin. These three should be the primary, and the difference b/w the three can clearly show a difference in hierarchy. Muslin can be shown to be worn during the night/summers.

We have Banarasi and Kanjivaram sarees, we have Bandhni and Patola prints, we have zari work. I would def include these in the costumes.

For jewelries, simple, but designs from various parts of the country will look good. One or two heavy necklaces are enough, IMO, to show the grandeur of the era. Plus other jewelries like hair ornaments, earrings, bangles, armbands and kamarbandhas are here.

Different designs of armor for the men are a must, probably modelled after what Arjun wore in Star Plus Mahabharat. His armor suited his body type, and looked very good on his figure, over all.

Hairstyles have to include flower ornaments like gajra. They are not worn on "wedding nights" pls, how do these ppl find flowery stuff romantic when someone else is wearing it?!

And now, I shall style my main characters, Abhimanyu and Uttara. If this is successful, I shall do the others too-

Abhimanyu

This is gonna be pretty short. What are the main things for styling a male?

I imagine Abhimanyu with long hair, not too long, but till his neck. Not completely straight, slightly wavy.

One thing I love about StarBharat is the tilaks they have done, for the Kuru men, with the moon and other designs. I will keep that one for sure.

Since Abhimanyu has lived majority of his life in Dwarka, some traditional prints/jewelry designs of Gujarat/Maharashtra will be a great inclusion.

As for ornaments, nothing particular is necessary, except two bracelets, one neckpiece, and two earrings. My headcanon has Abhimanyu wearing an armband, and a single ring.

And colors...hmm, purple is a good option, as that color is associated with royalty. The color blue is a great choice, since it symbolizes freedom and sensitivity, as well as faith and stability. Red is a must, as it is associated with bravery, and dark red means vigor, willpower, and rage. Abhimanyu is canonically short tempered, his name means "extremely wrathful". And red is associated with sacrifice as well, so it is def his color.

As I am going to show Abhimanyu be 21, his headpiece in the armor from StarBharat goes away, as it gives him a boy-ish look. Without it, however, changes his look completely, and I don't want anything in his outfit making him seem boy-ish.

Uttara

Uttara's details in my mind are far different from what is shown in StarBharat. I have kept the same cast as they look cute together in my story, yes, and I hate Uttara's styling.

Her clothing is exquisite, just like her mother's. Matsya is canonically rich, and her maternal side is from Kekaya, what do you expect? Uttara's clothes are flowy, to allow easy movements.

The material of the fabric will be silk, with Kanjivaram, Zari and Banarasi type of embroideries on them. I am showing Matsyadesa to have a riverine trade route, so she should have access to all types of fabrics. Some traditional Rajasthani prints have to be there too.

Jewelry is not too much, but well made and designed. Uttara is interested in dressing up, and it is obvious that she shall have a large collection of ornaments.

The colors shall be pink, as it symbolizes innocence and softness, off white and yellow, which symbolize purity and joy respectively, and blues, lemons and greens as well. Her color scheme rarely has dark shades, as it is symbolic.

Her hairstyles range from a braid, to a bun and a bun with a braid coming out of it (kind of like the typical dance hairstyle).

Sindoor is a must, and there are no veils here. Uttara does own various mini-chudamani style ornaments, which she wears from time to time. Blouses are strapless mostly, some times some of them have straps.

@ambidextrousarcher

[uldahstreetrat]

7! how does your wol feel about their hair? is it important to them? just kind of in the way? who cuts it? do they take good care of it or are they not particularly fussed about it?

pre-dawntrail wol questions!

Hair is SUPER important to my characters - as it kinda is to me too aha. I might not actually answer this for any specific character, since I havent really had the chance to just ramble about this, but hair takes on such a significance for my characters. Usually in an unintentional way that I notice later, but that's par for the course for me aha

I think Q'ihnn is one of my better examples of this - his hairstyle up until post ShB was really messy and in his face, he was still hiding from some of the responsibilities he had and was ready to drop it all in a moment's notice if he really felt like it. After the Dying Gasp, he's pushed it back out of his face. It's neater, more taken care of. He's more sure of himself. And I did a similar thing with Anais, her old self constantly had long hair and bangs that were easy to hide herself and her eyes behind, but now she wears it braided and pinned up. She's showing more of herself to the world now.

And by contrast to these two, Ophianne is constantly changing hers. It often sits within the same general vibe, but she changes her hair like she changes clothes. It's constantly at different lengths, it's different colors, it's entirely different styles one expansion to the next - she's still finding who she is but anytime she gets close she runs off to change it again.

Zana has changed hers a lot too! She didn't think much of it at first but after Baelsar's Wall she decided it needed a change, and she'd built enough trust with Q'ihnn as her adoptive father at that point that she asked him specifically to help her with it. She cut it short and dyed more of it blue, and has since kept playing with the styling of it to find something that's more her. And she really seems to have finally found that.

[cobragardens]

The Missed(?) Connection

Here's a story about how fucking stupid life is.

When I worked in Manchester city centre I would commute in every day on the train from one of the market towns. This would have been c. 2014-2015, before I started having panic attacks about going to work but after I'd been written up for being 5-10 minutes late most mornings.*

Every morning I would walk up Deansgate from Deansgate Station to the office, stopping at a Sainsburys Local to buy breakfast. This particular morning I was late as usual, so the great migration had already browsed the foliage of yogurt bars and uninspiring sandwiches and thundered onwards; besides the store clerk there was only one other person in the shop with me.

Do you believe people can fall in love at first sight?

I did not believe any such thing, so it was QUITE THE SURPRISE to me when I did it.

Here is what I remember about her:

*She was wearing one of those Nepalese yak-wool jackets with the bright rainbow-dyed yarn they sell at the Christmas market every year. Most such garments end up smelling strongly of b.o. and weed stank, grimy and unravelling, but hers was bright and well kept, and she wore it over a short black skirt and tights and managed to achieve a kind of insouciant charm with it so marked that it didn't occur to me for years after that she might have been wearing the jacket for pride reasons.

*She was trans and white and straight-sized.

*Her hair was a well-chosen blonde that would look plausible on her when freshly colored, which at that moment it was not; her hairstyle was a layered cut no longer than her shoulders and in need of a trim.

*The fashion of the time called for contouring and false lashes, but instead she was wearing simple-looking makeup that suited her: black mascara and a lip color somewhere between red and berry. I remember the red of the lip color did not match the cheerful Sno-Cone red of the rainbow jacket but was perfect for her complexion.

*Her black ankle boots had mid heels--the thick sturdy kind of heel good for walking a mile or two in the city if your back doesn't hate you yet. She would have been a bit taller than I am even in stocking feet; the heeled boots took the length of her legs past enviable into devastating.

*She wore a few sterling silver rings, but not so many it looked like dress-up, which is the mistake I always make with them. I coveted at least one of the rings, but I no longer recall their motifs. Her hands were fine-boned, the nails unpainted, knuckles a bit raw and chapped pink, in need of hand cream; I found them enchantingly beautiful.

*I stood behind her while she paid for her breakfast. I recall thinking the style of her pocketbook was cool. I don't remember now what it looked like.

*Her face wore that mildly unhappy cast people's faces have when they're going to work in the mornings and haven't quite finished the process of stuffing away enough of their real life's problems to appear together and professional. Just ever so slightly fragile.

I had no contact with anyone queer in the country. To my knowledge I'd met three trans people in my whole life. I'd dated a grand total of one woman. All my other previous relationships had been with men.

And none of that mattered, because I was in love. Just like that.

I don't know how I knew, but I knew, and the certainty was simple and clear and easy: I knew I wanted to ask her to dinner, and I knew I wanted to know her on whatever terms she was comfortable being known. I knew I wanted to give her footrubs and brush her hair and ask her about her day and memorize which of her coworkers were giving her grief.

And I didn't ask her out. Because I was late for work. Late enough that it didn't matter if I stopped to get breakfast at the Sainsburys Local, but also late enough that if I stopped to talk to someone I'd be written up again.

I am sure you will agree that this sucks on multiple levels. For one thing it sucks that I was not a person worthy of her, a person not in danger of being fired, a person capable of getting to work on time more than 1 day in 4, a person who could afford to be late long enough to chat her up.

For another thing it's a bit Pink Floyd's The Wall that I was so beaten down by life I was financially and psychologically compelled to crush part of my soul, and who knows, maybe a shot at real love and a beautiful future, in order to remain employed.

It haunts me that there are things that I don't even know I don't know about myself, and that I experienced something that can't be explained, and of course most of all that I will never know whether that feeling of serendipity was accurate.

But the thing that really gets up my nose about this event, the thing that makes me think that any god that exists must be an evil motherfucker, is this:

The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to try for something precious and true and my inability to meet that opportunity were the same moment, brought about by the same set of circumstances. If I hadn't been so late to work I couldn't stop to talk to her, I wouldn't have been in the shop at the same time she was. I would never have seen her.

*Improbably, I was unaware at the time that I had anxiety problems.

[lady-rose-moon]

Clubbing Night

Summary: after a year of nothing with your boyfriend, what's a little bit of fun with a sexy man that you meet at the club?

Warnings: 18+, smut, toxic bf, alcohol is drunk, loki should be a warning so... loki

A/N: so this is just to put something in between "Little Variant" so I hope you like it!

The club was always an easy retreat for you. The loud music beats and the lights swirling all over the place gave you a sense of being dizzy if you tried to walk straight. Nursing a drink as your boyfriend’s arm snaked around the small of your waist was usual for him and you. Whenever he wanted to visit the club, he would always buy you a revealing dress and drag you down into the club, uncaring of if you weren’t feeling or not. 

Standing at the bar, your boyfriend grabbed your wrist and pulled you close, whispering into your ear viciously, “stay here and look pretty. I’m going to dance with some lovely ladies.”

You nodded numbly and ordered another drink as you watched your boyfriend wave through the crowds to get to one of the lovely women dancing alone on the floor with a martini in her hand. The loud music thundered throughout your body as you kept your eyes locked on your boyfriend until they began to drift, as if compelled, to a man leaning against the wall opposite you. You downed your martini and turned back to the waiter, ordering another as your eyes tried to find your boyfriend.

After a few moments of searching, your eyes landed on your boyfriend venturing into the bathrooms with the pretty lady from the dance floor. Sighing, you sipped your martini and stretched your legs in front of you, feeling the short dress riding up your thighs as you shuffled on the bar stool. Suddenly, someone stood beside you and smiled politely at the barman as he yelled over the music, “one pint of mead, my good sir, many thanks!”

You gazed up out of pure curiosity and you were floored when you realised that you were staring at the very man that had caught your eye just minutes before. Your heart began to race as you stared up at the man. His jaw looked like it could cut diamonds, it was that sharp! His shoulders were broad but not like a bodybuilder’s, just the exact width that showed he was impressively strong but also that he didn’t obsess over working out. His adam's apple bobbed as he talked, prominent on his throat as you imagined biting down into that neck and leaving your claim on him. Frustratingly, your panties were already dampening and your thighs pressing hurriedly together. 

His green eyes met yours and his thin lips spread into such an attractive smirk that made your core throb with a need that you realised hadn’t been given to you in a long while when with your boyfriend. Then, the Gods be damned, the asshole added insult to injury by beginning to speak with a voice that seemed as if it was dipped in honey, “yes, darling? Is everything alright?”

Your cheeks flushed hurriedly and you averted your eyes, pulling your martini close to your chest as you stared down at it. Hearing a deep chuckle, your heart accelerated as the man turned and rested his back against the bar while bringing his pint to his lips, eyes scouring over the crowd as he did. After a minute, he began again, “you came with your boyfriend, right? How’s that going?”

You sighed and downed the rest of your martini before meeting the man’s inquisitive gaze, “badly,” you lamented, “he’s currently fucking a girl way prettier than I am in one of the bathrooms.”

“A girl prettier than you? I had no idea such a person existed,” the man winked and you rolled your eyes. Smooth, you thought with a grin but the man began again, “in all seriousness, men don’t understand a treasure before them until they lose it. Dance with me.”

He held out his hand to you and, needing the thrill, you took it eagerly and allowed him to pull you onto the dance floor. His hand rested on your hip and the other snaked around your head to pull the pins out of your hair so that your hairstyle would fall around your shoulders. The music was blaring around you and you were pressed up against this man, his chest to yours with a very appealing view of your breasts showing from the top of your dress. The both of you swayed together, the man beginning to slowly grind forward when he was sure you were comfortable.

With his hips steadily grinding against your front, you felt the beginnings of hardness in his pants as his hand slid from your hip to the small of your back, achingly close to grasping one cheek of your ass. Your eyes met his and saw how his eyes were clouded with lust, lust for you, only you. With a brave breath, you stood on your toes and pressed your lips furiously against his, moaning as he kissed back with ferocity. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you continued to kiss, one leg lifting up against his waist with his free hand holding your thigh to keep you there, the steady sway of his hips eliciting a soft moan against his lips as his clothed cock brushed against your soaked panties. Pulling away for air, the man leaned down and began to spread kisses across your neck and you whimpered happily against him as he did, pressing your hips closer to his and feeling him release a breathy laugh in response. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he growled against your lips, his teeth pulling your lip away before letting it go with a proud smirk. Watching you nod, the man lead you to the bathrooms. 

When you were inside, he sensed your nervousness and turned to you, cupping your cheek and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before whispering, “I’ll let you leave. You have a minute to decide.”

You stared at him in shock as your heart raced and your core throbbed, you hadn’t felt this horny for someone in a long while. Your boyfriend was barely acknowledging you anymore, he always went off with a girl the moment you stepped through the club’s doors, he never paid attention to you at home, never attended to your needs in bed and only took what he wanted. Then there’s this man, this man that gave you a chance to back out if you didn’t feel up to it, a man who had just danced with you and hadn’t looked at you with pity, a man who had attempted small talk. Like Hell, you were going to pass this up!

When the minute passed and you hadn’t moved, the man smirked and prowled towards you and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips, his eyes fluttering shut with yours as he enjoyed the taste of your lip gloss and his tongue expertly studied your mouth as he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. As if by magic, your panties were gone and his pants were down, his cock nudging at your weeping entrance. 

“Are you sure?” the man whispered gently, his head falling to your neck, his luscious lips peppering kisses across the skin and hearing your breath hitch.

You managed to grab his long black hair with one hand and you nodded before his cock pushed inside your aching pussy and he gasped in pleasure against your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his full length seated inside you, you hadn’t expected him to be this huge and you were taking all of him! 

The man waited a moment for you to adjust before slamming your back against the tiles of the bathroom and beginning to pound into you, his brows furrowed as he processed the intense pleasure that flowed through him as he thrust into you. He bared his teeth and bit down into your neck, eliciting a pleased moan from your mouth as his free hand cupped one of your breasts through your small dress, playing with your hard nipple through the fabric. 

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” Loki breathed darkly against your ear, his thrusts becoming harder as your thighs shook around his waist, “I could do the shit that he never did. Thinking I'm gonna steal you from him, I could be such a gentleman.”

You moaned beneath him, staring up into his eyes as you nodded eagerly, seeing the possibilities of what this man could give you. Already, he had been much more of a boyfriend to you than your own boyfriend had for the year you had been dating. The thoughts left your mind as his cock increased its thrusts inside you as one of his hands held your hands up above your head as the other began to toy with your clit, bringing forth the drowning feeling of an orgasm that you hadn’t felt in years. 

“You’re so beautiful,” the man breathed, watching as your eyes rolled back, his cock driving into the deep parts that your bastard of a boyfriend probably didn’t even know existed. “I’m Loki,” he growled against your ear, watching your eyes snap to him before another loud moan was released from your throat, “now moan it as I make you cum.”

Loki. His name was Loki! Oh, a sexy name for a sexy man! You thought as his thrusts became sharper, more precise as your high approached rapidly with the calculated twists of his fingers against your clit and the force of his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars. You breathed heavily and moaned out your name as you whined loudly, your eyes opening just long enough to watch Loki throw his head back in pleasure and release an erotic moan of his own. 

“Loki!” you moaned, his name was the only thing running through your mind as your spiralled down into your orgasm, repeating his name like a broken record as electricity ran through your body and sent you over the edge, coating his cock in your release.

You didn’t have to wait much longer as the man above you moaned darkly into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering and his balls tightening before he released his cum inside you at the same time as he pressed his lips hungrily against yours. You moaned happily and desperately cupped his cheeks after he let go of your wrists to pull him closer to you.

Moments passed and you pulled away from the kiss, the thrill of what had happened roaring through your veins as you smiled up at Loki. “That was more than a dance,” you quipped tiredly, hearing him chuckle and you watched as he helped you slip your panties back on.

“Indeed,” he hummed, pulling up his own pants as he smirked at you, “what do you say, pet? Could I be a better boyfriend than him?”

You grinned and got to your feet, cupping his cheek and pressing another hungry kiss to his lips which he quickly reciprocated. When you pulled away, you whispered to him, “Call me.”

You slipped out of the bathroom after providing Loki with your number and you headed back to the bar. Your boyfriend was there and he did not look happy at the fact that you had left your place at the bar. Sighing, you pulled on your best smile and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, “hey, baby!”

Your boyfriend grabbed your arms and pulled you in front of him and he growled, “where have you been? I told you to sit here and look pretty, not to wander off and grab the attention of anyone else.”

You stared at him innocently although you were seething on the inside, “I had to go to the bathroom, I’m sorry baby!”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and kept a tight grip on your wrist as he stalked out of the club and hailed a taxi. The drive home was full of tension but you ignored it with a bright smile on your face as you rested your head on his shoulder, allowing your mind to wander to the delicious fucking you had received from Loki in the bathrooms. 

When you got back inside your apartment, your boyfriend pinned you to the wall and sealed your lips in a fierce kiss but you bit down on his lip, causing him to yell and pull away. “What the fuck?!” he yelled, his fingers gently holding his lip as he glared at you, “what is wrong with you?!”

“Get out, I’m sick of being your toy that you can play with. Go fuck your whores, I hate the sight of you!” you sneered, your chest heaving as your boyfriend scowled and stalked up to you. Before he could touch you, you flipped a little notch in one of your rings and the spike that was hidden flipped up and you held it to his jugular, “touch me and you’re gone. I promise. Get out.”

Yelling all the swears under the sun, the man who was your boyfriend opened your front door and walked out, slamming it behind him. You hurried over to the door, secured the chain on the door and locked it behind him. Sighing in relief, you headed into the bathroom to clean up.

An hour later, you were peacefully perched on your sofa when your phone lit up with a call and you stared at it curiously before picking it up, “hello?”

“Hello, pet,” the honeyed voice purred down the receiver and you shuddered happily at the sound, “miss me?”

You grinned and leaned back on your sofa, knowing that you would have a much better experience with Loki than you ever would with your ex.

~~~~~~

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

@lokisgoodgirl

@lokisninerealms

@evelyn-kingsley

@slpnbty2001

@jennyggggrrr

@hahaha12123445

@ozymdias

@holdmytesseract

@itsybitchylittlewitchy

[keyh0use]

Kinktober Day 15: Praise Kink

Rafe being the most stuck-up, pretentious kook the mainland has ever had the displeasure of hosting

Contrary to what Rafe had spent the better part of their relationship believing, Barry didn't graduate in the Outer Banks.

After being introduced to high school buddies while down on the cut, it was an easy assumption to make.

But that wasn't the case. Barry's family had moved to the mainland during his senior year which meant he had to finish the last semester at a new school where he knew no one. That part of his life was very short lived and according to the dealer, unimportant to disclose.

It wasn't like, a private school, y'know? Nothin' like The Kook Academy or whatever, Barry had told Rafe one evening. But everyone was way better off than my folks, I got made fun of for it. Not a big deal, though.

Only Rafe did find that to be a big deal, couldn't imagine a time where Barry wasn't how he is now; mean and confrontational and trigger-happy.

Like a beacon calling him to relive the worst months of his life, Barry receives an invite to his highschool reunion and like everything else, can't hide it from Rafe.

"You're going," insists the boy.

"The hell I am," counters Barry. "Bunch'a assholes I don't wanna waste a night I could be with you on."

Rafe tells him, "Oh, I'm going too."

Arguing with the kook—who was not only an excellent negotiator but could also cry on command—wasn't something Barry did lightly, so with a heavy sigh he agreed.

That was how the older man ended up in front of his old high school, looking the same way it did all those years ago. Only now Barry was dressed exceptionally nice, something he was accustomed to after being with Rafe and forced to attend every prestigious event on the North side, mingling amongst the kooks like he was one of them—and maybe he was, after all this time.

The entryway was decorated with cheap looking fairy lights, glittering white and bright now that the sun had fully set. Everything was so familiar it was unsettling and Barry kept a firm grip on Rafe's hand, a silent plea not to be left alone for even a second in this terrible place. It wasn't that Barry was bullied or anything, just that almost all of these people grew up as upper middle class and had brand-name clothing and fancy Christmas vacations to show for it, a stark contrast to the dealer's upbringing. As someone who spent most of his life in the Outer Banks, Barry could attest that not even the snootiest kook would blindly turn their nose up at him, too familiar with how the other side lived down in the cut. Besides, both sides of the island shared moments together, usually on the beach at the end of summer, and Barry had always had fond memories surrounding those days. Especially when Rafe waltzed into his life. But he supposes it all makes sense; every one of the families in this little town live the exact same cushy way, so it's inevitable that when some boy from the barrier islands shows up with scuffed shoes and second-hand clothes, naturally he would be beneath them. There's a large frame propped up on a table just outside the bustling auditorium filled with grad photos, and Barry can physically feel his boy grin as he's tugged over to it. Blue eyes scour the last names printed beneath the black-and-white pictures but Barry isn't interested in reliving his bad hairstyles, back when he didn't have a clue how to properly care for his curls and instead took the moment to try and make out who was in attendance. Some of the football jocks, clearly, given how obnoxious they were. An English teacher Barry was fond of because she would get side-tracked easily and go on rants instead of making them do work. The vice principal, who now appeared to have been promoted, taking photos with former students with a big, practiced grin plastered on his face.

Once Rafe had snapped a photo of Barry's awful picture, and presumably sent it to Sarah, they were joining the hordes of people from the older man's past. But as the evening slowly went by, Barry hadn't considered who he had at his side. Rafe—who usually carried himself with an air of superiority—was ramping his conceitedness up. They made rounds and the kook was perfectly attuned to his man's demeanour, picking up on Barry's fidgeting and terse words, knowing to turn his nose up at the people before them.

When some guy who used to gang up on Barry in gym class comes over to start bragging about some start-up, claiming it's the next best thing and he's at the top of the game, Rafe listens with the most uninterested look until the other man starts to stumble over his words.

Rafe has a ton of accomplishments under his belt from working with Cameron Industries—seeing how he's their best negotiator and has closed an unbelievable amount of deals in his short few years in the business. The kook will gloat for a few minutes and then smoothly change the conversation to Barry by saying I owe everything to my husband, without his continued support who knows where I'd be and it's so genuine and proud the older man can't find it in him to feel embarrassed, even when Rafe continues to boast about him.

The same process repeats, people will make their way over and try to impress the well-dressed kook to no avail, Rafe only being polite to those who don't make his man all tense and jittery.

Then a woman Barry vaguely recognizes joins them and gets a little too friendly. The older man feels like he's suffering from a spell of insanity at just how upset he gets and how fast, after all, people were drawn to Rafe and flirted with him everywhere they went; the country club, dinner dates, the damn gas station. It always pissed Barry off but this time, watching some random girl from senior year bat her lashes at the kook is too much.

Barry opens his mouth but Rafe beats him to the punch, rejecting the advances without missing a beat and doing it rudely, like the boy is disgusted. And Rafe always does that, too, has never in all their years of being together strayed for even a second, never letting the compliments get to him.

Pride swells in Barry's chest and it's overwhelming, the love he feels.

For a moment the woman can only stare in shock and then her husband is looping an arm through hers and introducing himself.

"Let's go somewhere," Barry leans over to whisper once they're left standing alone.

Rafe takes a sip of the watery cider from a clear plastic cup, mumbling against the rim, "Now?"

"Yeah, now."

With a slow nod, Rafe slips his hand into Barry's and they make their way outside into the dimly lit hallway, only a few people rushing by on the way to the bathrooms.

"You wanna go home?" asks Rafe.

"Nah, not yet," Barry answers. "Havin' you here makes this shit bearable."

Rafe can't wipe the smile off his face as they walk the corridors hand-in-hand, talking idly until Barry tries the door on a dark classroom, finding it unlocked.

The lights aren't switched on as the kook is ushered inside, Barry swiftly closing the door behind them and crowding Rafe against a wall to kiss him heatedly.

There's only one thing on Barry's mind and that's being inside his beautiful boy, leaving a trail down Rafe's throat as he yanks on his own belt.

"You're such a good boy, y'know that?" whispers Barry, sucking harshly on the skin just below Rafe's collar. Hands twist in his dress shirt, black fabric wrinkling but neither of them care in the moment.

Rafe does know—how could be not, when his man is always reminding him? But the compliment makes his belly swoop and his cock jump, half hard in his slacks already, he'll never getting tired of hearing it.

Footsteps fall just outside the door and urgency sets in, Barry turning the kook around, Rafe's cheek pressed against the cool chalkboard as the two of them work together to get his pants and briefs to pool around his ankles.

Barry yanks down his own zipper and feeds his hard cock through the opening, spitting into his palm to smooth down his shaft. Precome drools from the tip, connecting a sticky string from his slit to Rafe's puckered rim where they teasingly meet.

Both of Rafe's hands flatten against the board on either side of his head, panting into the dark room as he impatiently waits, mindlessly squirming in an attempt to get friction.

"I love how desperate you get," Barry mumbles, holding the base of his dick and smacking the tip against Rafe's hole.

The boy snaps in a bratty tone, "Do you like fucking me? 'Cause you're about to miss your chance." His prick hasn't flagged since he got hard, even with all the waiting and Rafe knew without looking there was a small puddle of his precome pooled on the ugly tile floor.

"Yeah fuckin' right," counters Barry, finally easing his fat cockhead in the boys greedy hole. "Could do this anywhere I want, tease you as much as I want, smack you around as much as I want. You're so good to me, baby, letting me do anything to you." Once he's fucked all the way in, one strong arm wraps around Rafe's stomach and his other hand holds the kooks hip in a bruising grip. "You're so fucking sexy when you're mean, actin' like a spoiled little brat—"

"Your fault," gasps Rafe.

Barry's hips are snapping forward, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the spacious room almost as loud as their combined moaning. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd give you anything," pants out Barry. "You feel so good, so tight around me, fuck."

"Make me come," demands Rafe, though it's followed by a whimper. The kooks ego has inflated tenfold since the two men got together, a damn near constant stream of praise falling from Barry's mouth to shower Rafe.

It doesn't matter if he burns the chicken to a crisp or his teeth accidentally graze the underside of Barry's prick too hard—Rafe is such a good boy, such a good cocksucker and the older man worships the ground he walks on.

It's intoxicating and addicting to have a man like Barry, who's tough and strong and unfriendly want him so ardently, to be willing to do whatever it takes to keep the boy happy.

Leaning forward to kiss devotedly over Rafe's clothed shoulder, Barry reminds him, "Good boys don't come without asking permission and you're so good," while speeding up the thrusting. "So go on, baby, ask me."

One of Rafe's hands slide down and off the chalkboard to curl around the arm baring across his stomach and he cranes his neck to look back pleadingly, taking the fucking as quietly as possible given their location but he's losing his composure, shamelessly whining.

"Please?" the boy asks sweetly, glassy eyes wide.

Barry crowds in closer until his whole front is flush with Rafe's back, more rocking into him than actually thrusting, keeping his cock buried deep.

"Please what, baby?" Barry asks.

Rafe begs brokenly, "Please can I come?" while rocking back on the thick length pressed heavenly against his bundle of nerves.

Keeping the kook pinned in place Barry reaches down to wrap a firm fist around his cock. "Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, baby boy, make a mess," he encourages.

Come paints the concrete wall in thick ropes, Barry's hand working Rafe over until he's squeezing his eyes shut in oversensitivity, rim squeezing around the cock pistoning into him.

A litany of praise falls freely from Barry's mouth when he empties inside his boy, lips pressed against Rafe's nape and eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

Barry helps right the boys clothing, kissing over Rafe's ruddy cheeks while smoothing out any wrinkles he may have caused in the boys dress shirt before doing the same to himself.

"You sure you don't wanna go home?" asks Rafe, tucking a curl behind his man's ear. "I just wanted to show you you've got it good, much better than those assholes."

"That's why you dragged me all the way here?" Barry can't suppress an eye roll, palms trailing up and down Rafe's sides. "I know I got it good, baby, I have you." this could technically be an extra from my they don't know they're dating fic that I've only half written, as almost all of the little details are from it

[chellestrash]

something different 

Frank Castle x GN!Reader 

Summary: Frank needs some help with his hair.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 886

A\N: @omgchloe​  and I came up with this the other day when we talked about how different Frank’s hair looks in season 2 vs season 1 and I decided to write a little thing based on that discussion we had, hope you'll like it! Thank you @garciamorales​ for proofreading!

Frank was never really one to put much thought into the way he looked. Not in a messy or distasteful way, of course, he was just one of those guys who didn’t really care much. The same pair of black, heavy combat boots, a dark shirt and some jeans, sometimes a jacket thrown on top, were an honest description of his outfits almost every single day.

You didn’t mind that, why would you? His torso looked nice in the tighter long sleeved shirts he chose to wear, and his jeans hugged his ass in a very flattering way. There was nothing to complain about. He kept his hair short usually, the top only a bit longer than the shaved sides, it was easy to maintain, he didn’t mind the hair growing out a bit before he'd ask you to trim it again. But not this time.

Frank glances up at his reflection in the mirror quickly before looking back down to his phone resting against some bottles on the counter by the sink. He sighs frustrated before tapping the screen a couple of times, to replay the video.

“Jesus christ.”

He mumbles, rolling his eyes at the cringy intro, before skipping forward a bit to get to the part of the video that actually explained a way to style his hair. With another frustrated sigh he attempts to follow the steps again, reconsidering his, and partly your decision to grow out his hair and beard.

“God damn it.”

He curses under his breath when he pauses to turn his head and check the progress. His jaw clenched tight as he locks his phone before flipping the screen down on the counter.

The “quick and easy tips to style short hair” turned out to be a bit less quick and easy and a bit too annoying and frustrating. After a moment of consideration, he leans down to grab the electric razor out of one of the drawers.

“Hey Frank, can i-“

You push the bathroom door open and step inside, the unfinished sentence quickly slipping past, and your eyes glance from the mess on the counter to the clippers in Frank's hand.

“Midlife crisis?”

You joke and he squints his eyes, unamused.

“Very funny, came up with that one on your own?”

He asks, turning back towards the mirror, and you nod before walking over to him.

“Yeah, I'm just talented like that.”

You point out, and he scoffs at your answer, shaking his head slightly before plugging the razor in.

“You need help?”

You ask, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter next to the sink.

“No.”

He answers quickly, turning his face to the side, but glancing right back at you a moment later.

“Yeah.”

You breathe out a laugh and lean over to the side, grabbing the trimmer from his hand.

“Thought you wanted to grow it out?”

You point out, looking up at him, and he sighs.

“Yeah, just…can't make it work.”

He shrugs, watching his hair in the mirror as he turns from side to side.

“You look like a poser.”

He scoffs again with an unimpressed expression, but you notice that tiny little smile right in the corner of his mouth.

”S’why I want it short again.”

He nods towards the razor, and you nod to agree with him. Gesturing for him to step closer to you, you put the clippers back on the counter before reaching your hands up to push your fingers through his hair.

“What were you trying to do?”

You ask, deciding to help him give his new hairstyle one more chance.

“Just…don’t want them in my face.”

He answers quietly, his hands resting on your thighs while he stands between your legs right in front of you.

“Okay, lets just-“

You start but don't finish, focusing on the task, attempting to tame Frank's thick, dark hair with some gel, a whole lot of hope and a pinch of improvisation. Trying your best not to get distracted by the way his eyes scan around your face, the way his face is only inches apart from yours, or how he rubs over the skin on your thigh with his thumb.

“There.”

You pull your hands away after some time, smiling brightly at him, happy with the way you, in your opinion, managed to pull it off.

Frank looks up at the mirror behind you, and you watch his eyebrows raise, his mouth turning into that little pout he sometimes does when he agrees with or approves of something.

“How'd you do that?”

He asks, finally looking down at your face again. You grin, proud of your work and happy that you managed to get his hair to sit in a way that didn’t bother him.

“I just guessed, I'll show you tomorrow.”

He chuckles with a small smile when you shrug.

“You did good, sweetheart.”

He nods, turning his head from side to side and checking his hair in the mirror one last time.

“Well…it helps that you're so damn pretty.”

He scoffs loudly again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at your words before tilting your head up slightly to pull you into a kiss, feeling his smile against your lips you relax into his touch, happy that tomorrow you'll get to do this again.