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starstruckgrrl · 10 months

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MORE TAMAKI🙏🙏🙏

who am i to deny you 🫡

ꕤ*. synopsis: tamaki doesn’t do so well at hero events, but he’s grounded with you there. not to mention you give him the perfect motivation!

↳ ♡₊˚.warnings: smut, car sex, he says “i love you”, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sub!tamaki, pet names, established relationship, lil bit of edging, cute tamaki naps for aftercare :3

a/n: sorry if the way i capitalize some stuff has changed, i want to make it easier to read!! i really hope you like it, give me some feedback or suggestions pls!!

ever since he’s met you, tamaki has been doing a lot better at handling any event that comes his way. his friends take notice, praising him for sticking around “this long!”

he owes his success to you, who he will often scamper off to. you’re always with him at every event, keeping him grounded and confident(ish).

usually, he’ll take you everywhere with him, making you become his bodyguard against awkward conversations or slightly passive aggressive behavior. however, you know that it is good for him to do some things on his own so he won’t feel so horrible when you’re busy and can’t escort him everywhere.

so the pro-hero Suneater is here, after several minutes of you gently pushing him, at a table with Deku, Dynamight, Lemillion, Red Riot, Nejire Chan, and a few other names from high school. while he does feel much better that nejire and mirio are there with him, the potential comfort he might have had is ruined when everyone delves into questions about his personal life.

tamaki mentally curses mirio, who asks first, “Suneater! i haven’t met that girl you’ve been parading around yet? when will i get to meet her?”

“her name is ——, and you can meet her soon, i guess? she said she would follow me over soon.” tamaki replied.

“she’s very nice, Lemillion! i met her once while getting a drink at an event a week or so ago, and she was nothing but kind!” Deku shot out, happy to have met a nice person.

nejire never passes up an opportunity to talk about something happy, so she began her rambling, “she’s so preeeetty! can you ask her about what products she uses in her hair? does she have extensions? does she wear wigs? if so, where does she get such natural ones?”

the indigo-haired hero you cherished began to sink in his seat, visibly overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions that had begun after the mention of his date, but felt better when he felt your hand pat him on the shoulder.

“hi, baby. are you doing okay?” you asked, loud enough for people sitting near him to hear, but to him nonetheless.

he began to sit up in his seat, the pet name being comforting enough to help him regain some composure, “yes, i’m okay, how are you?”

you gave him a small smile as you sat in your spot next to him, confirming that you were feeling alright.

mirio was the first to speak to you, “are you ——?! i’ve heard so much about you!! well, pieces about you, tamaki is kind of private about your relationship, but pieces nonetheless!!”

“yes, that’s me! it’s lovely to meet tamaki’s best friend!” you replied, recognizing tamaki’s description of his grade-school friend.

“AWWW, Suneater, you’ve told her about me!” mirio shouted.

tamaki smiled up at him, how could he ever think that he wouldn’t tell everyone about the person who motivated him so much?

as the evening went on, you had been asked plenty of questions, mainly by nejire. you had no complaints, as you found everyone thoroughly entertaining and sweet.

the whole time, you were keeping physical contact, even in small ways, with tamaki. it was the best way to make sure he knew you were still there for him and thinking about him, even as you conversed with the others.

over time, your small touches turned into something else. clasping his hand turned into rubbing his thigh, slight pokes turned into tracing soft circles on his bicep. the little things meant the world to this man, so you knew he was getting your idea.

about 3 hours in, tamaki’s social battery had been completely sucked dry. he gave you a special look and squeezed your hand twice to let you know he wanted to go, a signal the both of you had come up with.

you cleaned up your area at the table, stacking your used dishes neatly for a waiter/waitress to pick up with ease, and stood up. you patted yourself down as your lover stood up, and you all exchanged goodbyes as the both of you walked out, your arm wrapped around his.

the both of you walked out to the car, and tamaki slid his hand down to your waist and pulled you closer. you were stunned, he rarely initiates things, especially in public.

“tama” you cooed in his ear.

tamaki led you to the backseat of the car, opened the door for you, and sat next to you. he kept the door slightly ajar for what he would call “ventilation” when you questioned him later.

you kissed him first, a small but sweet kiss. your partner, however, kissed you again. longer, deeper. he grabbed you and held you close to him, and he leaned against the back of the seat. he began to unzip his pants when you stopped him.

“are you sure, baby?” you asked, knowing his fear of having all eyes on him.

“yes, i love you too much, please.” he replied, asking you to please continue.

you nodded at him, and got on top of him. you gave him kisses on his neck and bit him softly as you pulled down his pants to let his cock spring out.

you flipped up the dress he bought you special for this event, and moved your underwear to the side. tamaki brought his hand down to rub small circles on your clit, getting you wet for him.

you softly pushed his hand away, then brought yourself up, then down onto his dick. he let out a small whimper and you shushed him, “shh, baby, we don’t want anyone to see, do we?”

tamaki swallowed thickly, and stuttered out, “n-no”

“maybe you’d like that, dirty boy.” you teased, and he whined in response.

you bounced up and down softly on him, the friction of the base of his cock teasing your clit.

then, suddenly, you heard voices outside, a mere 10-15 ft away.

“oh, hey, someone’s car door is open. should we close it?” said one of the voices.

tamaki’s eyes widened, but he never stopped bucking up into you, and you never stopped riding him. he whimpered quietly, and you put your thumb in his mouth to silence him.

“nah, let’s just leave it. someone might be coming back to it in just a minute.” said another voice.

the both of you heard their footsteps trail away, and you looked at each other. tamaki leaned up to kiss you, and you could tell he was getting close. he was rutting into you from below, and it made you giggle.

“don’t cum until i say, tama!” you reprimanded.

he nodded quickly, confirming his submission.

you were also getting close, and tamaki always knew that you should cum first. you slammed down onto him harder, making his tip kiss your cervix every time. his cock was rubbing against a sweet spot inside you the deeper you went, and you came with a moan of his name.

as you were going through the aftershocks of your orgasm, tamaki began to beg.

“please, can i cum? please.” he whimpered out, his legs shaking slightly.

you kissed his forehead and gave him permission, and his cock twitched as he finally let go of the orgasm he had been holding. his cum warmed your insides and gave you an extra, satisfying feeling as it began to leak down.

“i’ll drive us back home, sweetheart, you rest. i know you’re tired” you told him as you slowly got up, grabbing a blanket that rested in the back pocket of the car seat, special for any sleepy car rides.

you laid tamaki down in the backseat and covered him in the fluffy blanket. you adjusted his pants and his underwear to make him as comfortable as possible.

you got out, adjusted your dress, and closed the car door. you got into the front seat and turned the car on and the heating up so your partner would be cozy on the ride home.

#anime smut #mha #mha smut #my hero academia #tamaki amajiki smut #sub tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki smut #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader

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risuola · 10 months

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REAL LIFE SURPRISE — GN. READER x GOJO SATORU

Life has been heavy on your shoulders lately, so instead of going out with your friends on a halloween night, you decided to stay in bed, catch up on the last episodes of JJK and just rest. With that in mind, you fall asleep while watching the second season, but what you couldn't prepare yourself for is the voice that wakes you up.

cw: none really, except for anime spoilers, season 2, but everything written happened already in the anime — 1,4k words

a/n: it's just my brain babbling, don't mind me. I had this idea for a long time now, it's written quickly so errors might occur!

It was halloween night, you're alone in your house. Life has been heavy on you lately, so you decided to stay at home, binge watch anime - you had few eps of your favorite anime to catch up on. You've been so busy for the past few weeks that you weren't even thinking about watching JJK, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

And you did just that; snuggled with blankets, you put the second season on. First part somewhat eased your mind. Gojo's memories really filled you with melancholy, it cleared many things from what you watched in the first season. Then the Shibuya arc started. It was exciting, even though you kinda knew what will happen, you read the manga, but the animation just hits different.

Your eyelids began growing heavy, the pillow below your cheek seemed to suck your consciousness away and finally, you just passed out. The sounds of episodes playing in the background did nothing to wake you up, even the light from the screen wasn't bothering you as you dozed off into the dream lands. And you'd probably be sleeping until morning. You'd wake up not knowing where you really stopped watching, but that's okay - you can always start over, you loved the anime after all. But you didn't sleep that long.

You woke up nervously, the sound of a long hum made your eyes flutter open in an instant. You noticed the screen in front of you, it wasn't playing anymore, the video stopped and you recognized the scene from the manga - Gojo just got sealed into the prison realm, but when you looked closer, you could tell the screen was glitching. It never did this before.

"You're awake," the voice reminded you of itself and you almost shit your pants. Someone was in your room, someone was inside your house. And the tone... it seemed oddly familiar, you felt like you know it from somewhere, but there's not a single person you could really tie it to. But you knew the voice, you knew it for sure.

Without thinking much, you grabbed the first thing near you. Armed with the soft-cover notebook you jolted up, ready to aim the deadly weapon at the intruder, but your heart stopped at the sight.

A man was there, sprawled on the chair next to your desk. His long legs clad in black pants were spread widely as he was sitting comfortably, leaning against the backrest as if he wasn't inside your house. But it wasn't his large form that shocked you the most. It was his features. A human, but ethereal in every way. In the faint light of the led strips on your wall, you could tell his hair was light, maybe even white, just as the thick row of lashes that framed his eyes. His face was gorgeous, too perfect to be real but he was real, he was there.

"Let me turn the light on," he chuckled, noticing how much you struggled to see him in the pathetic imitation of lights. He got up, nearly hitting his head on the cheap chandelier in the middle of your ceiling and once his long fingers flicked the lights on, you nearly passed out. He really had white hair and it was easy to tell that it was white by nature. There was not a single discoloration near his roots nor a sign of it being dyed. It wasn't a wig either. And his eyes... bright blue, almost glowing with their crystalline beauty.

"What the hell is going on?", you asked, still gripping the notebook for dear life as if it was going to harm anyone. You probably couldn't kill a fly with it, not to say this tower of a man.

"Hmmm, I'm probably just as confused as you are," he replied, this time dropping his weight onto the edge of your bed. "I got sealed, my bad. I suppose the prison realm sent me into some kind of different dimention."

You blinked at him, taking in the information but your brain refused to register it properly. What the hell does he mean he got sealed?

"It's quite odd actually," he continued, "I can't really feel any cursed energy in here, or maybe my six eyes are not working all that well in this world. I hoped you'll tell me what kind of dimension it is. Ah, sorry, how rude of me. Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you."

"The fuck you mean Gojo Satoru?!", you nearly screamed, throwing the notebook at him, doing about as much damage as you suspected. None. He just dodged it. "It's not a dimension, it's the real world. You do not exist, you're a character from anime, for god's sake..."

"That's harsh, sweetheart," he chuckled.

Maybe it was a prank? Maybe your friends wanted to scare the shit out of you, maybe it was a cosplayer? Very good one, but it would make more sense than him being here. How the fuck he even got here? You're sure you locked all doors and windows were closed as well. And why was your computer stuck on the frame in the video?

"It's not funny," you whined, getting up from the bed and leaving the room to check on the doors. It really frightened you to see that everything was exactly how you left it. It was closed in the same, very odd way you always do it, with the upper lock twisted two times, the lower one twisted just once and the key still hanging from the keyhole. The windows were just as you left them as well, all closed except one in the kitchen - the one that's too small for anyone to squeeze in and it had an anti-mosquitoes mesh outside. You were also on the 7th floor. What was going on?! "It's really not funny..."

"You seem really nervous for someone who just woken up, you know?", the man followed you and when you looked at him, he was standing next to the entrance to your room, leaning against the doorframe. "I must admit, I can't really recognize myself in the mirror, I remember my face slightly different."

"Yeah, like this?", you grabbed your phone and showed him your homescreen. Embarassment of having his picture both there and on the lockscreen you pushed away, it wasn't important right now. His gorgeously blue eyes scanned the wallpaper, the orbs glistened in the harsh light of your screen and you listened to the soft hum he made. You suddenly realized why his voice sounded familiar. It was Gojo's voice. Or rather his voice actor's...

"Oh yes, that's more like it," the man gave it a nod and then turned to look at himself in the small mirror on your wall. "Still handsome though. What you think?"

"You are gorgeous, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT," you almost screamed. What do even do in this situation?

"Well, I suppose I'll stay in this world for as long as my students get me out of the prison realm," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging with nonchalance, completely unbothered by the way he isn't supposed to exist in this world. "What about the cursed energy? Are you heavenly restricted or-"

"There's no such thing as cursed energy in real world. No six eyes, no limitless, no cursed spirits, domain expansions, no nothing. In this world we are just flesh and bones. Strength is measured in brains, muscles and money. Nothing else."

"That's interesting," he paused for a moment, taking in the information. You could tell he was more confused than before but still, he was keeping himself together better than you.

"Listen, it's not like I don't believe you but... is there any way you could prove that you are Gojo Satoru? I mean, I don't even know if it's possible... Fuck, you're not supposed to be anything more than an animated drawing," you shook your head, slowly feeling paranoid. If that was a joke, it really was a good one.

"Prove? I mean, I'm not sure, never needed to confirm my identity," the man chuckled. "If I don't have my powers in here, it might be complicated. But you can check, I'm not dressed as anyone. It's my hair, my face. Jujutsu uniform, though it's slightly bloodied now. I have my blindfold with me."

"Sure, sure... Nevermind, I'm just confused. I'll wash your clothes, I guess... tomorrow I'll get you something to change. You can stay here."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he smiled at you. Stupidly attractive.

Deep down you wished you're sleeping. Maybe it's your brain that's playing tricks on you, maybe it's just a fantasy. There was no way this man was standing here, in your little kitchen right now, waiting for his tea to be made. There was no way he could somehow get out of the screen and just... materialize in your little studio apartment. There was just no way, right?

Right?

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silencedrowns · 1 year

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hi I’m a very long time cosplayer (20+ years experience) who has chronic headache and migraine problems and this is a post about how to prevent your cosplay wigs from giving you painful headaches! Nobody likes wandering around the con in blinding pain and so hopefully this post will help you reduce the chances of this happening.

1. If your wig is way too tight, don’t use it. Get something with a bigger cap. tbh I often wear slightly too big wigs to reduce the pressure! Find out what brands and sellers sell wigs that are comfy on your head and prioritize buying wigs from them! I made a big master list of cosplay wig sellers a while back so here’s a few you might not have known about. Arda (and its Canadian and European sites) sells by far the biggest wigs, but I personally find Classe the most comfortable for my specific head. It’s all very YMMV and it’s totally possible for a wig to not actually be too small but fit your head in an uncomfortable way (Blue Beard on taobao does this to me every time), so just don’t buy from suppliers that do that. Also consider resizing wigs to be larger! For wig clients with extra large heads I like to nip the edge of the wig right behind the ear where your ear and hair from above will cover it and add in a little godet of elastic.

2. Reduce weight! A heavy wig will make head pain much more likely, so here’s a few tips on wig weight reduction!

A) if your wig doesn’t need a ton of volume and is already very dense, rip out some wefts in the bottom half. Anything on the part of your head from the ridge where your head starts going in towards your neck won’t really show unless your wig is very short and it’ll obviously reduce weight instantly! You can replace any missing volume with light crimping or light heat and tease, or leave the wig as is for a natural and silky look without the unnatural volume of a cosplay wig.

B) if you need more volume in your wig, instead of going straight to adding wefts for more volume, see first if combining crimping with heat and tease at the roots will give you the extra volume you need! Crimping or heat and tease adds volume and if you straight up destroy the fiber in the first two inches from the scalp by doing both repeatedly, it’ll add huge volume without you needing to add extra hair! When I do this I like to heat the fiber near the roots, tease it, let it cool, crimp the teased part, let THAT cool, and then brush it out. You can flat out double the perceived volume in the back of the wig this way!

C) if your character has a high ponytail or high pigtails, consider using clip on ponytails that you can easily remove if you need the weight off your head right the fuck now. here’s two tutorials I swear by for making a short wig + clip on combination look more natural! They’re in Japanese but easily comprehensible if you use machine translation thanks to the clear photography. They also help with spreading out the weight on the wig itself, and if your hair is long enough, using a clip on with a fishnet wig cap and clipping through the wig and into your real hair will also he lp make it more secure and distribute weight more evenly.

if your character has high pigtails

if your character has a high ponytail

D) when you need extra wefts, opt for sewing in wefts rather than gluing whenever possible. Glue doesn’t seem heavy but enough of it can make a wig get real heavy REAL fast.

E) redirecting the weight to your entire head and not just the front hairline will feel lighter and give you less forehead tension, which is one of the biggest causes of wig headache. Toupee clips sewn evenly around the edges and a Wig Fix https://therenatural.com (the name brand one, the knockoffs genuinely don’t work half as well) can help with doing this. A Wig Fix will also let you use fewer pins to keep your wig on, which is another cause of wig headache. Can’t suggest trying those enough. There are also some velvet wig grips out there but I find those don’t work quite as well, but they’re by far better than nothing.

3) make sure your wig is easy to remove. A lot of characters have horns or veils or other head things on top of the wig so make sure those can easily come off if you need a wig break! I’m a big proponent of using wig glue or double stick tape to glue strands (face framing layers etc) to your face for a more natural and more flattering look, but if you get headaches from wigs, keep that glue or tape in your bag so if you have to de-wig for a bit, you can get it back on!

4) take the ibuprofen or whatever BEFORE you put the wig on, and not when your wig is already making your head miserable! It’s like taking the ibuprofen before you wear the horrible shoes for a special event; it’s more effective in advance.

5) what are your normal headache triggers? Make sure you’re doing the work to EXTRA avoid them before wearing a cosplay wig. Stay hydrated. Keep up with your electrolytes. If you have any food triggers, make sure you’re managing them properly.

6) try multiple types of wig cap before deciding which ones to use! I’m a big fan of the fishnet kind because I’m in agony every time I try to use the stocking kind. Some people find relief in doing pin curls under their cap, and @/battleangelgif on twitter suggested doing this with damp hair the night before you wear the wig. There are tons of methods! Stretching out fishnet caps can be done more effectively when they’re slightly damp and that’ll make them pinch less. Experiment with what you like best to keep your irl hair in place and once you find a method you like, go for it! Make that your go-to!

7) always remember: wearing a short wig is less miserable than wearing a wig to your ankles. consider very carefully whether or not you can actually handle that wig that’s as long as you are tall. sometimes you just can’t and that’s okay! reduce the length of any super long haired character to hip length and it’ll be FINE. I swear. It’ll still read as super long and it won’t be as terrible.

8) always remember you can just. take the entire wig and cosplay off if you’re in agony. it’s not worth it. don’t do that to yourself. If the migraine hits anyway, just take it off.

Hope some of this might help you out! Focusing on reducing and redistributing weight is what helps me out the most 😌 feel free to reply or reblog or message with questions and I’ll try and get back to you ASAP!

#cosplay #cosplay tutorial #wigs #wig tutorial #cosplay tips #reducing wig weight #I just want to save everyone from blinding cosplay wig induced migraine #nobody likes head pain at the con #hope I was clear enough hhhhhh #yes this is an expansion of a twitter thread I wrote #y’all get the better version

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swaps55 · 24 days

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Hi! I previously asked about Sam’s reasons for initiating with Kaidan in your multiverse fics, thank you for your answer, it was great to read and you’ve really switched back on the side of my brain that likes to analyse literature after uni killed it off lol. I was thinking more about the part where you said

‘I really wanted to push the queerplatonic nature of their relationship - have them be a lot more physically affectionate with each other, but Sam is really keen on physical touch once you give it to him, and the slow burn would have gotten a lot faster, lol’

And my brain is now filled with this AU where they’re exactly how you described them, v touchy feely with each other for a while before a sort of ‘relationship’ or kiss happens. Would you ever consider writing a multiverse fic exploring this concept? I totally get why you wouldn’t as it contradicts Sam’s nature as you said, but man, my mind is reeling with the ‘what-if’s’!!

Love your writing as always and the Cantata re-read count is now aaaatttt maybe 5/6 in the space of 6 months lol. Sending love! 🩷

That anyone cares enough to daydream about, analyze or ask about Opus is just mind blowing to me, so thank you so much for this question!!!!!

So, this may not be exactly what you're after, but I have an AU sitting on a distant backburner that is a Sam character study mashed up with the soulmate-esque idea of "I will find you in any universe."

The general gist is, Kaidan gets yanked out of a universe in which Sam never gets resurrected and the reapers are winning into a universe in which the reapers remained dormant, Sam isn't in the Alliance, and Kaidan died at BAaT. I love the questions it poses and what Sam looks like through such a different lens, but it isn't going to get written any time soon because there are too many challenges with it.

HOWEVER, the dynamic between Sam and Kaidan is different enough that I think a more queerplatonic relationship can exist. The Sam in this universe is a lot more open and free with physical affection.

I wrote a scene that got stuck in my head. It's not great, and I'm not convinced it works, but it does poke at this a little. So here you go!

Kaidan pads out into the living room, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sucking in a breath and letting it out slow. Only part of him is surprised to find the holo screen on, and Shepard tucked up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.

Shepard’s insomnia appears to transcend universes.

Whatever he’s watching looks like some low budget salarian flick, with the silhouettes of a human, an info drone, and a FENRIS mech cracking jokes in the corner of the screen. Kaidan’s heart twists. Same taste in movies, too.

Kaidan almost continues onto the kitchen, not even really sure what he’s after – tea, maybe – but hesitates when he nears the couch. At the brush of their biotic fields Shepard looks up, eyebrow arching ever so slightly. Kaidan looks towards the kitchen, then back to the screen, uncertain.

It’s like looking at home through a mirror. Something he can see, but not touch.

He circles the couch and sits down beside Shepard, who offers him the popcorn bowl without a word. Kaidan shakes his head and scooches over to leave a healthy space between them. Shepard shrugs a nonchalant shoulder and takes another handful for himself, slouching deeper into the cushions.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks.

“Something like that,” Kaidan replies.

Shepard eyes him for a moment before returning his attention to the movie. On the screen, a dozen salarians wearing wigs of human hair march catatonically across the screen.

“Are those salarians supposed to be dressed as humans, or are they supposed to be humans?” Kaidan asks after moment.

“Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he says with a thoughtful tilt of his head. “It’s a take on invasion of the body snatchers, pod people, the like.”

“…Isn’t the point of those that you can’t tell they’ve been invaded?”

A lopsided smile tugs at his lip. “Something gets lost in the cultural translation, yeah.”

“Never understood what you see in this kind of stuff,” Kaidan says with a shake of his head.

“It’s unwatchable.”

Shepard scoffs. “There’s an art to a good B-movie. Ones like this can give you some pretty wild insight into how aliens see everyone else.” He throws a piece of popcorn in the air and catches it neatly. “I should show you Revenge of the Gun. Salarians recreated an Earth western shot-for-shot, but didn’t have a good translation for the audio. They just made up whatever they wanted. So you have a movie that was lost in translation from the start get interpreted by an alien race, then put back through a translator for non-salarians. It’s our own story twice removed through alien eyes.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It’s fucking incredible.”

Kaidan chuckles. On the screen, the info drone sings a jingle aimed at the director’s love of close-up reaction shots. “Well, if the bad movies are so amazing, why the snarky commentary?”

Shepard grins. “Because it’s funny.”

They lapse into silence. But it’s…comfortable. Familiar. Kaidan worries his lip, focusing on the wig-wearing salarians. “Do you not have Blasto here?”

“Blasto? Doesn’t ring a bell, and trust me, it would.”

“Blasto the Jellyfish, with a lover in every port and a gun in every tentacle.” Kaidan shakes his head. “This universe is missing out. You’d love it.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Last I heard, it made quite a stir when they cast an elcor as Blasto’s next lover.”

Shepard snorts.

They fall silent. On screen, a struggling salarian gets shoved into an actual pod, and comes out expressionless, wearing a wig. Kaidan draws his bare feet up on the couch and rests his chin on his knees.

When was the last time he sat down and watched a movie, any movie, much less a mindless, terrible waste of time? Time had become so precious in those final months; he couldn’t afford to waste it on anything. And why? What was precious about it? What was he saving it for? What was going to be left to spend it on?

The only things he spends time on anymore are fear and bad memories.

“You ok?” Shepard asks.

“Fine.”

“You know, if I’d been fighting a losing war to save all sentient life, lost friends, lost a partner, and lost my family, I’m betting I wouldn’t be fine.”

You weren’t, but you hid it so well.

Kaidan makes a noncommittal sound.

Shepard’s gaze rests on him, silent, shrewd, and Kaidan shifts on the couch cushion, keeping his eyes on the screen. Shepard grunts, leans forward and sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“I'm here, you know. I know it's...weird. But. You aren’t alone."

When Kaidan says nothing, Shepard shrugs, and retrieves the popcorn.

Kaidan hunches deeper into himself. How many times had he piled on couches in the ‘Yang’s lounge with the squad? How many times had he and Shepard brushed knees, thighs, dozed on each other’s shoulders? All those casual, intimate touches that were just part of the fabric of life, something he’d never seen or noticed until they were gone?

His eyes slide over to Shepard, whose attention is back on the movie. Before he can think about it any harder, he edges closer. Without a word, Shepard sets the popcorn back down and raises his arm until Kaidan curls into the crook of his side. He hooks Kaidan’s forearm with his fingers, arm a reassuring weight around his shoulders.

He’s soft, solid, warm, all the things Kaidan has lacked.

Like the fight’s gone out of him, Kaidan gives into it and lets his head come to rest against Shepard’s shoulder. A knot in his chest tightens until it’s hard to breathe, but the longer he sits, the longer he stays, it starts to loosen, the lead in his bones a little less heavy.

They watch the movie curled together, Shepard’s hand running up and down his arm. Every now and then one of the jokes draws out a laugh. This close to him, pressed against his ribs, it’s a resonate rumble against Kaidan’s skin, felt as much as it’s heard. Sometimes he fills the silence with commentary, pointing out something about the scene or the context of the joke.

Kaidan says nothing, sometimes listening, sometimes not – either way it doesn’t seem to matter. But when Shepard’s fingers drift towards Kaidan’s hair and idly comb through it, a sigh rattles out of him, ending with a choke and a sound that says nothing but means everything.

Shepard doesn’t say a word, just lets his fingers do the talking, working Kaidan’s scalp, steady and rhythmic. Kaidan closes his eyes, but something in the air changes when Shepard’s gaze settles over him. He feels it without having to see it, like a sixth sense waking up from a long sleep.

It’s a respite. Temporary. Not something he can keep. But in that moment, for the first time in a long time, Kaidan’s heart rests.

#swaps replies #Anonymous #snippet #This is probably a poor example of what you're asking for #It's so emotionally charged #But I think that's what ultimately let's it be queer platonic before either of them are ready for it to be more #In this universe Sam isn't nearly as detached as he is in Opus #So seeing a person like Kaidan in pain would really get under his skin #And he'd want to do something about it #Kaidan is starved for any kind of connection #So Sam would give it #And be surprised when ultimately it means so much to both of them

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renlyslittlerose · 13 days

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I started a hormonal medication almost a decade ago to help manage some of my endo symptoms, but as with any hormonal changes I saw some side effects crop up such as dry skin, break-outs, a more steady mood. Nothing I couldn't deal with, especially if it meant I wasn't living in near constant pain 3 weeks out of the month. But the one thing that really put a dent in my self-esteem was my hair.

My hair used to be relatively thick with natural waves and a lot of volume. When I showered and let it air dry it would naturally turn into loose curls and Veronica Lake-type waves. And it'd hold any style I put in it. But with the hormonal changes suddenly my hair became thin and straight, and lost all its volume. But again, I put up with it because at least I wasn't in pain.

But now, idk what's changed, but over the last year my hair has started to come back. The thickness is back, the volume is back, the waves and curls are back. I don't have to style my hair with foam rollers in the evening to have it be pretty in the morning, don't have to worry about showing thin spots when I wear my hair back, don't have to worry if it's gonna keep getting worse and I should just start wearing wigs.

I'm not a vain person by any stretch, but it feels so good to have my hair back. Like I'm healing or something. Like my endo hasn't taken everything from me.

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aindyghosh · 3 months

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Take Me Home (IronDad fic)

A tight-lipped groan made it out of Peter when the black sack was harshly pulled off his head. He rapidly blinked to adjust to the abrupt absence of darkness. He was pretty sure a look in the mirror would reveal a scrunched-up nose and a grimace contorting his features.

As it was, though, he'd have to make do with his ample imagination. The large goon currently glaring at him did not seem all that inclined to allow him out of the chair, much less produce a mirror to correct his appearance. He could feel his hair sticking out in every direction.

Sadly, that little tidbit of situational awareness had escaped his fellow kidnappee.

"Who the hell are you and where have you brought us?" Flash demanded. "Do you know who my father is? Trust me, this is not the first time someone has kidnapped me and my father hates it when I'm not home for dinner! He's gonna make you regret putting your hands on me! You're gonna be out of a job before you can say sorry!"

Was he trying to scare a bunch of criminals with unemployment?

Goon-number-two — shorter than the first but still huge enough to keep up the intimidating factor, hirsute hands and a sculpted moustache curlier than MJ's hair — took a menacing step forward, his burly arms crossed across his chest. He didn't threaten, or otherwise speak, but it still shut Flash up.

Small mercies.

"Eugene Thompson, right?" A third man entered. Significantly shorter than the other two, with an overall harmless appearance except for the smirk playing at the corner of his nicotine-stained lips. It made Peter's skin crawl. "Son of Harrington Thompson and Rose Thompson. Both respected lawyers, and currently vacationing in a rural village on the outskirts of Darjeeling, India with limited, close to no, available network service." The man bent to the boy's eye level. "Did I miss anything, Flash?"

No answer.

The man knew, much as Peter did, what the silence meant.

Main Goon — because it was evident who was in charge here — petted Flash's hair like one would a stranger's puppy in the park before straightening up to his full height. "But don't worry," he said with the same nasty smirk twisting his near-blackened lips, "You are of no interest to me. Keep your head down, don't cause too much trouble, and you'll be home by the end of the day, yeah?"

He didn't wait for Flash's response and turned his gaze on Peter. It was green and cold. "Hello, there, Peter!" He grinned, resembling a shark baring its teeth at its prey far too much for his comfort. "It's lovely to finally meet you!"

"Who are you?" He slipped a sliver of nervousness into his voice, just the right amount for the man to rule him out as a potential danger.

"I'm glad you asked. My name is Daniel Brooke, and I'm going to be your host for the next few hours." The man spoke in a gentle tone as false as Mr. Leons' black wig.

(The man was a natural blonde and the black wig clashed with his light eyebrows almost as much as Mr. Stark and "Secretary Nudnik", Mr. Stark's latest nickname for Thunderbolt Ross, did.)

"What do you want with us?"

"Another good question. You must be very popular with your teachers," Brooke said (never mind that Flash had demanded those exact same answers a mere few moments ago). The praising inflection set his teeth on edge. "I know your secret, Peter. That's right," he cooed when momentary fear passed through his face — this time, very, very real — before he schooled his features back into neutrality. "Your school may be stupid, your friends can be naïve, but not me. You can't fool me."

Peter swallowed thickly. "I don't have any secrets."

The man laughed. It was a shrill noise, and it clawed at Peter's senses like rusted metal scraping against bone. "That was an admirable attempt, Peter, but I'm afraid it missed your intended mark by a mile." Brooke grabbed the arms of the chair he was tied to, and bent down until he was at his eye level, similar to what he had done with Flash but a little more aggressive. Up this close, Peter noticed the yellow spots on his crooked teeth and the stench of bear that overpowered his otherwise pleasant cinnamon and sandalwood scent. "Your internship with Stark Industries, I know about that."

It took Peter a moment to register Brooke's words, but when he did, a weight that he hadn't even been aware of lifted off his shoulders. He exhaled a breath, shaky not because of his present predicament but because of the uncomfortable lack of distance between them.

Looking at him now, everything that had added to the sinister impression Brooke was so obviously going for, only made him seem a run-of-the-mill part-time villain involving himself in situations that demanded someone of a higher pay grade.

"It's not exactly a secret." Peter couldn't help it here. He'd spent the last few minutes shit-scared imagining all the different ways these people could hurt him if they knew about Spiderman: they could go after May, his friends. Hell, Flash, too. The boy was literally there.

What did they even want from him if it wasn't revenge from Spiderman?

"Yes, but people don't believe you, do they? But I do. I know you're telling the truth."

"Okay?" Peter wouldn't lie, he was a tad creeped out. "Why did that make you want to kidnap us?"

"Flash is collateral. I don't need him. Like I said, he keeps quiet and does what we ask, and he'll be dropped off at his home unharmed." Flash appeared nearly insulted at being waved away dismissively. What was up with people? Everybody was crazy, he decided. "I only want you."

"Why?"

Brooke frowned. "What do you think?" He made a series of pointless vague gestures. "Money, of course. I want Stark Industries to pay the ransom."

"You want a ransom," Peter repeated if only to ensure that he hadn't, all of a sudden, become hard of hearing. Brooke nodded. Okay, then. "You want Stark Industries, the leading tech company in the United States, to pay ransom and for that, you kidnap a lowly intern?"

"You're not a random intern!" Brooke screamed. He looked more offended on Peter's behalf than Peter, himself, was. "You're Stark's personal intern! I know!"

Peter was, honestly, getting tired of Brooke insisting he knew things. News flash, he didn't.

He inhaled a deep breath through his nose, ignored the smell of stale beer and the nearest drainage system that left a bitter taste in his mouth (sometimes, super senses were a bitch severe inconvenience) and let it out equally as slowly. "Even then, Stark Industries has a no-negotiation policy for kidnappings." Mr. Stark had it documented after Afghanistan. It was a whole thing. Considering that he was the only person in SI prone to being kidnapped, nobody else had more than half a trembling tree branch to stand on.

"I'm sure Stark will make an exception for you, seeing as the two of you are so close."

He could feel Flash's eyes burning into the side of his skull. Well, it wasn't like he had ever hidden it. If anything, it was the boy's fault for not believing him in the first place. "I wouldn't be so certain."

Mr. Stark wouldn't make an exception for him, he'd simply track his shoes down — there was a tracker in it; he knew, Mr. Stark knew that he knew, both of them pretended the other didn't — and blast his kidnappers to another continent.

Peter didn't say this from experience. Believe it or not, this was the first time he had been taken hostage for any reason. But Spiderman had been injured in multiple fights, and Mr Stark's mood tended to take a nosedive whenever he received a scratch on his body, and stab wounds unleashed a whole different monster. Entirely dramatic reactions on Mr. Stark's part but the man never listened to him.

So yes, this was a novel adventure for him.

"We'll see. Peter. We'll see." Brooke patted him on his shoulder and promptly walked away, gesturing his minions to follow after him before swinging his hands in a fashion that reminded Peter of his school's band march.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

Peter sighed. As amusing as watching the men was now, he was only prolonging the inevitable. He turned his head to the right, and sure enough, Flash was already staring at him, eyes wide, lips parted, breathing short and fast, his forehead practically inked with a bunch of question marks.

But first things first. "Flash, you need to calm down." The last thing he needed was a fellow kidnappee on the verge of a meltdown.

"You were telling the truth about being Tony Stark's intern?"

Wasn't it wonderful how it took a short, half-balding man with a severe case of bad breath to say it once for Flash to believe while Peter, his classmate, had been saying it since the end of sophomore year?

"I can't believe this!" And he was off with his rambling.

It was just as well. Peter needed to think, and he couldn't do that while having an ill-timed rapid-fire round with his school bully.

Okay, what did Mr. Stark always say? Chalk out the facts, identify the problem and brainstorm a solution.

Alright. Facts.

They were on their post-decathlon (which they won, in case anyone was interested to know) field trip — this time to Coney Island — when the team had opted to ride the longest roller coaster in the amusement park. Peter had refused for...reasons. It wasn't that he was terrified of heights (please, he was Spiderman), he was merely wary about the safety aspect.

Regardless, Peter had expected to be alone for the duration of the ride. Mr. Harrington had offered but he could see his teacher was pumped about the Cyclone, which was the name of the death trap, by the way. He would never have pegged Roger Harrington as a roller coaster kind of guy but to each their own, he supposed. In the end, Flash had generously given up a seat on the ride to "keep Peter company". Mr Harrington hadn't needed to be told twice.

Was it irresponsible of him to leave two kids alone while going off on a ride? At the time, it hadn't seemed all that dangerous.

He'd been wrong. That was precisely when a sack had been put over their head. His Peter-tingle had tingled, of course — God, May was rubbing off on him — but there was nothing he could have done without arousing suspicion.

And that brought them to his current situation.

Spiderman, snatched in broad daylight by a couple of small-time villains. His secret identity was a boon in times such as these, though it was hella stressful to maintain it.

Step two, identify the problem: He'd been kidnapped, he had a civilian to protect, and they needed to escape. How would he do that in a way that wouldn't instantly tip Flash off to his secret identity? As it was, some days, he felt as if Flash was a Spiderman stalker with how fluent and knowledgeable he was in Spiderman's activities.

Step three: solution. He had no clue how to approach this.

"Is that a StarkWatch-438?"

The non-sequitur grabbed his attention before he could carefully evade it. "What?"

"Your wristwatch! Is it a 438? How do you even have it? It launched less than a week ago and has a two-month wait period!"

How the heck did Flash even see his watch? His hands were tied behind him. "Does it matter right now?"

"Yeah, you're right," the boy muttered. Huh. Peter was going to mark this day in his calendar. "Use it."

"What?"

"Use it!"

Peter stared at him. Flash stared back. After a minute or two, the other boy made a noise of realisation. "You don't know how to use it, do you?"

"To read a watch? Yes, Flash, I do know how to read a watch."

"Not how to read it, dummy!" Flash snapped, but his voice contained much less venom than usual. "The panic button. Press the panic button."

Ah! Right, the panic button. Peter cleared his throat, but any and every reply suffered a premature death on his tongue. What would he say, in any case? He was aware of the panic button. He'd inspired it after one too many instances of fainting in a dark alleyway due to untreated stab wounds.

But he wouldn't use it. He couldn't. It would be embarrassing to have Iron Man come to Spiderman's rescue, even if nobody knew about the Spiderman bit.

"The signal would go to May, Flash! How do you think my Aunt would help this situation?" There, that ought to be a good excuse.

"She could alert the police?"

"Mr. Harrington would've already done that, I'm sure. Look, I have this under control, okay?" Or he would as soon as he figured out a way to get rid of the ropes confining his hands and escape with Flash without resorting to his Spidey strength.

Unfortunately — or fortunately, as Flash would later argue — the decision was made for him in the form of a red-and-gold blur crashing through the glass panes of the semi-constructed building they had been kept hostage in.

Flash squeaked, and Iron Man's head cocked as if regarding a particularly interesting creature. No, he wasn't looking at Flash.

"Peter Parker." The mechanical voice of the suit typically rendered all voice modulation flat, but this time, the unimpressed note eluded its filtering. See, this was how one made themselves a domineering and fearsome figure. Not with crooked teeth and too wide a smirk.

"I was about to call you—"

"It has been two hours and you still haven't pressed the panic button on the watch that you are wearing."

He was so grounded.

He hoped to hell and back that Mr. Stark wasn't actually in the suit. He'd do anything, God, please, just not a lecture in front of Flash. He'd never let him live it down.

The suit — because he was going to assume, for his sanity, that this was the suit and Mr Stark was commandeering it from within his lab miles away for a quick Underoos rescue before he had to get back to some or the other meeting and wouldn't have the opportunity to chew him out with an audience in attendance — made to approach Peter when he shook his head and nodded towards Flash. "Help him first."

A sigh. FRIDAY was messing with him, wasn't she? Both father and daughter had an equally snarky sense of humour.

Flash's ropes were off within twenty seconds. Peter's in less than that. Was Mr Stark aware of Flash bullying him?

This was a disaster in the making, wasn't it?

It only escalated from there when Daniel Brooke and his two loyal henchmen burst into the room, Brooke emphasising his insanity with a crazed "Hah!"

"I knew it!" The man crowed. "I knew you wouldn't leave your precious intern alone! I'd thought you'd concede to the ransom demand but this is even better!"

Iron Man tilted his head to the side again. "Who are you?" And this time, his voice was very, very flat.

"Daniel Brooke. You took everything from me! Now, I'm gonna take everything from you!"

"Hey, man, this wasn't the deal!" Goon-number-one objected.

"Silence, you imbeciles!" Brooke hissed. "And did I give the guns to you for show? Point them at the two boys, fools!"

The men exchanged a silent look and crossed their arms in a creepy synchrony. "We want our money. We don't care about your revenge." Oh, would you look at that? Not so loyal as Peter had initially thought.

"Ugh! I have to do everything around here!" This was a comedy show. "Stark, you listen to me, you ruined my business—"

"I don't even know who you are!" Iron Man's protest was more of a tired whine. The only thing missing was him stomping his foot like a child who'd just been denied living on ice cream.

"I am Daniel Brooke. Weren't you listening?" No, he wasn't, Peter was nearly eighty-four per cent sure. Mr. Stark was great at tuning unnecessary chatter out. And to him, almost everything anyone said qualified to be unnecessary chatter. Unless it was about science. Then you'd have his full attention. For a few minutes, at least. He got easily bored. "I used to supply sandwiches to HYDRA—"

"To HYDRA," Iron Man deadpanned.

"Yes, and you destroyed the base, and I lost all my income. My wife left me."

"That might be the beer stench," Goon-number-one muttered under his breath.

Peter snorted.

He was ignored.

Brooke was still prattling on. Peter settled in for a lengthy villainous monologue when Iron Man's repulsors went up and blasted the man in the face.

He went down like the Chitauri after Mr. Stark had destroyed their motherboard.

Probably not his best analogy.

The two goons immediately put their hands up in surrender, horror painted across their faces.

Iron Man, in response, simply tucked Peter and Flash under either arm and lobbed himself in the air, away from the building and towards home.

🩷

They dropped Flash on the street in front of his home first.

It was Mr. Stark inside the suit.

He got an extremely lengthy lecture.

And he was grounded.

At least, he didn't have to control himself from hurling his guts up due to the fling-a-fling of the roller coaster. His Spiderman identity also managed to remain safe.

Another day, another identity save.

All in a good day's work.

God, this was getting exhausting.

#peter parker #kidnapped peter parker #tony stark #protective tony stark #cross posted on ao3 #irondad and spiderson #attempted humour #tony stark acting as peter parker's parental figure #tony stark is good with kids #tony stark is not happy

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webuniseo · 9 months

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Finding Your Perfect Look: Unveiling the Best Natural Hair Wigs in Bangalore

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#Best natural hair wigs in bangalore #best hair wigs near me #natural hair wigs near me

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swissboyhisch · 1 year

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Support My Girl

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Moyle!Reader

Summary: The final dance concert comes around and you're lucky to have such a supportive family

Word Count: 2304

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

A/N: I love this and ended up getting carried away

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Tonight was the student dance showcase for your college. It’s a concert put on by the students for friends, family and faculty. At 7 tonight, the curtains rise in the theatre on campus. You had already had the matinee show earlier this morning and it went smoothly. No wig, makeup or costume malfunctions thankfully.

As the top student in the dance course, you had the most dances during the concert out of all the students. With 2 dances per class you take as per the course requirements, you were already up to 12 dances. Some classes then do whole class dances. Add in the fact, selected students get solos, duos or trios if the professors so choose.

Before the show, there was a cocktail hour in the lobby. It was mandatory for the dancers to attend. Every year, scouts attend the cocktail hour and night performance in hopes of finding dancers to add to their tally. A few of the previous year’s seniors are now on broadway. You didn’t know what you were hoping for.

You were lucky, your boyfriend has finished his season and was back in Michigan for the show. But not only was he in the crowd tonight, but so is his family. Jack had also finished his season and came back for the summer.

“Are you ready?” You heard his voice echo through your apartment.

One final look in the mirror to smooth out your dress and you were out of there. It was your favourite formal dress. Instead of messing around with your hair for every dance, you had a few wigs throughout the night. For now, you were wearing a short black hair look. Your stage makeup was a smokey look. The dress you chose was picked with the thought of the makeup in mind.

You made sure to grab everything before exiting your room. The only thing with you was your makeup case for touch ups throughout the show, your phone, charger and your wallet. All your costumes, shoes and accessories were still at the theatre after the morning show. It was easier that way.

Quinn looked up from his phone as you walked into the lounge room. He was dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a button down with a tie that matched the colour of your dress. His hair neatly tussled in his beautiful natural way. His eyes wandered down your figure, taking in your appearance. “I like you with short hair.”

“So you want me to start wearing wigs more often?” You laugh.

“No, I like your hair how it is naturally.”

The pair of you made your way to the car where Quinn would drive you over to campus. As the passenger, you got to control the music. What was better than listening to Blink-182 to hype you up. You arrived a little earlier than the cocktail hour so you could put your stuff at your mirror. After years of dancing, you had a particular way of setting up your makeup. Quinn waited while you ducked into the green rooms. The last thing to do was to make sure everything was in place just how you like it. So none of your quick changes would be impaired due to a misplaced accessory. After you had done that, you and Quinn meandered your way to the lobby of the theatre where they had a bar during events. Both of you ordered a soda while you waited for the others to arrive. Of course the first to arrive from the family was Luke, just finishing his freshman at UMich. But in tow behind the tallest Hughes, was the majority of his teammates. Including some of your classmates. Oh and can’t forget your older brother.

“Ayyyy,” Nolan grinned as the group neared. He held out his fist for you to fist bump. Something the pair of you have been doing since you were kids. Nolan was first to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are going to kick ass tonight.”

Luke nodded in agreement as he came to wrap his arms around you after Nolan was finished. The freshman was already a foot taller than you. It made you laugh at the boys’ comments. “It’s not a competition guys.”

Quinn rolled his eyes at the two of you. “It’s a showcase, not a competition.”

“You’ll kill it,” Luke smiles down at you.

Being Quinn’s girlfriend since freshman year, you had promised their mum to look after Luke when he finally got to UMich. And look after him you did. You were pretty sure you cooked at least three times a week for Luke, Nolan and at least two of their teammates. In return, the boys were alway looking after you. And their way of doing that was making sure everyone knew you were UMich team’s captain’s sister and dating THE Quinn Hughes. Star defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks.

“And the best Hughes is here,” A voice interrupted.

You looked past Quinn where Jack was approaching with Ellen and Jim, the boys’ parents. “Yeah of course they are, Mama El is here.”

Jack pouted as everyone went around for hugs. Ellen made sure to squeeze you affectionately, whispering about how proud she is to be here for something other than hockey. It’s the first time she and Jim had been on campus since the Frozen Four Championship. The group huddles around a couple of barrels placed around the foyer to act as tables.

“Miss Moyle,” Your theatre professor greets. “I have someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

Quinn stayed beside you as your professor guided you to where another one of your professors and a couple of well dressed people were chatting to them. After introductions, and the scouts getting past their awe, they talked about their companies and businesses. Luckily for the pair of you, one of your fellow dancers pulled you away to head backstage. With final goodbyes, and many good luck wishes, you and Claire went backstage.

You stripped off your dress and hung that up. First dance concert was “A Little Party Never Killed Nobody’ and the troupe consisted of the top 21 students of the course. Your costume was a sparkly flapper dress. Once you made sure everything was perfect, feather and all, Claire, Maddie and yourself made your way to the stage.

The large curtain was down blocking the stage from the view of the audience. Dancers were chatting between each other as they stretched and warmed up their bodies. Yourself and the girls found a free spot and started doing your own thing. You made sure to stretch your legs and back.

“Guys,” one of the student photographers that’s hanging around called to the Opening troupe. “Can I get a picture please?!”

As a group, you all decide on doing the final poses of the dance for the picture. You were the point of the triangle and on the ground with Maddie and Claire behind you. After a hot minute you all relaxed and went back to stretching. The 5-minute warning was called and the lights behind the curtain dimmed.

You moved into my starting position which was at the front with Claire. Both of you mirrored each other for the starting count. Julia, one of the performing arts students, stepped on stage to start off the night. Julia was a senior student who volunteered for the position of MC for the two shows. The lights dim backstage, and everyone gets in position as we hear Julia’s heels in front of the curtain.

“Good morning all, and welcome to the annual dance concert held by the Arts Students of the University of Michigan,” Julia welcomes. “The amazing show you will witness today is by the students. The dancers are the senior students of the dance department. Costumes, accessories and props were hand made by Fashion and Theatre Departments. Lighting, sound and tech are all done by the senior students of the Theatre and Production departments.”

The audience clapped and cheered.

“Before we start, please ensure mobile devices are turned off during the performance.”

There was a moment of silence for people to follow Julia’s words.

Julia hums appreciatively. “Thank you. Now onto the main event. You will see 8 different styles of dance displayed today. Acrobatics, Ballet, Contemporary, Hip Hop, Jazz, Slow Modern, Tap and Theatre all included. To kick off a killer show are the top 21 students of the dance department. They come from a range of styles. Please welcome to the stage opening with ‘A Little Party Never Killed Nobody’.”

With those words, it becomes pitch black behind the curtain as the group eagerly awaits Julia to step off stage and for the curtain to rise. Everyone was as still as a statue when the curtain began to lift. The music started and lights started dancing around the stage as you started dancing. Every student loved dance so the passion showed within their moves.

The curtain closed for the last time of the night and all of you laid on the floor. Every single one of the students were exhausted after the last week of late night rehearsals. One by one each got up and went to their green rooms to start the process of cleaning up. First, you changed into a cute playsuit you had stashed for this very moment. You then shoved all your makeup into the bag and all your shoes into your dance bag you had brought earlier. Not bothering to sort them out. All of your costumes were put back into the garment bags they came in originally with the accessories all sorted into the correct bags. With your bag over your shoulder, you piled the costumes over your arm.

“Need help?” Ellen offers from the door.

“Yes please,” you sigh. You hand her the majority of the costumes. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Ellen led the way out of backstage and through the crowd of family and friends waiting for all the dancers. The first person you spy was Quinn standing with a large bouquet of your favourite flowers. Luke grabbed the rest of your costumes and dance bag.

“You were absolutely amazing,” Quinn compliments, pulling you in for a kiss. After you pull away, he hands you the bouquet and turns you to where you finally see Nolan standing with your mother.

“Oh!” You grin at the sight of your family. She embraces you, careful of the flowers in your arm. “I’ve missed you.”

“Beautiful,” Your mum smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for coming,” You mumble to her.

She waves off your words. “I’ll always come to your dance concerts. Can we get photos?”

Quinn and yourself agree with your mum and Ellen’s request and pose with the bouquet. Then it rotates out. Jack and Luke pop in at one point. You and Nolan get photos together for your mum. Yourself and all the Hughes family. You know how parents are. Oh and can’t forget one with you and all the team that had come to support you.

You and Quinn head to his car with everything in split between the pair of you. After the boot was filled with all of your gear, the car door was opened for you, allowing you to slide in and finally relax. Your body ached and needed to have a shower before you finally could go to bed.

You don’t even remember falling asleep in the car though. Next thing you know Quinn is shaking you awake telling you you were home. Neither of you bothered with all your stuff in the back. It was easy enough to pull out all the costumes tomorrow. You were too tired. With your wallet and phone in hand, Quinn and yourself head straight to your bathroom to shower. Like the amazing boyfriend he was, Quinn helped you undress and take out all the pins that were left in your hair.

“Are you sure you wanted to shower? I can draw a bath for you if you really want.”

You just shake your head in response to Quinn’s offer. Without saying a word, he got the shower ready for you two and even dimmed the lights. Like earlier in the day, you help each other wash. Shower time was one of both of yours’ favourites. It was a moment to yourselves without interruption.

After the shower, you went to slip one of Quinn’s old UMich shirts over your body when his hands stopped you. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement. He was naked as well as he lifted you up and slid you right under the covers.

“I just wanna be close,” Quinn mumbles as he climbs in beside you.

Quinn’s arms wrap around your body and drag you to lay half on top of him. You barely had the energy to move your arms at this point. You could feel the calloused fingers stroking up and down your back. He then brushed his finger through your hair every now and then as well.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” You whisper into the darkness, turning your head to press a kiss to Quinn’s jawline.

He chuckles, “Of course I was going to support my girl as she showed everyone how amazing of a dancer she is.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you try to snuggle further into Quinn. At this point, if you got any closer, you’d be one person. For the first time in two months, you think you could finally fully relax without anything but Quinn on your mind. Quinn’s hand massaging your sore muscles felt like heaven. It was also making you sleepy.

“Just go to sleep baby girl,” He mumbled, pressing multiple kisses to your face.

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

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plaindangan · 1 month

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Junko can actually do a near perfect Mukuro disguise but won’t for 2 reasons.

1.She hates her natural hair color(cause ain’t no way that blonde isn’t a dye)

2.She has to wear a bra that pushes down her bodacious bust!

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

"Also, three."

"Having to act as that hopelessly incompetent, ridiculously average looking, utter trainwreck of sister is so damn despair inducing it's not even funny...I mean, just look at what I have to work with."

"Basic ass shirt, basic ass skirt, basic ass tie even!!! Basic, basic, basic, basic, basic!!!! If that blue-haired dweeb ever wanted to look even more generic, she'd take notes on Mukuro!!! God, can you see why we don't do the switcharoo the opposite way now? It'll just be too much of a downgrade for me!!!!!"

...

"Hence, why you'll be getting a half-assed version instead~" Case in point, when you looked back to Junko you would see in said outfit...accept clearly not wearing a binder - which mean you'd get to see her fat tits straining Mukuro's clearly smaller shirt (which wasn't helped by Junko rolling up the helm of her skirt into a knot to expose her belly) - and wearing an even shorter camo-based skirt than had half of her cheeks out. Hair wise, while she didn't cut it or dye it, she she was now wearing a black wig that reached down towards half her back and had a camo army hat keeping it in place. On her feet was a pair of matching army boots, too.

"At ease, filthy civilian! I'm , Mukuro Ikusaba the Ultimate Soldier. No worries: unless I get the change for it, your throats are totally safe!! Pfff, yeah, right!! Just joshing! You guys wouldn't even cut it as target practice~ Hah! Another joke, don't take it personal~" she said, sounding more like a rough, personal, jock than Mukuro's usual socially awkward or cold tone. She smirked at you, even bending over a little to flash more of her jiggly tits.

"Seeeeee?~ Admit it. You would CRAVE a Mukuro like that in some other universe, riiiight?~ Doesn't that make you despair over what we have now? Hm? Hm? Hmmmmmmmmm?~" Switching back to her usual clothes, Junko snickered.

"Oh well~ Guess we'll just have to settle for the classic beauty and plain combo, cause what I did there was a one-time thing!! Hoped it didn't get your pants wet for more! Puhuhuhuhuhuhu~" Devious girl, wasn't she?

#DRenoshima-R18 #DRikusaba-R18

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phagechildon · 7 months

Text

Randomly thought of this while showering.

A modern Wangxian au where someone framed Wei Ying, making it look like he was responsible for a big fire(explosion) at a Christmas Party that all major companies were invited to. Yanli was severely injured, but okay.

Since then, Wei Ying hid in the shadows, trying to find who or what organization was behind it. Everyone assumed he ran away, not wanting to face punishment.

Years later, Lan Zhan, an on-duty (undercover) officer tracked a suspicious person to a museum. Just as chaos breaks out, someone slams into him, knocking them both down. It's a woman with ankle-length auburn hair and a face full of makeup. Her eyes are honey-comb in color, but her expression is full of shock.

She looks familiar.

Heart-achingly familiar.

Instead of chasing after the suspect (at this point the fire alarm is going off, proof that someone set it off to escape as water is spraying from the sprinklers), he instead chases after this woman who's now running away from him. She kicks her heels off, even so, Lan Zhan should've been able to catch her. There's only been one person he hadn't been able to catch.

Finally he catches the woman, mainly because her feet are now bleeding from the streets. He pins her to the wall, makeup half washed off from the sprinklers, wet hair sliding off, revealing a wig.

They're both out of breath, exhausted, yet Lan Zhan pulls the wig off, seeing long dark brown hair in a flattened bun.

"Lan Zhan, who knew you'd turn out to be so pervy?"

That voice - his entire soul froze in disbelief.

Wei Ying. This was without a doubt Wei Ying, the one he had fallen in love with, the one who had falsely been blamed, the one who went missing eight years back. His cheeks were sunken in, an obvious sign of lack of nutrition.

And his voice, so recognizable, yet so much softer and lighter than before.

"Wei-" Said man pressed a finger to his lips, glancing nervously around them.

"They're probably listening. Would a strong, strapping man like you escort this feeble maiden home?" Lan Zhan rose an eyebrow in disbelief, only making Wei Ying smirk more. "It's the least you can do for making me lose my shoes!"

.... there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to comment on, but Wei Wuxian was very intelligent. If he said someone might be listening, he was probably right.

"Apologies. I mistook you for someone else." Not a lie. He didn't know who this was when he gave chase.

Without hesitation he swept Wei Ying into his arms, carrying him bridal style. A deep (adorable) red stained those pale cheeks as those eyes fluttered in disbelief, revealing a little bit of his natural silver eyes now that his contacts were slightly askew.

"A-ah, you don't have to carry me! Put me down!"

"No," he simply said, tightening his grip when he felt the other squirm. "I am doing as you asked. I'm escorting the feeble maiden who shouldn't be on her feet."

Lan Zhan follows Wei Ying's instructions, driving him to a shady looking bar that's three stories high. Normally he would assume his friend just wanted to drink, but this felt different.

They enter through the back, the kitchen staff looking up at them in shock. Wei Ying let his hair loose, waving to everyone and - was he using sign language?!

The employees sign back, looking both worried and relieved.

Eventually Wei Ying whispered "there's stairs to the left," and he carried him up to what looked like a large living room. Someone was playing a piano, a walking stick propped up against the wall near him, and a child slept peacefully on the couch. Wei Ying motioned for him to go up the next set of stairs, leading him to a small den that had been transformed into a room.

"When did you learn sign language?"

"Ahahaha, well, there's a lot you don't know about me, Lan Zhan." And it was true. All around the room were Styrofoam heads sporting different kinds of wigs, both male and female. Dozens of non-prescription contacts boxes were tossed all over. Clothes were thrown haphazardly in one of the corners, forcing them both to sit on the bed. This obviously wasn't Wei Ying's first time wearing a disguise.

"I saw a suspicious person go through an employees only door the day of the party, and instead of saying something, I ran after them. They noticed and ran, which made me give chase. He ran by the kitchen and hit a switch, and everything went black"

"Why didn't you tell that to the police?"

Wei Ying blinked up at him with a sad smile. "You think I didn't?" Lan Zhan didn't understand. The responding officers were good friends of theirs, people who have been friends with their family since they were little. They knew Wei Ying. Might not have been fond of him, but knew he would never do such a thing. Yet Wei Ying wouldn't lie about this either.

"They nearly killed me, Lan Zhan. They hunted me down, even used their damned hell hounds. They wanted me dead so they could pin the whole blame on me without further investigation. That's when I met them, my new family."

Wen Qing and Wen Ning were out shopping when someone tried to rob a now blind Wen Ning. Unable to stand by, Wei Ying swooped in and stopped them. After that, they kept running into each other. Eventually he learned the Wens had been at the same Christmas Party and Wen Ning had suffered a nasty head injury, resulting in blindness. Hearing he was searching for the one responsible, they teamed up.

From there, they gathered their savings and bought this rundown building, turning it into a bar. It brought them business and income without the attention. They also got to chose their hours. Most of then Wens who stayed with them had disabilities such as being mute, blind, or deaf.

"It's... been a long time since I've had a long conversation like this." Wen Qing was fine, however she was hardly home, always taking shifts at the hospital to give them a steady income when the bar was slow.

Lan Zhan, against Wei Ying's protests, helps clean and wrap his feet, agreeing to work together to find the one responsible and clear his name.

"He knows I'm on his trail. He's planning something, something big. We can't let him succeed this time."

And so Lan Zhan escorts a beautiful woman around town, one who's mute (which is so ironic since Lan Zhan couldn't get him to shut up when they were growing up), and when Wei Ying feels mischievous, he arrives at meet up locations in a different wig and a completely different kind of outfit, giggling as people start spreading rumors that Lan Zhan has turned into a player.

That's all I have so far XD Hope you guys like it! Just a shower idea

#wangxian #mdzs #phage writes

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haircarecetres-blog · 2 years

Link

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