#stage kiss

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi, can you maybe talk more about "stage kissing" vs "real kissing"? How do stage kisses work and how exactly are they different from real ones? Thanks!

Hey! :)

I talked about the difference here:

You can definitely see it in the Loustat

vs Lesmand kiss, too, imho.

And in the Loumand kiss too, though it's hard to see bc it's so dark (but you can still see the angle if you look closely).

This is NOT to take away from these kisses!!!

It's just that... Sam and Jacob obviously go full in for Loustat. (And I... errrrr.... appreciate that immensely^^)

[zukosdualdao]

stage kiss

zutara month, day 8: actors au, @zutaramonth

summary: katara just needs to earn enough to make passage to the northern water tribe, so she begins working as a seamstress for an acting troupe in ba sing se. fine enough work in theory, until the leading actress is out sick and katara is asked to step into the role.

other notes: au in which the avatar never returns, and the war is still going on. katara is 16 and just left home, zuko is 18 and let go of his search for the avatar two years ago.

Katara doesn’t believe this is happening.

Well, alright, she mostly does, but. Come on.

All she’d wanted when she came here was to find work that let her earn enough to book passage to the Northern Water Tribe. She had known it would be difficult—her own tribe hadn’t had contact with them in many years, for much longer than she’d been alive—but she hadn’t expected there would be no official transport there when she got to Ba Sing Se. 

It had quickly become apparent that her options were to either book passage through a sketchy crowd of characters—sketchy mainly in that she didn’t like the way they looked her up and down, so she’d have to decide which ones she ‘trusted’ the most—or to… purchase a ship herself. And get a crew. And probably learn how to steer it.

She’s still figuring it out.

In any case, she had to earn one way or another, so she was relieved to find the acting troupe when she did, as the director seemed eager for a seamstress right away. Apparently, the last one had quit with barely a word.

Guiltily, Katara does not mention her plans to leave as soon as she has enough money to make passage.

It goes well for several weeks. A lot of the troupe is friendly, if a bit rowdy for her tastes—one earthbending boy has broken so many props she doesn’t know how he hasn’t been fired for it yet—but she’s met some really wonderful people too. Some of the girls her age have taken to talking to her about things like boys and far-off places they’d like to see and makeup and fights with their families, and it makes Katara feel a little choked up. She’d had Gran Gran, of course, and Sokka, and all the little kids she adored and the elders she respected, but she’d never really had someone who was a friend her own age.

The one person she hasn’t made much headway with is a boy a tall boy with dark hair and a scar that clearly came from a burn over his left eye. She’d come to understand quickly that most of the war refugees were blocked off in the lower ring, and they’re in a sort of in-between state, where artisans and food stallers live—it all makes her feel sick to her stomach if she thought about it too hard—but she can’t help but wonder if that’s how he got it. 

Zuko, the girls tell Katara his name is. He’s quiet and snappish and glares a lot, only seeming to come alive, to become softer, in those moments on stage when he’s being someone else.

Katara finds herself a little fascinated, despite herself, but it’s nothing to pay any mind to. In the weeks ahead, she’s just got to focus on her work.

It goes well. Until it doesn’t.

“Xiu Bao has fallen ill,” the director says as he implores Katara to take the lead’s place. “We would be ever-indebted to you.”

“But I’m not an actress!” Katara exclaims, feeling her heartbeat grow ever faster.

All she’d wanted was to learn waterbending. Now, she’s being asked to join an acting troupe. Temporarily. But still.

“It’s no matter,” he says. “You’ve seen the play many times over by now—and you don’t have to say the lines exactly,” he adds, a bit urgently. It is, after all, only a few hours until the show is meant to begin. “Just… to the best of your memory.”

Katara purses her lips. She’s not an actress, but her storytelling was well-regarded in a way that always made her proud, if a little squirmy—just like your mother, the elders in her village used to say—so maybe that could translate.

“And I’ll be paid?” she asks.

“Of course,” he assures her. “Yes—thank you, Katara,” he adds, turning heel before she can point out that she hasn’t technically agreed yet. 

Probably smart of him.

When she finds herself on stage that evening, made up and in Earth Kingdom robes, she tries to tell herself it’s just like telling a story. Mostly, it works. She remembers the lines surprisingly well.

Something else surprises her, too—the way it barely feels like acting as she stands across from Zuko. His role is still quiet, surly, a romantic lead of few words, but there’s a charm to him, an openness, and she doesn’t know where she possibly draws it from.

It’s near the end of the thing when she remembers with sudden clarity—they’re supposed to kiss here. 

How did she find herself in this situation?

When he strides toward her, placing his hands on her waist, Katara’s breath stutters, and that… that isn't acting.

He looks at her searchingly for a moment—does the scene always take this long?—and when she gives a slight nod of her head, he leans forward. Their lips meet, and it feels like the world around them just… stops. His lips are soft and gentle against her own, and from this close, Katara can tell he smells of firewood and cinnamon. 

When he pulls back, they rest their foreheads together. Katara breathes in shakily. Zuko is supposed to have a line, Katara’s pretty sure, but he's looking at her with a swell of emotion. The director clears his throat from the front row, and it's only then that Zuko remembers this fact as well.

Katara smiles to herself a little as the scene goes on. Maybe acting wouldn't be such a bad way to earn her keep and save for her travels while she stays here in Ba Sing Se.

[justabarbiegirl05]

Rip Angie Martinelli you would of loved kissing girls on stage

[wynnyfryd]

“Trying to steal the spotlight, Harrington?”

“No, baby, I figured we could share it.”

from “Cut It Loose, Watch You Work The Room” by @wormdebut | art by @doomcheese

—

MERRY CHRISTMAS WORMY 😘🎄😘🎄😘 @messessentialist and i know how much you love doom’s art so we commissioned her to draw the kiss scene for you sorry we drooled all over your present lmfao

[raphaerolo]

This file is literally titled "kisskissfallinlove" in my procreate (very accurately) and ngl i got a little carried away with the lighting..

Edit: check out the finished work here

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[khickuwa]

Dear God, won't you look at me? Even for a moment, won't you let me pretend you're mine?

[bbbbbbbbatman]

The real reason none of the batkids want the cowl is bc at some point after they started dating, Bruce decided the best way to keep his and Clark’s cover was to pretend they were in a polyamorous relationship with Superman and Batman, so suddenly the occasions where dick had to wear the batsuit to cover for Bruce became real awkward when they were around other people

[sy5t3merr0r]

Be careful it will consume your mind

[phoenixwwitch]

you know we romanticize bullets and revenge gerard way too much like fuck it- you know what the hottest version of gerard is? fucking right now like:

this is my baby girl,,, my wife even,, LOOK AT THEM LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ARE

[paradiseyuri]

Created by : ☆홍당무☆ Respective credits to the creator ⓟⒶⓇⒶⒹⒾⓈⒺ♡ⓎⓊⓇⒾ

[zephyrins]

I want Luka to believe Till is absolutely broken and depressed but Till casually walks onto the scene and blows everyone up with the most heavy metal song ever

[walleeli]

Ivan is only allowed tenderness when Till isn’t conscious. Every other interaction between them is marked by violence (anything is better than nothing at all.)

[shakingparadigm]

Sua, watching Ivan actually walk up and kiss Till on stage before dying: man what the hell. fuck you.

[kaeya-senpai]

Pov u and ur boyfriend get transported into a post-apocalyptic dystopian game world

EDIT: I accidentally uploaded the wrong Color version of the profiles im sorry 💀

[khickuwa]

the mark you leave behind.