#i’d braid it all pretty in a french braid
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can i please—~🎃
#let me play with his hair#right the fuck now#it looks so soft#i’d braid it all pretty in a french braid#if i knew how to french braid#maybe give it a little pull#just a little tug#it’s fine#everything is fine#i’m all good i promise#frnkiebby#frank iero#mcr#frnkiero#frnkie#mcrmy#mcr5#my chemical romance#my chem#ilhsm
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Penalty Box Series— National Best Friends Day
SERIES MASTERLIST
yourusername
liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and 17,043 others
yourusername dear quintin,
i never had a big brother. i didn’t know what it meant to have any sort of siblings until i met all of you, let only someone who cared enough to protect me and clean up my knees when i fell on the sidewalk. i never knew what it meant to have a real family.
then you came along. well, i guess jack came along, but i knew you were different from jack from the beginning. you’d walk me to class every morning in elementary school until you left and made sure my french braids were straight before i went in. you helped me on all my school projects, you scared away bullies, you gave me your hoodie went you went to middle school so that “you could still walk me to class,” and in fourth grade, you officially became my best friend.
no one else will ever have a best friendship like ours, and i think that’s pretty special. we live over a thousand miles away and we still manage to make each other a priority. to quote kelly clarkson, “my life (my life) would suck (would suck) without you!”
i love you more than words, huggy💙
p.s. i can’t forget to mention how grateful i am for my best friend number two, @/colecaufield! i love you!
p.s.s. i also can’t forget to mention how much love i have for all of my friends. so to jacky boy, turcs, lukey moosey, jamie baby, z-baby, and many more (teammates i’m looking at you) (especially petey because he calls me every week), i love you, i’m grateful for you, and you’re not allowed to leave me until you die <3
p.s.s.s. to all my sons, fatherless or not, you’re all a delight to be around and i love and miss every single one of you!
p.s.s.s.s. dear jack, i’m (not) sorry i traded you in for the better model, but without you, i don’t know where i’d be. thank you for giving me the family i deserve and being my best friend from kindergarten through third grade❤️
tagged _quinnhughes
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_quinnhughes trevor’s right, you can be a sweet girl! i love you so much, sissy💙 don’t worry, i’m contractually obligated to stay your best friend until i die and i intend to keep that promise
yourusername aw you sap!
_quinnhughes there’s my girl, i was getting concerned
jackhughes you’re concerned??? she didn’t tease any one of us in her sappy post
yourusername @/jackhughes stfu toothless i will shove you off the boat when you least expect it
jackhughes there’s my girl
trevorzegras we’re friends???
yourusername i mean i think so
trevorzegras that’s news to me
yourusername you’re lucky i love you
trevorzegras forever?
yourusername always🧡
jackhughes i just threw up so much i started bleeding
yourusername @/jackhughes that sounds like a you problem
trevorzegras um… anyways… i love you, forever🧡
user23 i’m not crying you are
user4 i’m just picturing little quinn petting down fly aways and making sure sissy has both braids over her shoulders and hugging her before class🥹
colecaufield i love best friend number two! can’t wait to see what movie you’ve picked for us this week!
yourusername it’s definitely one we haven’t watched before
colecaufield is it the new jennifer lawrence movie?
yourusername that’s not out til the 23rd!
colecaufield but i’m assuming you’re taking us all to the movie theater?
yourusername my home girl is back from the dead, of course we’re all seeing the new jennifer lawrence movie
colecaufield you don’t know her???
yourusername home. girl.
user91 i will never recover from this
colemcward i love and miss you, too, mom! i’m honored to be your and quinn’s son!
yourusername my favorite child! you should come visit! we got snacks!
colemcward i’ll see what i can do
lhughes_06 @/yourusername you shouldn’t rank your children
yourusername @/lhughes_06 mom ranks us
_quinnhughes @/yourusername no, mom ranks you first and the rest of us are tied for second
yourusername @_quinnhughes that’s what you think
user80 i envision sissy as like the team snack mom to far too many hockey teams
yourusername i do what i can🫡
_alexturcotte forever my favorite smoke buddy! i love you!
yourusername enough to give me back my bong?
_alextucotte not a chance <3
_eliaspettersson i love you, too! i’ll call at three your time
yourusername i’ll be anxiously awaiting your call!
user21 i’m perplexed as to how y/n manages to do little things with about 800 people to keep the friendship alive
jamie.drysdale i love you soooo much, ex wife! you make my life entertaining so please never leave
yourusername i’m with ya til the end of the line
jamie.drysdale is that a comment about my hair?
yourusername sure is ya bucky barnes looking ass
trevorzegras @/yourusername does that make me steve rogers?
yourusername @/trevorzegras you’d like that, wouldn’t you?
edwards.73 i miss you the MOST
yourusername aww i miss you the most! i love you!
edwards.73 i love you, too, mom💛
user2 sissy and quinn >>> jamie and trevor
jackhughes sap alert! (i love you, too, soulmate)
yourusername come cuddle
jackhughes omw
dylanduke25 team mom! team mom! team mom!
yourusername can’t wait to crash the team sleepovers
dylanduke25 wrong! you’re always invited to team sleepovers
lhughes_06 you’re more than my friend, you’re my sissy and i love you❤️
yourusername you made me cry you jerk <3 i love so much, lukey moosey you don’t even know
lhughes_06 i think i’ve got a solid idea
yourusername well it’s wrong
#penalty box series#penalty box series: bonus editions#penalty box series: quinn hughes edition#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#trevor zegras#trevor zegras imagine#trevor zegras x reader#jack hughes#luke hughes#jamie drysdale#cole caufield#alex turcotte#dylan duke#cole mcward#ethan edwards#hockey imagine
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I Left My Heart in San Francisco (John Brady x OC)
Summary: John's heart feels a thousand miles and just as many memories away in Stalag Luft III.
Note: Title comes from the song, of course (you don’t have to listen to it while reading, but I listened to it while writing this). Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: Fluff and angst, mostly introspective. Somewhat non-linear narrative, I guess.
“I won’t get any good if I don’t practice,” John insisted.
Woody smiled, her green eyes sparkling. “Alright, but you watch that pipe of yours. If I smell burning hair—“
He grinned, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “You won’t, sweetheart, I promise.”
Woody braided her hair first thing in the morning, after hastily raking her fingers through it, tugging out any knots that formed overnight. By the heat of the afternoon, enough hair would come loose and stick to her sweaty skin that she’d have to redo her handiwork, already knowing to anticipate the black streaks of grease she’d have to scrub out of it at the end of each day.
Sometimes Holly would be around to give her an intricate and sturdy French braid, able to withstand sweat and hard work. But John had never braided hair before he asked to do hers one evening, and then with increasing frequency as time went on, desperately needing something to lose himself in.
She sat between his legs, still and patient as he ran his fingers through her wavy hair. He parted it in two sections, letting the waterfall of blonde flow down one of her shoulders while he gathered the rest of her hair, silken to the touch compared to the standard blankets and bedsheets they were issued.
A shiver ran down her spine when his fingers gently brushed the nape of her neck.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“You’re fine, honey.” Her voice was soft, almost a low purr that echoed in his ears. He couldn’t remember another time when she called him honey. Usually just Johnny, which sounded wrong coming from other people, even jokingly, since it became hers, but he wasn’t sure how to tell her he liked honey too.
He carefully layered one thick strand of hair over the other until he finished a braid on one side. Looked good, but he knew at a glance he could do better. Woody braided her hair for utility, not just to look pretty, which was a bonus in his opinion, but not her priority.
He puffed on his pipe, shaking his head before setting it aside. “They’re not even. I’m gonna try again.”
“Go ahead, Johnny.”
John stroked her hair, thinking about how he wished they had met under different—better circumstances, where she wasn’t under constant threat of losing him. He used to figure that there was a proper way to get to a woman’s heart, the way god intended, or so he’d been told: meet a nice young lady, ask her father for permission to take her out on a date, get to know each other, bring her home on time. Rinse and repeat while trying not to get too handsy before getting a ring involved.
Then the war happened.
Then Woody happened, who probably wouldn’t have described herself as a nice young lady in the first place. No father to ask permission to take her out on a date. He wasn’t quite sure they actually saved anything for marriage (besides the having kids part, thankfully). He figured god would be flexible, all things considered.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“There’s a knot,” he mumbled, brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully pulled at strands of hair to free them from each other.
“When I was a kid, if I had a really bad knot I couldn’t get out myself, I’d just cut it with some kitchen scissors. My hair probably looked awful.”
He almost instinctively asked why she didn’t ask her mom to brush it out, but felt the slightest bit of rage burn in his chest when he caught himself and remembered. “I care enough about you to do this right.”
“You’re also pretty good with your hands.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I know so,” she said, “and thank you for always being attentive.”
“Are we still talking about your hair?”
“Oh, of course.”
He snickered, working on braiding her hair again. “Of course.”
Neither of them spoke of the future very much, but he knew he wanted one with her. Just wasn’t sure how to go about the discussion without scaring her off, if she’d even be open to settling down. Settling. The word weighed heavy in his mind. While Woody claimed no nostalgia for her native city, a sad fondness laced her voice when she spoke of it, of the excitement and freedom San Francisco had offered her when she needed those things most. Sometimes John wondered if Ithaca would be enough, if he would be enough when all was said and done.
He swallowed roughly. “Take a look and tell me what you think. Be as brutally honest as you need to be. I can take it.”
Woody half-turned to him, an amused smile spreading across her face. Made him feel like he was being let in on a secret the way her smile sometimes did. “You could make my hair look like a bird’s nest and I wouldn’t tell you.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before getting up. He followed, almost nervous as she inspected her appearance in the small mirror sitting nearby. She beamed at her reflection, turning excitedly to him. “Johnny, it’s perfect.”
She stood on her toes to kiss him, deep and real, the kind that made any lingering doubts dissolve. Her lips were soft, as if she put on lip balm before he got there. Everything about her was soft, except for her hands, always rough and calloused, but something would be wrong if he felt a smooth palm cradling his jaw, or gliding across the expanse of his shoulders, down his back to cling to him. But he was clothed. Or he thought he was. Lost himself for a moment before he found the sound of her voice again.
“Before I forget—” She slipped her hand into one of her pockets. “Here, I want you to have this. I don’t really have any other photos of me, but I wrote a little note on the back of it for you,” she said. Her cheeks flushed, eyes flicking away from him for a moment. “Just so, um, you know it’s yours.”
He smiled at being handed the photo, a little shadowy and out of focus, but her nevertheless. To Johnny, all my love and more, your sweetheart, Woody. She had drawn a little heart next to his name, Xs and Os after hers. “You look beautiful. Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of his nose brushing against her skin. “I’ll keep it with me.”
And he did. All the way to Stalag Luft III. Looked at the photo and tried to remember the feeling of her hair between his fingers.
He nearly tore Hambone a new one for taking the photo from his hands without asking, not that he would have let him touch it in the first place even if he had. While far from salacious, having other eyes besides his own on Woody’s photo felt almost sacrilegious. After all, he kept it in the same pocket as the St. Christopher card his mother had given him before he left for basic, its laminated corners curled from his incessant toying with it for reassurance. He hardly looked at it since they bailed. Patron saint of travelers. Some good St. Chris did him.
Buck stepped in and got John his photo back before the situation could escalate further. But the cat was out of the bag. As if it even mattered then, anyway. He did take some pride in everyone’s shock at him and Woody managing to keep their relationship under wraps for nearly four months.
He didn’t expect it to come up again, but he wasn’t exactly expecting Bucky to be alive either. In the midst of Bucky's bittersweet reunion with the other members of the 100th who’d been taken prisoner by the Germans, it was mentioned among the updates everyone was clamoring to give him after he relayed what he could muster of how he survived and ended up there.
Hardly relevant, but Bucky fixated on it after John let one small detail slip out.
“You and Woody? How the hell did I not know this?” Bucky asked.
“No one knew, except for Holly,” he said.
“Holly knew?”
“It wasn’t my idea, but Woody tells her everything. Told her about us the night you two made the bet on that baseball game.”
“That was back in June!" Bucky exclaimed, a strange combination of disbelief and slight betrayal that felt almost out of place compared to everything else going on. "She’s known for four months and didn't tell me?”
“Woody swore her to secrecy or something.”
Bucky shook his head. “You sly dog. Under everyone’s noses…” Clapped him proudly on the shoulder. “Good on you, buddy.”
John smiled. “Thanks, Bucky.”
“Don’t expect any details,” Murph mumbled.
“I’m not telling any of you about my sex life.”
“But there was one?” Bucky asked.
He sighed, resisting the urge to glare at his friend, who up until a few hours prior, he wasn’t even sure was still alive. “We didn’t sneak around for four months just to hold hands.”
Even if that was all they’d done, his relationship with Woody wouldn’t have been any less important to him. Still, it was nice to have actual experiences to pull from, build fantasies that could get him through some of the lonelier nights when he wished he were with her, just about anywhere in the world but Stalag Luft III. The four months that were all theirs became his lifeline.
Four months. Maybe that was long enough for him to ask her to marry him. After writing to his family, that’d be his first order of business. Woody already had his heart, so he’d promise her everything else on top of that he could think of. Let her point anywhere on a map and take her there on a month-long honeymoon. Move all the way out to San Francisco with her. If she said ‘no’ or sent the letter back unopened, at least he could say he tried.
He laid back on his bunk that night, doing his best to ignore the shouting outside. Like the night guards did it on purpose to keep them exhausted. Closed his eyes. Kept her photo pressed against his chest. Tried to remember what her hair felt like between his fingers. Silk compared to the threadbare blankets the Germans gave them for the rapidly approaching winter.
“I won’t get any good if I don’t practice,” he insisted.
She smiled, her green eyes sparkling. “Alright, but you watch that pipe of yours. If I smell burning hair—“
He grinned, taking his pipe out of his mouth. “You won’t, sweetheart, I promise.”
#john brady x oc#john brady#masters of the air x oc#masters of the air#mota x oc#mota#mota fanfic#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#hbo war x oc#ch: woody
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ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ
Ｄａｙ ７ － Ｓｔａｒ Ｇａｚｉｎｇ
－ Midnight Rendezvous - 42!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse
－ In which no one in life understands you, except the boy in the flat across the hall who you sneak out onto the rooftops with every Sunday night.
－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!
“Rough day, huh?” Those three words are how your usual hangouts started. The night air is a bit chilly, complementary of the early spring weather that comes with February. It’s refreshing at least, compared to the week the both of you have had.
“Don’t even get me started,” you drone, pulling the hoodie sleeves over her fingers to keep them from growing cold. The sweater is actually Miles’, one he’d let you borrow on a much colder midnight rendezvous, and you had yet to return.
He sits criss-cross next to you, the ends of his twin french braids moving as he does so. The fluorescent lighting from the streetlights paint his face in a pretty glow, the sounds of police sirens are distant and remind you of the kind of world you live in. Despite it all, however, these little trips to the rooftop with Miles on Sunday evenings give you a sense of serenity.
“Can’t have been worse than mine.” he comments.
“Well,” you say in an exhale, “the entire school is pink and red now for Valentines Day.”
“Shit- I forgot about that,” You go to the same school, so he knows exactly what you're referencing, and he snickers in distaste, wiping down the length of his face, “I’m not looking forward to that tomorrow.”
“Be lucky you didn’t have to help decorate it,” you say, “though I can say confidently that you should expect a lot of secret admirer letters in your locker.”
A little laugh leaves your lips as you watch Miles sink into his seat, hands covering the back of his head as he cowers and pouts; he didn’t want to be reminded of his popularity status amongst the girls at Visions Academy, but you couldn’t not pass up the opportunity to mess with him a little bit.
“I think I might just die, thanks.” he murmurs in defeat. You rest your hand on his back, running soothing circles in between his shoulder blades.
“Don’t get all shy now, playa,” you tease, “you knew it was coming. Now it’s time to face the music!”
“I’d rather face my mom with a slipper on a bad day from the hospital.”
You playfully push the other to the side, laughter filling the air from both of you, because you knew there to be some truth in his statement. You were sure that he would take every loophole possible to avoid the girls he knew had a massive crush on him, and that he’d much prefer his mothers’ snappy attitude than the bombardment of his classmates with heart shaped eyes. “You play too much.”
After he recovers from your playful assault on him, he sees that you’ve turned your attention to the sky above the two of you. “The stars are out tonight.”
There isn’t much to see in a city heavy with light pollution, but the stars are there. Little specks of twinkling lights hung high in the sky to be admired by all; Miles sees why you like them. Its as easy to get lost in the deep blue sky as it is to get lost in you, which he finds himself doing more frequently.
“They’re so pretty,” you say mindlessly, and Miles turns his gaze from the sky onto you. There’s silence for a moment, and you’re so caught up in the stars you have yet to notice how the boy finds you much more prettier in this light.
“Yeah,” he says lowly, almost in a murmur, “sure is.” He then turns back towards the sky, wondering if it’s the sky he should find more prettier than the girl who keeps him company on the rooftops of their apartment building.
If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!
#flowersinbloom🏵#black reader#black tumblr#black marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x black!reader#marvel spiderman#spiderman marvel#spiderman x reader#spiderman x black!reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#miles morales prowler#prowler miles#e 42 miles morales x reader#42!miles x reader#42!miles morales x reader
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On the subject of humanformers content, I think my hottest take for the transformers community as a whole (that I can think of) is that I… I really don’t think the fanon long braid hairstyle suits ratchet. I KNOW ITS PRETTY IM SORRY BUT HE JUST DOESNT SEEM LIKE THE TYPE TO BRAID HIS HAIR OR GROW IT LONG TO BEGIN WITH.
Ok so theres two particular cases I wanna talk about with this, cuz I think it’s popular enough that’s it’s spread to pretty much every continuity. First I’d like to make an exception- I’m willing to believe MTMTE ratchet wears his hair long or at least longer than most continuities. I’m also willing to believe, nay, INSIST that drift braids it all pretty like and ratchet lets him. This is the one exception I can think of.
Second of all, I need to address TFP ratchet, considering I’m pretty sure this is where that design came from in the first place, and is certainly where it’s the most popular. Ironically, this is the version of him I can LEAST imagine ever putting in the effort for a braid.
Listen okay, that man is STARVING himself due to lack of energon + being focused on the rest of the team, and is basically never seen not working on something. I guarantee you if he were human he wouldn’t have these luscious, flowing, L’Oreal commercial locks in a nice little French/dutch braid. I know y’all love pretty ratchet but I think we need to accept that he’s horrible at self care and would have rough cropped hair and a scruffy short beard or stubble, that man is having a ROUGH time and he ain’t got time for braids or even brushing long ass hair. Not to mention he doesn’t want it getting caught on anything in his lab or god forbid the battlefield.
I saw some fanart for a different character recently on tiktok that actually looked pretty damn close to what I imagined him like (though still perhaps with a darker skin tone like most of the fanon depictions, but the hair and face are pretty close)
Original artist is awwlba on twitter and Instagram
This is all in good fun though, I do adore all the fanart of him with his braid I just can’t imagine him realistically wearing it in a time of war. As always everyone’s entitled to their opinions and hell, I recognize I’m in the minority here 💀 all just to clarify I’m not actually trying to start a hc war, if anyone’s got any other interesting ideas for him lemme know in the replies!
#as nice as he looks with the braid it comes off as too put together to me#ratchet is a cranky tired old man#he has zero time or patience for brushing out tangles in his hair#he’s like one mild inconvenience away from either committing a war crime or keeling over#his ass is NOT committing to maintaining long hair#not in tfp or tfa anyway#maybe#just maybe#in MTMTE#BUT ONLY CUZ DRIFT HELPS#transformers#tfp#mtmte#transformers prime#lost light#maccadam#tfa#ratchet#drift#humanformers#kind of??
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more general headcanons. take them in addition to my other ones.
my last headcanon post got a decent amount of attention so i thought i’d do it again :3 my brain is like. a factory that is constantly producing headcanons from machines it’s how i function
anyways most of these r about magenta because i’ve just been in a very magenta mood recently she’s so silly (i’m going feral why is she so PRETTY)
- brad played with dolls as a kid but his parents took them away when he got “too old” for it to be some cute quirk because a Man has to play with Trucks like a Man anyways he did play with Trucks like a Man but he never forgot how to do their hair so even now he can french braid the shit out of people’s hair, especially magentas hair because the dolls he had also had big poofy hair like hers so he’s used to that. however columbia is typically magentas french braiding person so when she saw her gf getting her hair braided by another man she was like “HOW DARE YOU WE ARE OVER” (as a joke obviously don’t fret)
- magenta can do the splits. idk. i just get that vibe and i’m right about everything soooooo /j
- columbia cannot maintain eye contact and magenta STARES and forgets to blink or look away so every time they talk it’s just
“👁️👁️”
“STOP”
- this is such a specific scenario but if they are shopping and come across a pillow they want to buy they give it the columbia test. what is the columbia test you might ask? they just get columbia to scream all of her pain and trauma into the pillow, and if the sound is muffled enough it is deemed worthy to purchase
- magenta just. brings random animals into the castle. and i’m not talking about “aww she like adopts cats a lot :3” no this bitch has brought in Raccoons from the Backyard and riff raff who is a paranoid ass mf is like “THAT THING HAS RABIES” and magentas like “LISTEN. HER NAME IS BEELZEBUB AND YOU WILL TREAT HER WITH RESPECT”
- why are all of these about magenta help
- speaking of magenta :3 she is a huge wes anderson fan and she and columbia watched isle of dogs together for a lil movie date and columbia sobbed during most of it 👍 she liked it though
-can we all agree that frank just. knows how to vogue. like bro came out of the womb knowing how to do that shit and it stuck with him for the rest of his life
-so i spent a really long time being stumped on how i think columbia would dress. like i have everyone else’s style figured out but i just couldn’t figure out hers for some reason,,,,, until i went down a rabbit hole and discovered cyndi lauper. i mean obviously i had listened to girls just wanna have fun and time after time but i has never actually seen this absolute icon. anyways i discovered her and her style during theater class one day and from then on i knew that columbia dresses like cyndi lauper, columbia listens to cyndi lauper, COLUMBIA IS CYNDI LAUPER
-ok so canonically i dont think this would happen but in my own version of rocky horror that exists in my brain magenta and brad are bffs. like yk those videos u see of “unlikely animal friendships” that is literally just them. it’s like goth gf x Some Guy™️ (x used platonically)
-brad is a die hard swiftie. i won’t elaborate.
-magenta loves loves LOVES abba
-sometimes i forget columbia isn’t canonically a theater kid. cuz like. she just Is a theater kid yk that’s who she is
- she would love grease
i will probably make another one of these posts when my list becomes longer again ‼️‼️
p.s i have. two rocky horror aus. would anyone like me to post about them. because i can. i am so normal about . aus
#rocky horror#rocky horror picture show#rhps#rocky horror au#frank n furter#brad majors#columbia rhps#magenta rhps
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hair headcanons
Various TURN! X reader
how good or bad are our boys at braiding and styling hair, and would they ever let you have a go at theirs?
For having a few sisters, Nathan Hale is average at the subject. He can do a basic braid, and definitely knows how to tie a ponytail, but anything else…he’s consulting a book or tutorial. He enjoys running his fingers through your hair, gently prying away any knots they may have come your way. and of course you can brush his hair, he actually really likes it when you do so. give him a few baby braids to frame his face and he’ll leave them there for a day or two.
Benjamin Tallmadge has no idea what you’re asking of him. He can do a very basic braid on his own hair, but good luck getting him to even attempt it on you without having a bunch of knots. he likes to comb your hair after a shower, you never ask him to, but he always finds you to do it. Ben likes to think even though it’s typically a moment of silence, it’s full of so much love. He’d never ask you to brush his hair, but sometimes you surprise him rounding a corner with his brush, and he’ll never object.
I’d like to think Caleb Brewster sometimes goes a bit without brushing his hair, and when he finally remembers after a few days, you’re chasing him with a comb to try and get it before it’s too late. It’s not that he’s unhygienic he’s just…Caleb. He probably runs his fingers through it in the shower and calls that a comb. Yet he LOVES to brush and braid your hair, he likes it in the morning when it has that soft wave to it. He’s actually pretty good at it, they’re tight and they don’t need to be redone after a little while.
Yeah…no. George Washington has no idea how to do anything that’s even remotely close to a braid, but, some of his favorite moments is when you offer to brush out the knots that have made their way into his ponytail throughout the day. He, in turn, will return the favor. He’s not vain, of course you can touch his hair, he’ll probably grumble about his grey it is, but you just wave him off. You know that if you don’t do this, he will defy neglect the act if drowned in work
Marquis de Lafayette definitely can braid, and damn I definitely think he’s the best at it. Plaits, Dutch, French, he’s very good at them, and he can do them pretty fast. Like Nathan, he enjoys running his fingers through your hair, it’s a symbol of affection, especially if he does it subconsciously sometimes. If you are ever just sitting next to him with your hair down, he’s all over you and you can’t help but bob your head yes. You don’t even have to ask to play with his hair, so he says, but you always do, and you are always surprised by just how soft it is. He likes it when you braid his ponytail, he’ll definitely leave it in as long as he can.
Ensign Thomas Baker knows next to nothing. he definitely knows how to put his own hair up, and he probably could replicate it if you needed an extra pair of hands to put yours in a ponytail, but that’s about it. He’d love it if you taught him how to braid, he thinks it looks so pretty, especially on you. sure, you can do his hair! he’d probably take anything out (barrettes or clips) before he left, but if you braid his hair, he’d definitely going to leave it in! And if you try and take it out, saying it looks bad or you missed a strand, he’ll likely run away from you so you don’t stand a chance of touching it. He loves it.
The grumpiest of all, Alexander Hamilton, will definitely not partake in any of your styling, so he says. it’s cause he’s a busy, or he doesn’t want to, or whatever nonsense he’s come up with for the day. So instead, you walk up behind his desk and take his hair band out, and just as he spins to glower at you, you’re brushing his red locks and he can’t help but melt at the touch. In rarer moments of affection, he will definitely comb your hair out after a bath, or if you are unwell. He’s an emotionally constipated gremlin, just kiss his cheek and tell him to relax. he’s really bad at braids though, don’t expect that of him-your hair will be in knots before very long.
[a/n: took a short break today and decided to work on some headcanons :) ]
#sul writes#turn amc#turn washington's spies#nathan hale#benjamin tallmadge#caleb brewster#george washington#marquis de lafayette#ensign baker#alexander hamilton
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Spun-Sugar Sunlight
For @solreefs. Happy holidays!! (sorry it's right before the deadline!)
Here's my Secret Santa fic for the Keeper Secret Santa 2023, hosted by the lovely @song-tam! Thank you much for running this again, i had a blast <3
You can read on Ao3 here or under the cut <33
Stina eyes the scene in front of her with a slight smile (that she’ll deny to anyone else.) Maruca and Linh are sitting together, Maruca braiding Linh’s hair with a look of intense concentration. Stina adjusts the drinks she’s holding—coffee for her and Marella, tea for Linh, and a peppermint hot chocolate for Marcua—so she can walk over and lower herself carefully to the floor by them.
“Linh, how do you get your hair to never tangle? Like, that’s impressive with how long it is.”
“I brush it out before bed and again in the mornings. But other than that, it might be a family thing? I’m not sure.”
“Hm. Wish I had that genetic disposition.” Maruca’s hands weave in and out of Linh’s hair, the strands twining together.
“Same here. I’d love to not spend at least ten minutes detangling my hair every time I wash it.”
“Right?!” Maruca catches her eye for a moment and smiles, eyes alight. Stina’s face warms and she smiles back. “Anyway, Linh, I’m just about done.” Maruca’s hands move deftly as she ties off the second braid, leaving Linh with long French braids.
Linh stands and moves over to the mirror, touching the braids as she looks at her reflection. Stina takes a sip of her coffee. Linh…Linh looks gorgeous with her hair braided like this, dark hair framing her face, silver curling up through her hair. She looks almost ethereal like this—sunlight casting her in gold and amber, face soft with tender joy.
“Do you like it?” Maruca’s voice is gentle in the moment, and Stina barely breathes. The world seems to be made of spun sugar, sunbeams lighting up the room.
Linh brushes her hand against one of the braids again, and her mouth stretches into a beaming smile. Maruca stands, one foot forward as if to move to her. Stina feels like she’s watching something she shouldn’t, seeing something that should be private between them.
She inhales sharply when Linh pivots and throws herself into Maruca’s arms, thanking her. Stina reaches for her coffee as Linh takes Maruca’s hands, holding them in her excitement.
She’s been on the receiving end of Linh’s profuse thanks before, interlocking hands and shining smiles, feeling the gratitude through their physical connection. She sips at her coffee, and wishes Marella was here, so she didn’t have to sit awkwardly amongst the…thing happening between Linh and Maruca.
“Oh! Stina, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you brought drinks!” Linh sits next to her, picking up her tea.
“Hm? It’s fine, don’t worry about it. You were busy.”
“Still.” Linh blows on it gently and takes a sip, eyes closing with delight. Maruca leans over Stina to get to her drink. Stina’s breath hitches. She hopes neither of them notice (she…maybe hopes that they do.)
“Ooh! Linh, your hair looks so pretty!” Marella drops her bag next to the door when she comes in, grinning at them. Streaks of red have been freshly dyed in her hair.
“Thank you! Maruca braided it earlier.”
“Marella, I have coffee for you.”
“You do? Ugh, just go ahead and marry me, oh my god.” Marella moves to drape herself over Stina. She grabs her cup, and chugs half of it.
“Are you that tired?”
“Fintan’s got me working on controlling multiple sources of fire at once, and using them separately.”
Maruca makes a sympathetic face. “Sounds difficult. Hope it’s not going too badly.”
She shrugs. Stina can feel her exhaustion through where they touch. “It’s going okay. I can make them, but keeping them going all at once isn’t fun.”
“I can imagine. Good luck, Marella.”
“Thanks, Mar.” Marella leans her head on Stina’s shoulder, just for a moment. Exhaustion sinks into Stina from where they touch, followed by a wave of peace. Stina tries to relax into it—feeling other people’s emotions always makes her skin itch and tingle, but she doesn’t want to hurt Marella’s feelings (that she’ll also feel) and the barrier of clothing between them makes it better.
Kind of. Her shoulder still tingles from where Marella touched her. She drinks more of her coffee, fighting against a wave of drowsiness. She runs cold, most of the time, and having someone so warm next to her…well. It’s…it’s like curling up under her massive fluffy blanket and having the heater going. Not the greatest analogy, but it’s hard to think through the syrupy slowness of the afternoon.
“Oh, Linh, I have a trick for keeping your braids smooth after a day or two if you still want to keep it braided.” Marella leans forward slightly when she speaks, blue eyes bright. Stina gazes at her, watching the excitement on her face grow. Marella loves her hair and is always willing to give someone advice if they ask. She’s pretty sure Marella could give Biana a run for her money when it comes to this.
Marella inhales deeply and starts off like a rocket—eyes alight, hands waving, whole body moving with her words. Stina could watch her like this forever, if she tried.
A quick glance away and at the other two shows that they’re just as enraptured as she is. (Do they ever look at her like this? Like she looks at them?) Warmth unfurls in her chest when Marella touches her arm, joy radiating out from where they connect.
Stina…didn’t want to be an Empath that much. It always just felt like another way for people to judge her. Too…mean to be an Empath. Not kind enough, or nice enough, or just too much of the wrong things.
Among her best friends, though, she doesn’t mind it. She wouldn’t give up them for anything, or her Ability if she’s here. Stina bumps her shoulder lightly against Marella’s and settles in onto the floor.
---
Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! Please reblog if you did, it would be very appreciated <3
#the four horsegirls of the apocalypse#stina heks#marella redek#maruca chebota#linh song#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc#indi writes
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Bad Hair Day
Danny Wagner x reader
Word count: 1k+
Warnings: none! just cute lil fluff :)
this is my first fic so honest opinions please! love you all! <3
“I can't figure out what's wrong with my hair!” you huff as you drop your brush on the vanity table and plop on the seat behind you. Danny jumps from the sound of the brush hitting the wood as he makes his way over to you.
“What do you mean, bug?”
“It’s a mess and I can't get it to look right.” you pout, slumped on the seat. Danny begins stroking your head, twisting little knots out of your hair as his fingers make their way through it. He looks down at you with his big brown eyes. His face is washed with concern and sympathy.
“What're you talking about? Your hair always looks good.”
“Don't lie to me.” you snap at him, a little more harshly than you'd intended. You cross your arms across your chest as you frown at him in the mirror.
“Bug, I’d never lie to you.” he scolds.
You sigh dramatically, trying not to show how much he's melting you with his hands in your hair. He gives you a little smirk.
“What can I do to help?” he says as he begins massaging your temples lightly. The pads of his fingers are rough from playing around on his guitar, but his touch is so light you don't mind it.
“I dunno.” you grumble, feigning indignance as you gulp down a shudder.
“Can you think of anything that might make you feel better?” He is now peppering your head with light kisses.
“This is kinda nice” you say, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips. You close your eyes and sink into the seat further.
He grins and moves slowly to your shoulders, massaging them as he watches you relax. He’s always there to wash away your frustrations with a kiss and a flick of his hands. You’ll never know how he can bring you from overly worked up to relaxing without a care in the world in a matter of minutes.
“Just relax, love. I think I have something that might help. May I?” he gestures to the brush you had dropped earlier and looks at you tentatively in the mirror. You nod and hand it to him. He wraps his hand around yours and squeezes it before you let go of the brush. He begins to gently brush through your hair, careful to work through the knots in the ends without pulling too hard. “Let me know if I’m hurting you at all, okay?” You nod again and give him a smile that you hope says “I’m sorry”. He smiles back at you and continues to work through your waves.
Once he's satisfied with how smoothly the brush moves through your hair, he sets it down and begins parting it down the middle. He allows one side to fall over your shoulder as he sections the other into three parts. He starts at the top of your head and begins twisting your hair into a loose french braid. He ties it off with a black hair tie from his wrist. He always keeps them on him in case you need one. He then places the braid against your back gently as he sections the other side of your head. He braids the other side and ties it off with another hair tie from his wrist.
Once he’s finished, he twists your chair around and pulls both braids in front of your shoulders. Before he lets them go, he uses them to pull you into a gentle kiss. His lips are soft and coat you in love as he just barely presses them into yours. He pulls away and leans back to examine you. He feigns concentration as he situates your fly-aways and frames your face with his hands like he's taking a picture. You giggle a little but his expression doesn’t break until he's sure he’s lifted your mood a little. When he’s happy with his little project, he spins you around, using his hand to direct your chin so you're eye-level with yourself in the mirror. A grin spreads across his face, revealing his adorable white, toothy smile.
“Look at my pretty girl. You're perfect.” He sounds almost breathless as you both stare at the mess he has now tamed. You're shocked at how well he did, having thought the braids might come out all bumpy and loose.
“Daniel, you've outdone yourself!” you gasp dramatically holding back a giggle.
“Why thank you, my lady. Only the prettiest braids for my princess.” He closes the sentence with a wink that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You stare at each other in the mirror for a moment before he’s spinning you around to face him again. He gets down on his knees so he can look you in the eyes as he talks to you.
“Do you feel better, bug?” He places his hands on the tops of your thighs and gives them a light squeeze.
“Much better. Thank you…I'm sorry I was snippy earlier.”
“Don't apologize, bug, I understand. I'm always happy to help.” He smiles at you gently and begins rubbing over the top of one of your thighs with his thumb. Your heart swells with love for him. He is so kind to you. How will you ever show him just how much you love him? While it will never be enough, you decide a hug might suffice for now. You wrap your arms around him with tears welling in your eyes.
“I love you, Daniel Wagner. Thank you.”
You feel him melt into you as your bodies tangle into each other.
“I love you, y/n. Now how about we finish getting you ready and grab something to eat. Your pick?”
A tear rolls down your cheek and you wish you could freeze this moment forever. He is so warm and all encompassing. You never want to leave his arms as long as there is breath in your lungs.
“That sounds perfect.”
#greta van fleet#greta van fic#daniel wagner#danny wagner#greta van fluff#fluff#wagner#boyfrienddanny#greta van fleet fic#fanfic
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Re: the French in the fic, tbh it's a pretty common loan sentence so imo if you feel it's best that way it's good enough for me. My first language is actually French and there's plenty of English loanwords and sentences we use all the time, and it seems wrong to try and avoid them at all costs when writing, especially if they have connotations that are not easily found in other French expressions or words. In the context of Naruto, where English is sometimes used (eg. Silent Killing) when the manga is obviously in Japanese, I really do think having some French thrown in is not that bad - I know some people think it breaks immersion to reference real life things (like here the existence of other languages) but language is ultimately a serie of references, so what does it really matter if the best-fitting one is a loanword/sentence?
Oh yeah, no, that was my thought process when writing it. I completely agree.
I think several people commenting didn’t get my explanation, which is that if you are already accepting that the fic is written in English (making the dialogue “in translation”), then you are accepting all the loan words English uses too, which includes a shit ton of French. Like I don’t think anyone is going to nitpick my repeated use of words like “rendezvous” or “reconnaissance.” I don’t think anyone would question “RSVP.” But I did pause at “je ne sais quoi” in my reread of the scene because unlike rendezvous or reconnaissance, it is a whole ass phrase and I do associate it more with a fake and pretentious French accent instead of a completely anglicized pronunciation. BUT it’s also a pretty well established phrase in English and you can look it up in English dictionaries (unlike if I had him say something like “no se que”), and it captures the tone I wanted in a way another English phrase wouldn’t, so I’m letting it stand.
My question was more about what would pull people out of a story (which I assume to be a pretty arbitrary line), and if something like “je ne sais quoi” would do it even if it’s a well established loan phrase and why. Like personally I’d quirk an eyebrow at “French braid” but probably not “Manila envelope” and the reasons for this are completely arbitrary, personal, and do not follow consistent internal logic. I’m not trying to argue there should be any rhyme or reason to it. I just think it’s interesting.
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A French woman in Saint Denis: Chapter 1
(A continuation of one of Mary-Beth’s stories in RDR2)
By: Marie La Croisette
The city was shrouded in mist. It was dark and frightening and anybody could have long since hidden themselves away in their houses. Saint Denis had been French and Spanish and now it was American and yet it was always the same. A place of beautiful decay where the proud hopes of people get lost and delayed in the pleasures and warmth of the city that would never let you leave.
They came here from all over the world. Adventurers, traders, fur dealers from the north, slaves and their masters, everyone who had something to sell or something to buy. Deep in the shadows a figure lurked. The figure was beautiful. Yet if anyone got too close she moved away nervously. Happy to hide herself in the mists that rolled in of the nearby seas. Those same terrible seas brought her here from France. She was running away from her husband. A fearsome French Duke who had married her and then punished her brutally. Even here, she was afraid of his temper. She was a brave woman, and not afraid to meet her fate, yet her husband seemed possessed by evil. Shortly after they were married she had learnt that his family was cursed. It was a terrible curse that possessed the men of the family and turned their hearts black. And she, had run away from it in order to survive.
She sat on the edge of the empty dock, stirring the milky mist with her loose ankles. Her pretty shoes had filled with seawater long before she’d even reached shore. The soles of her feet were swollen and peeling from the constant flow of salt water, and her braided hair was matted to her neck. Long red strands started to fall away in her hands, gentle as they were, the damage to her hair was too severe.
Her body looked more like a corpse than the elegant, womanly form she used to know. Her loving husband had taken more than the flower from her body. As a young woman, she filled her blouses to the brim. Her old friends used to warn not to lead her strides with her chest, lest the boys around Paris mistake her for a painted lady. Being from a lesser family, the girl’s parents often struggled to feed the three of them. However, when there was food on the table, she always ate first. Her shape was soft and feminine in every way, the shape of an hourglass with baby-soft skin.
She was constantly praised for her exceptional beauty by her parents and girlfriends. ‘Oh, Dearie! I’d kill to look like you!’ Her friend Mary would say. Though the more scandalous remarks always came from Matilda: ‘You know, I’ve heard that old Miss. Grant has been sticking a doll full of pins and it looks just like you!’ The girls would giggle and trade nasty words about the ole Miss. Grant, who just so happened to have taught them all reading and writing. The only girl around who seemed to have a problem with her, was Carey Jordan.
No one knew why, but the two were friends nonetheless. Carey was Matilda’s step-sister, though they looked nothing alike. Matilda had rich, black skin and soft, gentle features. She always wore her coily hair in a tuck and adorned it with small yellow or white ribbons. Carey scraped her golden blonde hair into a tight bun and wore a scandalous amount of paint for a young lady. Her body was plump, but shapely. Though she had always struggled with finding a good suitor.
Mean as she was, even Carey Jordan could admit the other girls’ beauty. Little Mary DuPont would say: ‘you make me want to color my hair like yours! Maybe then boys would look at me! I’ve never seen such bright red hair in my life, you know?’
In response she’d either get: ‘oh, don’t say that Mary! You’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever met’ or ‘don’t be silly, Mary! I wish you knew how pretty your eyes are in the sun’ or something to that effect. In truth, Mary DuPont was an incredibly average looking girl. With mousy brown hair and gently tanned, smooth skin. Even so, she appreciated the compliments from her friend.
She went out of her way to make the other girls feel good, for she was aware of the abundant attention she was paid by men, young and old. In summertime, she liked to show off the pretty freckles all over her chest and arms. Mary rubbed at them once, testing the durability of what she assumed must be brown paint. Alas, the beautiful spatter remained, making her foresty eyes grow wide in awe. Mary called her father to try and rub away the freckles, but of course he was unsuccessful as well. He chuckled and patted Mary on the crown of her head, where her pinned up hair was less in the way. ‘There’s no changing a beauty like her, my sweet. But don’t worry, someday you’ll grow into your own good looks. Just like your mother’ he left the girls once more, but not before reminding his daughter’s friends of the time.
Carey and Matilda had to be home by 4:00 pm that day and Mary had a singing lesson at 5:00 pm. It was now nearing 3:30 pm and the sisters thanked Mr. DuPont before returning home. ‘Shall I call your father and have him collect you? Or would you ladies like to play some more?’ Mr. DuPont asked. ‘Papa, can she stay until after my lesson today? Pleeeeease!’ Mary begged. The two little girls exchanged a glance and stared up at Mary’s father with big, watery, puppy dog stares. ‘Oh alright’ he conceded quickly ‘but only if it’s okay with Mr. Van Hopper’
The girls squealed in delight and Mary threw her arms around her father’s waist, squeezing tightly and burying her face into his hard shoulder. ‘Yes, yes, well you’d better behave today, alright Mary?’
‘Yes, Papa!’ Mary had a bit of a reputation amongst the group, of making indecent advances toward her music teacher. She always denied the accusations of course, claiming he was to blame as much as she. To pass time, the girls drew pictures in Mary’s notebooks. Horses and ballerinas mostly, with the occasional self portrait with mousy curls or freckled breasts. Before they knew it, there was a loud knock at the door and Mary’s father was ushering in a tall-ish, wide man with black facial hair. He entered Mary’s bedroom as Mr. DuPont left him be, and greeted her with a chaste kiss to her warm cheek. She smiled and introduced the other girl, to which he responded by taking her hand and kissing the back of it. slowly. With a little too much tongue. ‘Is it alright if she sits in today? Just for today!’ Mary pleaded. ‘Of course, my dear! The more the merrier’
With that, Mr. Van Hopper gestured for Mary to lead the way toward the music room. He followed closely behind the girls and closed the heavy door once they were all inside. Mary stood diligently by the black, grand piano as Mr. Van Hopper sat at it. Mary gestured for her friend to sit on the chaise across from it for the time being. ‘Alright Little Miss Mary, have we been practicing hard?’ He asked. ‘Oh yes, sir! I’ve done all the breathing exercises you told me about and I’ve written down which vowels go where!’ Mary was beaming, clearly taking pleasure in being so good. ‘Good girl, then let us begin’ Mr. Van Hopper plunked out a familiar tune and the red-headed girl began to hum along while Mary sang.:
‘L'amour est un oiseau rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle
S'il lui convient de refuser
Rien n'y fait, menaces ou prières
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait
Et c'est l'autre que je préfère
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plaît’
‘Stop’ said the teacher. ‘Do you know what the words mean?’
‘N-no sir. I’m sorry’ Mary hung her head but he swiftly lifted her chin with his own meaty hand. ‘Don’t be sorry’ he then turned to the girl on the chaise ‘what about you? Do you know?’
‘I do, I love that song’ she replied.
‘Well then, let’s have it!’
She cleared her throat subtly;
‘Love is a rebellious bird
that no one can tame,
and if you call for it, it'll be quite in vain’
He nodded.
‘for it's in it’s nature to say no.
Nothing helps, neither a threat nor a prayer
one talks well, the other rests silent’
She paused…
‘And the next line?’ He probed.
‘Sorry, I’ve forgotten’
‘and it's the other one that I prefer,
doesn't say a thing, but pleases me.’ Mr. Van Hopper finished.
‘Yes’
‘Mercy, how did you know that?’ Mary asked, albeit a little jealous of her friend's skill. Mercy shrugged, ‘I’ve always loved opera, Carmen is one of my favorites’
‘Well, you’ll have to help me learn it later then’ Mary huffed and turned her attention back to the sheet music at the piano.
~
For the next forty-five minutes, Mercy sat silently. Mary sang and Mr. Van Hopper turned toward the two of them to correct her mistakes in a gentle but firm voice. Mercy noticed the way his stocky fingers pressed the keys in an unsettlingly delicate way. It was like her eyes were playing tricks on her, making things look softer than they were.
Finally, Mr. Van Hopper took those fingers off the piano and kissed Mary’s tiny hand before letting her know their lesson for the day had come to an end. He nodded at Mercy as he left the room like a big dark shade. She hadn’t even heard the front door shut, but felt her shoulders release a great deal of tension. ‘Isn’t he amazing?’ Mary asked, her eyes dreamy and wide. ‘Does he always kiss you?’ Mercy asked, only curiously. ‘Mercy O'Clery! Are you accusing me of something?’ Mary wasn’t angry in the slightest, in fact, the smirk on her face was more incriminating than anything Mercy could have already said. ‘No! I mean, just, is he always that… charming?’
‘Oh, yes Mercy!’ Mary sank down onto the piano bench like she was mimicking a fainting person. ‘He always kisses my hand after lessons and calls me things like “pet” or “Miss DuPont”’ she stretched her neck and brushed her dainty fingertips over the sensitive skin. Mercy’s eyes bugged at her friend's display, ‘Isn’t he an old man?’
‘Oh, YES Mercy! He’s forty-four! My own father isn’t even so old! Papa’s only forty-one, can you believe it? And you know, Mercy, they say older men give the best teachings’ Mary sat up, looking Mercy straight in the eye. ‘Really? Who says that?’ Mercy asked. ‘I don’t know! Just… people! Matilda even said she got to go to the islands with her old violin teacher’ Mary got up and readjusted her skirts and collar. She took Mercy’s hand and all but dragged her to the writing desk in the corner of the room. She shoved her into the soft, high-backed chair and scrambled her hands around the desk until parchment lay in front of her and a pen got slapped into Mercy’s hand. ‘Here! Write! Write a letter to Mr. Van Hopper and ask him for singing lessons. Clearly he already likes you, so it shouldn’t be hard’
~
#molly o'shea#rdr2#mary beth gaskill#tilly jackson#karen jones#death to Dutch Van Der Linde#red dead redemption fanfiction#red dead redemption two#red dead redemption#fanfic#writing#fanart#rdr2 fanfic
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wanted - part one
This is part one of a series I'm writing! Find the masterlist here.
Colson x Original Female Character, Pete X Original Female Character
Warnings: language, alcohol and drugs mentioned, talk of virginity and mentions of sex, mental health and self-esteem mentioned
Note: This is an au where they aren't famous. The band exists but they're just college kids.
Word Count: 2065
I’ve always been the one who gets picked last.
When I was in elementary and middle school, I was always the one chosen last for the team, too skinny and unlikable, or maybe just too invisible to be picked. In high school when I finally had a group of friends, I was never the one that guys went for. I had one boyfriend in high school because my best friend wanted to double-date, so she set me up with her boyfriend’s best friend. We lasted two weeks before I got the ick and broke up with him over text message.
Maybe it was for the best. I had no interest in actually dating guys in high school. I just liked pining after the ones who would never know I existed. It was safer that way; I couldn’t be rejected or get hurt. I found solace in my head, in spending time alone and learning to like it.
I had no interest in sex in high school; it grossed me out and scared the shit out of me, so even if I’d had a boyfriend, I would have never been able to get past making out with him. I was too uncomfortable in my own skin, and the thought of letting someone else see me caused me so much anxiety that it made me sick.
By the time I was 21, I was still a virgin and it was humiliating. All of my friends had lost it and had slept with more than one person at that point, and there I was, never having even gone past making out. I finally lost it to one of my guy friends and cried on the drive home. A year later and I haven’t gone any further than a few handjobs and one blowjob, and I still haven’t had a boyfriend.
I still feel like guys look right through me. I’m not sure why. I think I’m pretty enough, relatively tall with pale blonde hair and green eyes. I wouldn’t say I’m supermodel beautiful by any means, but I’m not ugly. All of my friends tell me I could have anyone I wanted, but I know that isn’t true.
For all of those reasons and more, I can’t wrap my head around why I’ve found myself in the situation I’m in: torn between two gorgeous men who both want me. I want them, too. Both of them. I have no idea how to handle it, and I know it’s all going to crash and burn soon enough.
My life is pretty boring. I don’t really do much other than spend time with girlfriends, do schoolwork, work, and sleep. I’ve decided that this year, I’m going to have some fun. I’m going to meet guys and stop being so timid about it. I’m going to go to parties when invited rather than turn them down like I always do. I’m wasting my youth and I don’t want to do it anymore.
So when my classmate and friend invites me to her band’s show, I say yes.
Sophie is my closest friend in my creative writing program. She’s a horror writer but she’s also a kickass guitar player. She plays in a local band with quite a following; they’re attempting to make it big. I have no idea if they’re good or not; this will be my first time watching them perform. Sophie is the only girl in the band, so she told me she needs girlfriends there to support her.
She told me it was a basement show, nothing too fancy, so I don’t have to dress up. Still, I’m not really sure what to wear to something like this. There’s an afterparty at Sophie’s bandmate’s house and I’m invited to that, too. It’ll be a smaller group of people and she’s insisted that I’ll love her friends. I’m anxious, but excited, too. I hope she’s right.
It’s still warm out, so I decide on a black bodysuit and some high-waisted jean shorts with my favorite high-top Converse. I French-braid my hair, knowing it’ll be hot in the basement, and keep my makeup and jewelry light. I’m feeling good when I leave my apartment, stopping to pick up another one of our classmates, Alicia.
“I hope they’re good or this is gonna be awkward,” Alicia says dryly, applying lipstick in my car mirror.
I chuckle and glance at the GPS. “We’ll support her nonetheless,” I tell her.
“Honestly, they can suck all they want. I’m just going to see the guys in the band,” she says, then moans.
I wince and laugh. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Alicia shoots me a look, her brown eyes glinting. “Have you not seen them?” she asks incredulously. “Every single one of them is fucking hot.”
“No way,” I say skeptically, glancing at her momentarily.
“I mean it,” Alicia says, pulling her phone from her purse. She navigates for a few moments, then holds her phone out. “My personal favorite is the drummer, Rook.”
“Rook?” I ask, glancing at a picture of a guy with a nice smile, wincing. “What’s with the braids?”
“Hey, don’t knock the braids,” Alicia says defensively, pulling her phone back. “His name is JP but he goes by Rook. They all have nicknames. This is Slim, he does the keyboard and stuff.” She turns the phone back to me, phone displaying a picture of a man with warm, brown skin and a beard. “Brandon is his real name, but no one calls him that.”
“Okay, he’s cute,” I offer.
“Baze, or Steve, plays bass,” she says.
“Baze. Bass. Got it,” I say, glancing at a picture of a man with incredible hair and a beard to match. “He’s awesome.”
“And sexy,” Alicia adds. “Justin plays guitar.” Another picture of a man, this one with short dreadlocks. She’s not wrong, every single person is good looking.
“And finally,” she says. “The one that gets all the panties wet.”
“Ew,” I interrupt.
“Kells, the lead singer.” Alicia holds her phone up and I have to do a double-take. On her phone is a picture of, quite possibly, the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, nose rings, jewelry in his ears and on his neck and on his fingers. Skin littered with tattoos.
“Holy shit,” I say, taking her phone to ogle him while at a red light.
“I told you,” Alicia says smugly.
“Is Kells his real name?” I ask, still fixating on the photo.
“Colson,” Alicia says. “Most people call him Kells because their band is called-”
“Machine Gun Kelly,” I answer for her, nodding. “Gotcha.”
The light turns green and I reluctantly hand Alicia back her phone. My skin feels slightly flushed and my heart is beating a little faster. All from a picture. I blow out a breath to regain some composure.
“Colson is single, by the way,” Alicia says, since I don’t ask. “But I guess he doesn’t really date. He mostly sleeps around.”
“Gotcha,” I answer, trying not to sound disappointed. I snap out of it quickly, though, because there’s no way that someone who looks like Colson would go for me.
Soon enough, we arrive at the venue and park in the parking lot. We go inside and squeeze our way into the basement, already stuffed to the gills with people and stiflingly hot. I look around, taking in the haze of smoke hovering above the bodies, smell the scent of cigarettes and weed and the slightly fruity hint of vape smoke. My eyes land on the stage where a couple of people are testing instruments. I don’t recognize any of them from the pictures, so I assume they’re crew.
“How popular are they?” I yell to Alicia over the noise.
“Pretty popular!” Alicia calls back. “Decent amount of streams on Spotify, I think.” I just nod.
We squeeze our way to a spot near the front, and we spot Sophie standing by the side of the stage, a beer in hand as she talks to someone…was it Justin? She turns to spot us and squeals excitedly. “You made it!” she gushes, waving us over. We embrace her together. “This is Justin, the other guitarist. Justin, this is Alex and Alicia.”
“Nice to meet you,” Justin says, shaking our hands. “Glad Soph’s friends could make it.”
“Show’s starting in five minutes, let me grab you beers,” Sophie says, waving for us to follow her. Behind the stage, there’s a small area with tables, equipment, and a fridge. Sophie extracts two beers and hands them to us.
“Sophie, these your friends?” a voice asks. The guy I recognize as Rook, the drummer, approaches, and Alicia blushes. “I’m Rook.” He shakes our hands, holding eye contact with Alicia for a moment. I feel a slight wave of insecurity. It’s always someone else before it’s me.
Sophie turns her head. “Kells! Slim! Baze!” she calls. “Come meet my girls!”
Three men approach, and my eyes immediately land on Colson. Holy shit, he’s even hotter in person. I will myself to relax, play it cool. The guys shake our hands, and sure enough, Colson’s eyes barely skim over mine before he’s looking away, seemingly too cool for this interaction. I’m ready to get into the crowd where I can hide again.
“Five minutes,” a woman calls out to them, and the boys scatter. Sophie leads us to a spot in the front row and my heart rate eases just a little now that I’m not in the presence of so many gorgeous men.
“Hot as fuck, right?” Alicia says with a smirk.
I shrug. “Not like I have a chance with any of them,” I mutter.
Alicia frowns. “That’s so not true, Alex,” she says.
I raise a brow. “Colson barely noticed me. Rook was eye-fucking you.”
“He was, wasn’t he?” Alicia gushes excitedly, and I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. Before our conversation can continue, the lights dim and the band comes out. The room erupts in deafening cheers and I link arms with Alicia as the crowd begins to swell and shift.
“What’s up, we’re Machine Gun Kelly,” Colson says into the mic, another cheer following his words. “Thanks for coming out.” He puts the pick to his guitar and into the mic, shouts, “2, 3, 5!” Immediately, the band breaks into song and I’m instantly impressed by the way they blend.
Colson starts to sing and it’s like my eyes glue themselves to him. I can’t look anywhere else. He’s captivating, the best stage presence I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve been to many concerts. The way he moves, the way he plays the guitar, I’m unable to take my eyes off of him. The song moves into the chorus and I fall in love with his voice, the raspy depth of it, the way it moves over the syllables and notes. Fuck, I’m so attracted to this man.
All night, I try to watch Sophie, try to watch Baze on the bass or Rook on the drums, but my eyes always drift back to Kells. Colson. No wonder every girl wants him. He’s like the human embodiment of sex.
The show ends and everyone claps wildly, including me. It’s the best show I’ve ever been to in my life, and I’m immediately disappointed that it’s over. Alicia turns to me, eyes wild and excited. “Holy shit!” she yells.
“That was fucking incredible!” I say, adrenaline rushing through me. “Wow!”
“Let’s go find Sophie!” Alicia says, taking my hand. We make our way backstage and Sophie runs at us, embracing us again.
“Sophie, holy shit!” I gush. “That was incredible!”
“Thanks,” Sophie says, beaming widely.
“Good show, Soph,” Colson says, wrapping her in a hug.
“That was amazing,” I blurt, looking at Colson.
He gives a lazy smile. “Thanks,” he says, and immediately, he’s gone again, going over to hug Rook.
“You coming to the after party?” Sophie asks.
“Of course,” Alicia says.
Sophie glances over her shoulder and leans in conspiratorially. “Rook thinks you’re cute,” she tells Alicia with a smirk.
Alicia squeals. “Oh, I’m 100% sucking his dick tonight,” she says matter-of-factly, and Sophie and I crack up.
“We’ll probably be there in like an hour,” Sophie says. “Gotta clean up.”
“We’ll go grab something to eat,” I say. “See you there!”
#machine gun kelly#mgk#colson baker#pete davidson#machine gun kelly fanfic#mgk fanfic#colson baker fanfic#pete davidson fanfic
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Okay so this thought literally rose me from my slumber last night but I want to French braid akis hair... his hair may be short but I’d get it done!!! And then when he takes it out his hair would be all pretty and wavy 😍 I’d be taking pictures from afar. For science
BRAIDING AKI'S HAIR I WILL SOB;;;; THAT IS SO SOFT i just,,, i feel like it smells so nice and is very soft WAILS he is so <333;;; BUT HELLOO AKI W THE LIL BRAID WAVES..so cute king.. he would look good w any hair just look at how many ppl love him with the turnip top F:LS:KF
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You know how to make a girl happy?
Give her the best orgasm alive. Forreals.
Trillest shit ever. If you make ya bitch cum, she’ll do anything for you!
I hate wasting a good outfit.
Like, for example.. When I actually feel like getting dressed or something & be out there super swagga drippin n shit.. I usually end up going to the grocery store & just stuntin’ on some grandmas.
There is so much ass on the internet.. WTF
Like, I just be bumping into girls on websites & wild the fuck out, man! Ass ass ass. & some of these chicks live in SUPER random places like Czechoslovakia & West Bubblefuck n shit like WTF?
“wyd?”
Just flying around in my underwear, on my futuristic jet pack, made by Rolls Royce, while Beyonce is clinged on to my nipples w/ diamond encrusted tweezers, listening to the song, irreplaceable “nm”
I look like motha fuckin Shreeva Poonjabi in the morning. Don’t ask who that is. ‘cause I don’t even know. It just seems like a name that belongs to some nigga that would look like me, when I wake up.
Currently chilling w/ King Arthur IV, surrounded by 10 bad bitches who we demanded to twerk, for 2 straight hours, while getting my ass hairs braided. #FlyShit 😎
imagine if humans had updates like computers do like u go to sleep downloading updates nd wake up w/ a fuckin jetpack built into ur spine nd have laser vision n shit LOL that shit would be cray 😁
*****fuck these lame ass rap comedians, they can't touch edgar allan poe
quoth the raven nevermore
I’d rather be your nikkuh, she’d rather be my bitch.. but no emotions cause we both is busy focused on a grip, real shit
pweourtpweiqhr5lqwker I just found some chick I used to go to high school w/ in a porno daqqwwawawgg o0o0o0 I knew this bitch was a skeezer
u ever get so fuckin goofy high that u start speaking in ancient hieroglyphics on sum สบขอรอสไบ shit
My mom deadass bought 3 fucken hermit crabs .. not 1 but 3 .. bro they finna collaborate n open up a krusty krab in my house n shit
I'm done wit normal girls they too basic .. blind girls are the new wave ladies hit my dms .. or should i say ..:.:: :..::.. ::.:
Whats good w/ these hoes walking aroun w/ fake nails, fake hair, & fake eyes talkin’ bout they want a REAL MAN?
Don’t be the shadow, be the dickriding whore everyone remembers.
I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.
Fate is so interesting, don’t you think
Let’s be real.. You can’t fuckin stand there & tell me “looks don’t matter”. I hate when people do that shit. Yeah.. A person can be the nicest being in this entire universe, but if his/her face was burnt, TELL ME you wouldn’t have that be a factor for you. -___- STOP IT. Looks matter.
Don’t trip.. I remembered. I just didn’t greet you on purpose. Celebrate hard and take a shot for me, k?
YEEESSS. Dinosaur nuggets, french fries & onion rings. I feel like Jesus is crip walking in my mouth right now. FUCKFUCKFUCK
DUDE I just lost $50 on gambling
That’s like 50 fuckin McDoubles. -___-
Tell yo friends about me *mobster voice*
Click ya’ heels 3 times and teleport into Rasheed Wallace’s bald spot.
Im pretty loaded off Moscatto.
& I have to say there is NOTHING worse than those “day-after alcohol dumps”.. Which I feel approaching my anus in about 2 minutes.
Oh shit, uh.. we’re kinda like a big deal.
her ego awakens my inner demon
Love me now, before they all do
It’s big GUWOP B!tch!
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A Hairy Situation-Technoblade
On that note, this is a Techno x GN! reader in the dreamsmp
#282, 291, 343 from this list. Check out my masterlist here
When Wilbur and Tommy leave on an adventure, Techno and Y/N are left alone together. Y/N “helps” Techno in his potato farm and offers to braid his hair. Tensions rise as more and more time passes.
“What do you mean you’re going on a multiple day journey into the nether?” I all but shouted at Tommy and Wilbur. The two brothers looked at each other before turning back to me with raised eyebrows. “We mean exactly what we said. We need blaze rods and we have to find a different nether fortress than the one everyone else uses, you know, because we were banished.” Wilbur explained as if it should be obvious. I let a pout take over my lips, “Well how come I can’t come with you?” The two brothers gave me a deadpan stare. “Because you’re terrified of hostile mobs,” Tommy deadpanned. “Well it’s not my fault they’re scary and always trying to kill me…” I trailed off. “Can you at least take Techno with you? I don’t want to be stuck here in the ravine with him for days on end.” “Believe me sweetheart, I’m not too stoked about it either.”
The new voice that came from behind me caused me to jump in surprise, “But I’m needed here. My potatoes will be ready soon, I need some more materials, and someone has to watch over you and make sure you don’t die.” Techno listed. I let out an offended gasp and turned my complete attention to the pigman. “How dare you. I am a complete, functional, grown adult. I do not need a babysitter! I can take care of myself.” The three brothers all just stared at me, not amused. I let out a sigh, “You call for help because you get startled by a zombie one time and they never let you live it down.” I mumbled to myself. “Y/N it’s been more than one time. It’s once a day.” Wilbur stated carefully.
I sighed in annoyance, but also knew he was right, “Okay fine. Whatever. When are you guys leaving?” I questioned, turning my attention back to Wilbur and Tommy. Wilbur checked his sundial before answering. “Now. It’s late evening now and I’d like to get out of here before nightfalls. You know, mobs and whatever.” I hummed and nodded at his response. “You have everything you need?” I asked, looking over the two. Wilbur gave me a soft smile before nodding. “We have everything. Food, armor, building blocks, compass. We’ve got it all mom” He teased. I playfully rolled my eyes at his words, “Okay son. Give me a hug and get going then.” I teased, holding my arms out to the tall man.
Wilbur let out a laugh, but complied, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me tight. He let go and moved to Techno and gave him a short hug. While he did that I turned my attention to Tommy, “You too boy,” I giggled, extending my arms and slowly walking toward him. Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes but also complied. I squeezed the boy tightly to my chest before letting him go. He then also moved onto Techno, giving his other brother a small hug. After hugs, the four of us walked over to the nether portal and Wilbur and Tommy stepped into it. “Be careful” I called out. “We will!” Wilbur responded. And then they were gone.
I sighed at the disappearance of the boys. “They’ll be okay,” Techno reassured me, reading my mind. I turned around and gave the pink haired man a tight lipped smile, “I know I just worry.” I admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Techno hummed in response. “Do you want to come help me in my potato farm to get your mind off of it for a little bit?” Techno being nice to me? More likely than you think. Nonetheless, I agreed, “Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks Techno.”
*Time skip*
Me helping in Techno’s potato farm actually only boiled down to Techno doing all of the work, harvesting and planting, and me sitting on top of a chest just hanging out and chatting with him. I watched as the pink haired man’s face got more and more covered in not only sweat, but dirt. Every once in a while, Techno would blow out a breath of air, trying desperately to move his long pink hair out of his face and when that didn’t work, he would bring his dirty hand up to his face to move the hair manually. In doing so, he transferred that dirt from his hand onto his face. After watching him do this for a solid hour, I finally let the question slip off of my tongue.
“Hey, do you want me to braid your hair.” Techno’s head snapped up from the ground and turned to me, “What?” He questioned. I cleared my throat as my cheeks flushed at the sudden attention, “Nevermind. It was stupid. You obviously-” “What did you say?” Techno questioned again, cutting off my self-deprecating rant. I cleared my throat once more, “I asked if I could braid your hair. Your hair seems to keep falling in your face and it would be easier to work if it was tied back. So I was wondering if you wanted me to braid it for you.” I stated shyly.
Techno stared at me for a few moments, but then he let out a laugh and set his hoe down. “You know what. That’s not actually a bad idea. I would like that actually.” My eyes widened in shock as the man walked toward me. “Oh!” I squeeked, “Okay! Well here!” I said, standing up from the chest, patting the spot where I was sitting. “Sit here and I’ll get started!” I announced.
Techno complied and followed my orders. I moved so that I was standing behind him. I hesitantly brought my hand up and rested it on Techno’s pink head. I slowly ran my fingers through his hair, detangling it from it’s knots. Techno let out a sigh in contentment as my fingers massaged his scalp. I carefully separated his hair into separate strains and began the braid.
We sat in a comfortable silence as I worked. Techno was surprisingly complacent as I twisted his hair the way I wanted. I had decided to go with a french braid as it was simple, effective and would hold for a long time. “There,” I let out softly as I secured the end of the braid with an extra hair tie of mine, “all done.” I informed. Techno stood from the chest and turned around to face me. Techno brought a hand up to the back of his head and felt down the braid. A small smile appeared on the pink-haired man’s face. I was taken back. Techno looked good. Really good. I usually don’t get to see him without his hair covering his face. And I almost never get to see him smile, you know cause he hates me sometimes.But now, because of the braid. I could see him clearly and he was handsome.
“Thank you for this.” Techno said sincerely, breaking me out of . I gave the man a shy smile, cheeks now flushing, “It’s no problem,” I told him with a half shrug. Techno turned back to his field and continued his work. I sat back down on the chest and allowed my eyes to focus on the pink haired man once more. Do I like Techno? My heart sure seems to think so. How could my brain not notice this before? As I thought it over, my heart pounded harder. I liked Technoblade. All the teasing and poking fun at the pink haired man was my sad attempt at hiding and burying those feelings deep down.
“You okay over there?” Techno questioned, breaking me out of my trance. My eyes focused on his really handsome face, “Oh yeah. Just thinking,” I admitted. Techo hummed, leaning against his hoe. “Whatcha thinking about?” “You look really cute covered in dirt.” I blurted out. I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I cannot believe I just said that,” I mumbled into my hand. I looked up and met Techno’s wide eyes. He then proceeded to clear his throat and laugh, “The way you flirt is shameful. Telling someone they look good covered in dirt? Kind of cringe.” “I just rarely ever see your whole face because it’s usually your hair’s covering it. You’re just very handsome.” I admitted, cheeks now flushing a deep red. Techno’s cheeks were now also flushing a deep red. “Oh, well… Thank you.” “Anytime. I think you’re pretty cool and you deserve to be complimented.”
Oh gosh. Why did I make that comment? We fell into a tense silence. After a few minutes, I let out a huge yawn. “I think I’m going to head to bed now… Don’t stay up too late, okay?” I told him, standing up from the chest. Techno didn’t look at me but hummed in acknowledgement. I turned and started out of the farm room, but then I paused at the door and turned back, “Goodnight Techno” I wished the man softly. Techno slowly looked up and over at me and gave me a soft smile making my heart flutter, “Goodnight Y/N. Sweet dreams.” He murmured. “Thanks.” I responded before turning and completely walking out of the room.
I sighed and rubbed my face as I made my way to my makeshift room. I really hope that my words didn’t just mess everything up between us. I let out a yawn as I laid down on my bed. I’ll just deal with it in the morning.
*Time skip. The next day*
I groaned as I rolled out of bed the next morning. I yawned as I made my way out of my room. I was greeted with the pink haired man sitting at the oak table that I had built for our little base reading a book. “Good morning” I greeted the man softly, turning toward our food chest and pulling out a little something for breakfast. “Morning” Techno greeted gruffly, glancing up at me. As I looked over at him, I realized the dirt from his face was gone, but the braid in his hair remained intact. For some reason, my heart fluttered.
I quickly turned my attention back to what I was doing.“Do you want anything for breakfast?” I asked, looking over the things in our food chest. “Uh, I’ll have whatever you’re having. Thanks” He said, before turning his attention back to his book. I pulled out a few eggs and two steaks. I made quick work of making breakfast.
“Here you go.” I set the plate of breakfast in front of the PVP God with a small smile. “Thank you,” Techno hummed, setting his book down and turning to his breakfast. I sat down across from him and began to enjoy my own breakfast.
We sat in a comfortable silence as we ate. Towards the end of our meal, Techno cleared his throat, causing me to look up. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” Techno asked nervously. I quirked a brow at his words, “You just did. But if you want to ask another, go ahead” I teased. Techno’s face matched his hair as it turned a light shade of pink. Techno cleared his throat once more, “Okay. Well I was wondering…. Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” Techno questioned. It was now my face’s turn to turn pink. “It’s okay if you didn’t. I know that sometimes we tease each other and if that was what that was it’s okay. I just wasn’t sure and-”
“Techno” I called, interrupting the pig man’s words. “I meant them. Everything I said to you yesterday. I meant it. I think you’re really cool and funny and handsome and I really really like you.” I admitted, not looking at the man sitting across from me, “I didn’t mean to blurt them out like that yesterday though. I was just so caught up in looking at you that I realized everything all at once and I just blurted them out. If you don’t like me back, that’s okay. We can just pretend like-” “-Y/N-” “-nothing ever happened and we can go-” “Y/N!” “-back to normal and-”
Something covered my lips, cutting off my words. I then realized it was Techno’s lips that covered my own. My eyes widened in surprise, but then immediately fluttered closed as I relaxed into the kiss. A hesitant hand reached up and cupped my cheek, pulling me even closer. All too soon, Techno pulled away from the kiss, but remained rather close, his hand still resting on my cheek. “I like you Y/N, I have for a while” Techno admitted softly. My lips curled up into a grin. “Well you’re in luck Mr. Blood God, because I like you too.” I told him with a proud grin. Techo rolled his eyes but let out a laugh, “I know you goof. You told me as you were rambling and then refused to let me get in a word.” Techno teased. I laughed at his words, “Well I’m sorry I don’t handle rejection well. And therefore didn’t let you get in a word so you couldn’t reject me.” I rambled out. Techno laughed, “That’s big brain,” “The biggest”
The two of us stared at each other for a while, just smiling. Techno let his hand fall off my cheek and leaned back a little bit. “Y/N?” He asked. “Techno?” I responded. “Do you want to be my partner?” I grinned at his question, “That depends. Do you want to be my partner?” I questioned. Techno rolled his eyes but quickly leaned forward and pressed another kiss to my lips. “I think you know the answer to that” I grinned and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “I think I do.”
Our conversation was cut off by the sound of the nether portal activating. Techno and I exchanged confused looks. The two of us stood up and rushed toward the obsidian structure. Wilbur and Tommy stumbled out of the portal. “Hey guys!” Tommy greeted with a huge smile and wave. “Hey! Why are you guys back so soon?” I questioned, rushing forward and pulling the two boys into a tight hug. “Turns out,” Wilbur began after I let the two go, “There’s a nether fortress less than 1500 blocks away from our portal. And we made sure it is not the same one everyone else uses.” Wilbur explained. I nodded my head at his words.
“That’s so lucky,” Techno said, drawing the attention to him. “What happened to your hair?” Tommy blurted out. Techno immediately brought a hand up to his head. “Oh, Y/N braided it.” Tommy’s head whipped to me, “You braided his hair?!” Tommy yelled. I furrowed my brow as his question, “Obviously. He just told you that” I stated. Wilbur and Tommy stared in disbelief. “What?” I asked, a little self-conscious. “Techno never lets anyone touch his hair.” Wilbur said softly.
My head whipped to Techno whose face was now red. “What? Then why’d you let me braid your hair?” Techno gave me a half-shrug. “What can I say? I’m a simp” the pink haired man admitted. Laughter burst out of my mouth. I cannot believe he actually said that. My laughter must have been contagious because the three brothers also began to laugh. “Techno!” I whined, walking up to him. Techno, still laughing, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to his chest, “It’s true!” He defended himself, laughter dying down.
“Woah! Woah! Woah! When did this happen?” Tommy questioned. The two of us looked back at Wilbur and Tommy, “Ummm. Literally two seconds before you guys came home.” I told them, stepping back from my partner. “Well in that case. Tommy and I are going to go put away the blaze rods and then we’re probably going to nap.” Wilbur said, yawning at the end of the sentence. The two of us nodded in acknowledgement as the two of them walked further into the ravine.
“Well… What do you want to do now?” I questioned my new boyfriend. Techno gave me a smile before wrapping me in another hug. “You wanna come help me in my potato farm again?” I giggled and nodded, “I would love nothing more”
There you go! I hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like or a reblog or a reply!!
#mcyt#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#mcyt drabble#prompt list#requested#ray-ray-writings#technoblade#technoblade imagine#technoblade x reader#gender neutral#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#a hairy situation#dreamsmp#dream smp#dreamsmpau#au#dreamsmp imagine#dream smp imagine
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Aragon Tour Sneak Peeks: Hair, Makeup, and Nails
Hey y’all! Aragon Tour is officially debuting tomorrow and I cannot wait. Thought I’d compile a few collages with the sneak peeks we’ve gotten of their looks! Costume and boot sneak peeks will be posted a little bit later today!
Heads up that I generally do not post anything until the queens or Six post it themselves. That means that any photos of the queens in costume that have already been posted by other sources are going to stay in my drafts until we get an official opening. I just think it’s generally respectful to allow them to post those photos first!
Principals’ hair and makeup
From L-R in the top row: Khaila Wilcoxon as Aragon, a photo with Jasmine Forsberg as Seymour and Khaila Wilcoxon as Aragon, Jasmine Forsberg as Seymour, Storm Lever as Boleyn
L-R bottom row: two photos of Olivia Donalson as Cleves; Gabriela Francesca Carrillo as Parr
These makeup looks all follow the standard US makeup plots (which are also used by Broadway) with slight alterations to designs and shades to flatter these queens. The most notable detail is that Olivia uses white and black and no red eyeshadow like Brittney Mack, which is so far unique to the US.
As far as hair goes I’m mostly going to wait since I want to respect Six’s rules about when photos should be posted. However, I will note that Khaila and Olivia both have full wigs.
Erin Palmer Ramirez’s hair and makeup
Erin covers B/H/P. She’s already experimented a little bit with her Boleyn look over a few different days, but we only have stuff from one day for Howard and Parr. I’ll go into more detail when her makeup look is finalized for her debuts, but right now it’s a red lip and green eyeshadow for Boleyn, brighter bubblegum pink lip and eyeshadow for Howard, and a muted nude lip with bright sapphire blue eyeshadow for Parr. We don’t know what her Parr hairstyle will be, but she seems to wear her own hair curled for Boleyn and will have a Howard ponytail.
Kelsee Sweigard’s hair and makeup
Kelsee covers A/S/P. The top row shows her white and silver Seymour eye makeup. The bottom row has her wearing her Parr look one eye and her Aragon on the other. She’s going for a little bit more defined gradient look with glitter for hers compared to Erin, which will better suit her eye shape. Not sure what her lipstick will look like yet as she seems to be wearing the same one (or a very similar one) in all of these photos.
Kelly Denice Taylor’s hair and makeup
We’ve only really seen Kelly Denice Taylor’s Aragon look, but we have seen her full wig, makeup, crown! She has metallic gold eyeshadow that she keeps mostly pretty even along her eyelid. We haven’t seen her lipstick. Her wig has a mix of dark brown. black, and blonde tones. It’s braided back in six french braids.
We’ve also seen her prepping one eye with a white eyeshadow. Based on the look so far, that’s most likely her Cleves look, but it could be Seymour if she covers her.
Cassie Silva’s hair and makeup
We’ve only seen Cassie’s Howard look, so that’s all that’s pictured here. It’s pretty standard - bubblegum pink lip, Howard wig, etc. Let me note that the costume she’s wearing there is NOT hers for the Aragon Tour. More info about that here.
Principals’ nails
The principals all got acrylics done in New Haven by @/ada_hottips. These designs will most likely change throughout the run depending on who is doing their nails in any given city, but for right now:
- Khaila (Aragon) has gold and black nails. Her ring finger has a golden crown on a black background.
- Storm (Boleyn) has less clear photos, but they seem to be a mix of emerald green and either black or emerald sparkles.
- Jasmine (Seymour) has white and black nails, with each nail painted black on one half and white on the other.
- Olivia’s (Cleves) are really hard to see, but they seem to be alternating between red and red sparkles w/ a row of black crystals on her ring finger (this is likely an intentional reference to her status as a divorced queen, as Khaila also has a crown design on her ring finger)
- Didi Romero (Howard) has hot pink and black nails.
- Gabriela Francesca Carrillo haven’t been obviously in any pictures that I’ve seen.
Alternates’ nails
Like the Broadway alternates, the NAT alts have nails in a combo of black, white, and nude tones. The designs will continue to change and in fact already have a few times between early tech and today (the day before opening), but here’s what we’ve seen so far.
Top left: Kelsee Sweigard, Chicago opening week. Done by J’s Blossom Nail and Spa.
Top right: Erin Palmer Ramirez. Chicago opening week. Done by J’s Blossom Nail and Spa.
Bottom left: Kelly Denice Taylor. New Haven tech. Done by @/ada_hottips
Bottom center: Erin Palmer Ramirez. New Haven tech. Done by @/ada_hottips
Bottom right: Cassie Silva. New Haven tech. Done by @/ada_hottips
In-ears
The in-ears are in the same style as Broadway. The alternates get a black/silver combo, while all principals get them in their color. You can see what some of the others will look like here.
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Photo credits
Principal makeup: Khaila Wilcoxon, Jasmine Forsberg, Olivia Donalson, and Gabriela Francesco Carrillo’s respective individual looks from their Instagrams; photo of Khaila and Jasmine from Khaila’s story; Storm Lever photo from Kelly’s takeover of @/broadwayinchicago
Alt makeup: All photos of Erin from her Instagram. Photo of Cassie and Kelly with potential Cleves makeup from Cassie’s Insta. Kelsee’s braided hair and Seymour makeup photo, Kelly’s wig and full look photos from Kelly’s takeover of @/broadwayinchicago. Other photos of Kelsee from her Instagram.
Principals nails: Khaila, Storm, and Didi’s nails from their accounts; the photo of everyone’s nails from Khaila’s account
Alt nails: Kelly’s from her @/broadwayinchicago takeover; everyone else’s from their respective accounts.
In-ears: All from their own accounts
#six the musical#six 22 23 aragon tour#six makeup#six wigs#six hair#khaila wilcoxon#storm lever#jasmine forsberg#olivia donalson#didi romero#gabriela francesca carrillo#erin palmer ramirez#kelly denice taylor#kelsee sweigard#cassie silva#catherine of aragon six#catherine parr six#anna of cleves six#anne boleyn six#katherine howard six#jane seymour six#six musical
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