The hockey team stands in a semi-circle, facing their newest player. No one quite meets anybody else's eyes.

Ingo has a fixed, manic smile on his lips. "This is awkward."

"No kidding." Deniz looks utterly confused.

"Someone ought to say something," says Andy.

The guys all seem to have compelling reasons why that someone should not be them.

Vanessa rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Hey Frank!" she yells. The newbie flinches. "You play great, so you're on the team, obviously, but sweetie, do you think we've never seen boobs before?"

"More importantly, why would we mind them?” Florian asks, incredulous.

This exactly how it should have been! Vanessa still in the team, yeah!

Vanessa and Frank.

Oh, I want that so badly.

They would have been he bad-assest of bad-asses on the ice. SO MUCH STEINKAMP SASS.

This would definintely have been the best way of introducing Frank, our manly man.

And Vanessa is still there. Not this 'only one girl at a time' policy. There should be more of the tough Steinkamp girls in the team.

The pants had been the hardest thing to find; the black shirt had been easy, the white fitted jacket something he'd stumbled on in the department store where he'd been searching uneasily. Even the shoes weren't so hard, once he'd found that store where the tall men bought their high heels. The wig had been a special-order item, but he spared no expense.

But white linen pants were nearly impossible to find in his size.

He'd managed eventually.

Now he stood in front of the mirror, finally complete. He'd lost Jenny, he'd lost Jessica, but now he had himself.

Perfection.

Bwahahahahahahaah. This. OMG Mel. LOL. YES. Clearly this is the only acceptable solution.

Ahahahahahaha I CAN'T BREATHE.

omg Mel! I am not here - need to get some work done right now - but I had to take a minute to read this, and then to roll on the floor, and then to pick myself up and cackle some more. I love it!!!

What a nice way to start the day.

Yes, I have to agree this is the only solution there is. I can so picture it. And I want to see this on screen.

Dying. I actually just choked, I was lauhing so hard.

Oh dude, your brain!

YOUR BRAIN!

<333

Eigentlich sollte Maximilian es vermissen. Er betrachtete sich im Spiegel und richtete die vorwitzigen Locken, die ihm immer wieder ins Gesicht fallen wollten. Der Lippenstift war zu dunkel für seinen Geschmack, aber das Publikum liebte ihn so. Oder sie, lächelte er sein Spiegelbild hinreißend an. Er fuhr sich mit den falschen Nägeln über die langen Beine; eine Laufmasche konnte er nun wirklich nicht gebrauchen.

„Bist du so weit?“ Simone steckte den Kopf herein.

Nein, er vermisste das Zentrum nicht. Gleich würde er wieder seine traurigen Seemannslieder anstimmen. Die Nächte über Buenos Aires waren alles, was zählte. Und seine Mutter.

Haha, this makes me want to watch the episode when he sings that lullaby -NOT!
But I'd love to see him like you described it.

Hahahaahahah. Oh Max. Yes, You're so feminine, querida.

Und keine Laufmaschen, um Himmels Willen!

Also, Max/Simone OTP, YAAAAAY!

Haha, das will ich sehen! *googelt nach Karten*
Und verdammt, warum habe ich kein Maximilianicon?

He was going to kill those bastards. Fucking Mike. Fucking Ingo. Fucking Roman, the ice fucking princess. And fucking, motherfucking Deniz.

Bulle tried to breathe evenly as he pulled the tutu up his thighs, feeling the coarse material scratch on his hair through the thin tights. he'd been relieved to find the locker-room deserted, but he could sense the upcoming humiliation. He gritted his teeth. Someone would pay; he didn't care who.

Because this wasn't his fault. He wasn't some fag, like the Wild guy, who pranced around flaunting his perversions shamelessly.

It wasn't his fault that he was wearing this fucking hung. Because if it were his fault, his choice, then he'd have absolutely no excuse for liking it.

I will never not love Bulle in drag. NEVER. <3333333333333333333333333

Yeah. This is hilarious.

Come on, Bulle, you know you want to.

Oh this! God, that's good. Because yes, hilarious, and OF COURSE HE LIKES IT (bloody closet case), but it also made my chest go all tight because yeah, Ingo's awesome humiliation strategy is totally what could've pushed Bulle over the edge and made him decide for sure that he was going to fuck Roman up. Not that he probably wouldn't have if Ingo HADN'T done something, because people like Bulle don't work that way, and I did so love Ingo for doing this. But at the same time they're unquestionably tangled up in each other and I'm just babbling now, but gah, Giorgia. This made me feel things. *wibbles and clings*

I love you. And yes, poor Bulle! But bad Bulle. And bad Ingo. Maybe. Or not. IDK IT IS ALL SO CONFUSING.