#and a better contouring kit

[crtastrophic]

can i come over and stare at you like this

images that make my coworkers never ask me about my art projects ever again

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ your walking glam kit .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x gn!reader

⤿ Bakugou secretly carries your entire glam kit and handles every beauty emergency like it’s a battlefield mission.

there’s always that one guy who seems like he doesn’t care but somehow knows everything. yeah, bakugou is that guy—except he does it with the energy of a man who’d fight a god just to blend your contour better.

you once joked about forgetting your setting spray and this man deadass pulled out a travel-sized bottle like it was a weapon. from his cargo pants pocket. where was he keeping that? no idea. don’t ask. he sure doesn’t offer.

“what, you think i’d let you go on camera lookin’ like a powdered donut?”

rude. but also valid.

mascara smudging a little from laughing too hard? he’s already tapping the corner of your eye with a Q-tip he somehow had on him. like he’s been waiting for this. like he trained for this.

you try to mess with him sometimes.

“man, wish i had my brow pencil right now.”

without a beat, he grunts, “left inner pocket.”

you check. it’s there. sharpened. pristine. your shade.

how?

he doesn’t carry a bag. he doesn’t wear a bag. and yet—you once counted—he had four glosses, two mini palettes, a mini straightener, and a set of falsies on him.

“how are you carrying all this?” you whisper, suspicious.

he side-eyes you like you’re the weird one.

“don’t worry about it.”

he clicks your lash curler shut with precision.

and don’t even get started on the time you muttered, “i need a light for my tiktoks,” and he whipped out a foldable ring light from his hoodie pocket. he clipped it to your phone and said, “you’ve got 10 minutes. i’m timing you.”

if anyone asks, he’s “just prepared.”

but everyone knows—he’s got a sixth sense for your glam emergencies.

and he cares—a little too much for someone who grumbles every time you ask for help, then proceeds to give you a full 5-star beat.

you stopped carrying your own makeup bag after month two.

because now you just turn to your boyfriend and say,

“babe, you got the—”

“yeah. here.”

hand already outstretched.

© jxwl4k 2025

[netexyy]

🫐 Boys getting curious about makeup stuff

Lo'ak, neteyam, spider x reader

Pure fluff

Word count ~ 2.k

Summary - Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Spider being adorably nosy and chaotic while you do your makeup.

---

You sat on your bed inside the lab module, an array of palettes and brushes scattered on a blanket in front of you like a chaotic artist’s kit. A small round mirror leaned against a stack of books, reflecting your face as you carefully applied shimmer to the inner corners of your eyes. No reason. No party. No date. No mission. Just because you felt like it. And maybe because it helped you feel like yourself in a world where everything was alien, even your own reflection sometimes.

Outside, the sky was dimming into dusk, the forest humming quietly. You were deep into blending some rosy blush onto your cheeks when you heard the hatch open with a familiar hiss.

Lo’ak’s voice rang out first, as loud and unfiltered as ever.

“Yo! Y/N, what’re you doing?”

You didn’t even flinch. “Contouring my face so I can feel better about my life choices.”

There was a beat of silence.

Spider’s face appeared in the doorway next, eyes widening. “Wait… are you putting on makeup? Like... makeup makeup?”

You gave them a quick look before turning back to the mirror. “Yes, Spider. Like, makeup makeup. Mascara, blush, highlighter. Do you want me to list ingredients too?”

“Damn,” Lo’ak muttered, ducking through the doorframe to join you. “That’s a lotta tiny stuff. Why are there so many brushes?”

Neteyam was the last to walk in, graceful and quiet as always, ducking his head just a little more than the others to enter. He said nothing at first, but his eyes locked on your face with open curiosity. Then his ears twitched, and he tilted his head like a confused ikran pup.

Lo’ak dropped onto the floor dramatically, crossing his arms behind his head as he stared at your stuff. “Wait, is this like… battle paint? Or more like war against boredom?”

You laughed under your breath. “More like war against bad vibes.”

Spider plopped down next to you, peering into one of your makeup compacts. “This one looks like crushed rocks.”

“Highlighter,” you said, taking it back. “It makes your skin glow.”

Neteyam crouched beside Lo’ak and gave you a long, observant look. “You already glow,” he said, matter-of-fact.

You blinked, momentarily pausing with the brush halfway to your cheek. “Thanks, I guess?”

Lo’ak made a dramatic gagging noise. “Bro, stop. That was so corny.”

Neteyam shrugged, amused. “I’m just saying facts.”

Spider nodded like he was taking notes for science. “So you’re doing all this just for yourself? Not for a party? Or like, a hologram call to Earth?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Yes. For me. Sometimes girls just do makeup because they want to. No audience needed.”

Lo’ak reached for one of your lip glosses. “Can I try this? What is this, slime?”

You slapped his hand gently. “That’s lip gloss. And no, you cannot put it on like war paint.”

Neteyam leaned in slightly, genuinely intrigued. “What does it do?”

“It makes your lips shiny,” you said, swiping some on to demonstrate. “See?”

The boys all leaned forward at once, blinking.

“Shiny,” Lo’ak repeated slowly. “That’s it? Shiny lips?”

“Bro, humans are weird,” Spider mumbled, even though he was human himself.

You gave him a look. “Says the boy who eats Pandoran fruit straight from the tree and hasn’t washed his hair in like, four days.”

Spider held up a finger. “That’s called being resourceful.”

Lo’ak grabbed one of your eyeshadow palettes and opened it upside down, causing a small cascade of sparkly powder to fall onto the blanket.

You gasped. “Lo’ak!”

“Oops,” he said, but didn’t look sorry.

Neteyam shook his head, amused. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Exactly!” you pointed at Neteyam like he was a prophet.

Spider, now entirely invested, picked up one of your blush brushes and tapped it against his hand. “So what’s this one for?”

“Blush. Makes you look cute and alive. Not like a tired swamp creature.”

“I’m offended,” he muttered, but handed it to you. “Show me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You want blush?”

He nodded solemnly. “For science.”

Lo’ak snorted. “Oh, we’re doing this? Okay, okay. Y/N, give me shiny lips. Let me sparkle.”

You burst out laughing but obliged. “You asked for it.”

Soon, you had Spider with a subtle dusting of blush that actually made him look kind of endearing, and Lo’ak with a swipe of pink gloss on his bottom lip and some gold shimmer above his eyes. He kept puckering his lips and making kissy faces in the mirror.

“I am glamorous,” he declared dramatically. “No one talk to me unless it’s about fashion now.”

Neteyam sat back, arms crossed, watching it all unfold with that unreadable, faintly entertained expression of his. You caught him looking at you again as you added a soft wing to your eyeliner.

“What?” you asked.

He looked thoughtful. “You look… different.”

You smiled softly, this time really meeting his eyes. “In a good way or bad?”

Neteyam tilted his head again. “In a… Y/N way.”

Lo’ak made a retching noise again, but Spider elbowed him. “Dude, shut up. This is poetic.”

“Thank you,” Neteyam said, unbothered. Then, after a beat, “Can I try the… shiny powder?”

You blinked. “You? You want highlighter?”

He nodded once, serious.

Lo’ak made a big show of fainting. “He does have a soul!”

You reached for your favorite brush and gently applied a bit of champagne-colored shimmer to Neteyam’s cheekbones. His skin caught the light perfectly.

“Oh,” Spider said. “Oh, he’s glowing.”

“He’s always glowing,” you mumbled.

Neteyam gave you a look that said he’d definitely heard that. You coughed and focused on cleaning your brushes instead.

Lo’ak was still holding your lip gloss like it was sacred. “Wait, can we make this a thing? Like, makeup night?”

“Makeup night,” Spider echoed, nodding.

“I’m not doing this every day,” you warned.

“But it’s fun,” Neteyam said. “And… peaceful.”

You looked at him, surprised.

He gave a half-smile. “It feels like you. Like home.”

A warmth bloomed in your chest. You hadn’t realized until then how much you missed this—the casual normalcy of goofing off with friends, trying new things just because, sitting in a room where everyone made you feel safe just by being there.

“Fine,” you said finally. “But next time, we’re doing skincare masks too.”

Spider groaned. “What does that even mean?”

Lo’ak looked terrified. “You’re not putting goo on my face, are you?”

Neteyam just smiled quietly, his eyes never really leaving yours. “If it makes her smile, I’ll try it.”

And just like that, the room erupted in chaos again, Lo’ak trying to run, Spider shouting about cucumbers, and you laughing so hard you nearly dropped your mirror. The makeup was half-smeared, the brushes were out of order, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

Because this—this was better than perfect eyeliner or glitter lips. This was joy, unfiltered and bright, and you were glowing in the truest way possible.

---

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 9

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters

Boston air was different.

It was louder, colder, smelled like cigarette smoke and... gas? The streets buzzed with people who looked like they didn’t have time to breathe, and somehow it felt kind of perfect. You hadn’t said much the whole drive. Chris didn’t either. But when Nick announced—half-laughing, half-panicking—that the hotel had only two rooms booked instead of the three originally planned, something shifted.

“Not it,” Matt said immediately, arms crossed.

Chris gave him a side-eye. “Don’t act like you weren’t gonna snore all fucking night anyway.”

Matt scoffed. “I’m not rooming with you. Not after what you said about Madi.”

You looked at Nick, then Chris, then Matt. “It’s not a big deal, I can share with either of you—”

“No,” Matt cut in, awkward now. “I mean—no offense, but like… my girl’s not about me sleeping in a room with other girls.”

You nodded slowly. “Right.”

Nick looked between everyone. “Guess it’s you and Chris, Y/N.”

You gave a short, nonchalant shrug. “Fine with me.”

But when you got to the room and opened the door, it wasn’t fine.

One bed.

Just one.

You blinked, froze, stared. Chris walked in behind you like it was nothing, tossed his bag onto the floor, then looked at your face.

“What?” he asked, trying to hide his smirk.

You turned around slowly. “There’s one bed.”

“Damn. Hope you’re not a kicker.”

You frowned. “I’ll take the couch.”

“There is no couch,” he pointed out, pulling a blunt from his pocket and lighting it like it was the most casual thing in the world. “And sweetheart, I’ve literally had my tongue inside you. You think sharing a bed is gonna break you?”

Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “You’re disgusting.”

He blew smoke in your direction. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, dropped your bag by the wall, and ignored the fact your chest felt tight. “Whatever. I’ll sleep on the edge.”

Chris smirked. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

⸻

The shoot was chaos.

Lights flashing, people scrambling, stylists panicking. You were in your zone, though. Liner perfect, lipstick sharp, foundation blended like second skin. You were fixing up one of the models—tall, sculpted jawline, piercing eyes—who had definitely been flirting for the last ten minutes.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a smile.

You snorted. “That’s your opener?”

“I’ve got better ones,” he grinned, and you smirked, amused by the confidence.

You leaned in to adjust his jawline contour. “Mmm, maybe save it for a real date.”

“Is that your way of saying yes?”

Before you could answer, a voice cut in.

“Hey. Fuck off.”

You looked up to find Chris, standing behind the model with that familiar annoyed tilt to his head.

“She’s here to work.”

The model raised his brows. “Woah. I was just talking—”

Chris stepped forward. “And I’m just saying. Fuck off.”

You stared at him. Blinked once. Twice. Then turned slowly back to your kit.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you said, not looking at him.

Chris didn’t respond. Just scoffed and walked off, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t bother to catch.

⸻

Later, after everything was wrapped and people were winding down, you were packing up your brushes when you saw him.

Chris.

Outside by the loading dock, laughing with one of the models. Her. Tall, flirty smile, perfect bone structure.

You weren’t mad. You weren’t even surprised.

But the way he was looking at her? Yeah. It kind of stung.

You didn’t say anything. You just grabbed your stuff and started heading toward the hotel room, jaw tight. You felt footsteps behind you a block before he said anything.

The second the hotel door clicked shut behind you, you turned.

He was right there.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, voice low but sharp.

You raised a brow. “What was what?”

“With that guy. You were letting him feel you up with his eyes.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, you mean the same way you were eye-fucking "Barbie" outside?”

Chris stepped forward. “That’s different.”

You scoffed. “Right. Because you’re allowed to flirt but I’m not.”

He didn’t answer.

You shook your head, walking past him, tossing your stuff onto the desk. “Forget it.”

He moved fast.

Hand on your wrist, eyes burning into yours.

“Why’d it bother me so much?” he muttered. “Why’d it feel like I was about to punch that guy?”

You stared at him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

And then—

His hand was on your cheek.

And he kissed you.

Hard.

Like he was trying to drown in it.

Your breath caught, but you kissed back. Like it was the only thing tethering you to the ground.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was messy. Hungry. Fingernails digging into fabric. Breath caught in your throat. Chris walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and then you were falling into it, tangled in each other, still kissing like the world was on fire.

He didn’t break it.

Not until minutes later when something flickered in his eyes.

And suddenly he was pulling back.

Breathless.

Eyes wide.

“Shit,” he whispered, standing up. “Fuck. I—I shouldn’t’ve—fuck.”

“Chris—”

“I gotta go,” he said, grabbing his hoodie and bolting for the door.

He didn’t even look back.

And just like that, the room was silent.

And you were left staring at the ceiling.

Heart racing.

Wondering what the fuck just happened.

a/n: finally damn

taglist:

@courta13 @m4gz-png @lezleeferguson-120

@h3arts4nat @izzylovesmatt @sturnioliolo @hsemeria @sturniqloo

@venusbabysblog @chrisslut04 @crazy4weeed @chriscokewhore @chrisswaffles @urfavvvnyasee @sturnzluv @freshluvr @mattthemunchh @poolover123 @pleasantdelusionbear @carpentersturns @emosexyvirgin @emillionaireee @shamelessmilkshakefest @xoxochrissgf @sturniolodollx @joyfulheartwhispers @cutseylady @oopsiedaisydeer @steph1106

@laylaluvsu2000 @lvrsturniolo @chloe444 @yamommmasman @55sturn @whenlovesaround @luvs-booksss @vampyyluv @snowysosturn @moth-feeet @mx7ka @amb-3-r

[listofwhyyouloveher]

could you do the gang attempting to do female readers makeup for her?? 🫶🏻

Summary: The greaser attempt to do your makeup.

Warnings: none

Authors note: sorry that uploading has been spotty, I'm just in such a slump rnn but like what's new

PONYBOY would actually be pretty darn good at makeup. You would question where he got this cosmetic knowledge from but he says he's just got a steady hand and some artistic abilities. He actually eats down every time he does your eyeliner, you almost want to ask him to always do it for you. He's also down to let you try out products on him, as long as you guys aren't going anywhere. He likes feeling close to you and you doing his makeup gives him tingles.

JOHNNY would be OK at normal makeup things, but lip liner, eyeliner and mascara would be actual he'll with him because his hands are always shaking slightly. It's not like he's afraid it's just that he has really unsteady hands and isn't super artistic. He gets mascara and eyeliner everywhere so you end up layering and layering concealer under your eyes. He really likes doing it though, he sees why you do it so often because it's kind of fun seeing everything come together. He gets really happy if you actually wear the makeup he did out instead of wiping it off.

SODAPOP would usually watch his mom get dolled up when he was young, he's got some really sweet core memories about it. He'd prefer to just watch you do your makeup but he'd love to blend your foundation and stuff like that because he thinks beauty blenders are an absolute marvel. Him doing your makeup always ends in a bunch of giggles and a crazy new eyeliner and eyeshadow look. He's actually pretty artistic and can be really good, but he tries to make everything crazy.

STEVE is terrible at makeup, he knows what to do but he just can't figure out how to use each product. He tried to apply your foundation with your powder puff and you had to shriek to get him to not. You have to slowly walk him through everything, showing him what each thing does like a salesperson. He asks you to help him get better so he could do your makeup more often so you give him a couple of old products to practice with. Sodapop walks into work the next day with a full face done by Steve.

TWO BIT knows what he's doing somewhat. His sister has that kids makeup kit and he sees her apply her glittery eyeshadow everyday. He tries to help you but everything is a lot different than a kit, he smears your lip product all over his hands by accident because he thought it was one of those pot ones where you pick up the product with your fingers. He's also super clumsy, especially with the dark coloured things, like for example, he missed the tube of the mascara and ends up getting products along the side of it and on his fingers. The next day he brings his sisters makeup kit and does your glittery eyeshadow which he is much better at.

DARRY knows what to do, but he fumbles because he gets nervous. He dropped your blush onto his carpet and stained it. He felt super bad for wasting product and staining his rug but you promised it was fine and that after he did your makeup you could clean it together. He's actually very good at giving you a nice and put together look. The eyeshadow and lip colour he chose complimented your hair and eyes perfectly. Secretly, while he wasn't paying attention, you got some blush and patted it on his cheeks. He was immediately nostalgic because his mom used to do that and you brought back a core memory for him.

DALLAS is terrible at makeup. You'd think with the amount of girls he wooed he would know a thing or two but he's completely oblivious. He tried to put contour as your foundation before realizing it didn't match your face colour and then tried to use highlighter. After the first few times he actually became some what of a pro and started swiping high-end luxury cosmetics. Sometimes he also steals your contour to make himself look cooler and define his muscles and jawline.

[littlest-w01f]

Little Kits

Lucien x Reader

LUCIEN MASTERLIST

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Summary: You and Lucien find out they are expecting twins on your anniversary morning

CW: Fluff, soft smut in the start

Every morning was the same, and just as lovely as the past year for you and Lucien, staying in Day Court with his mother and biological father had been the most peaceful year the two of you had ever spent, so waking up in the comfort of his arms in a giant white and gold bed had soon become your favourite thing.

As the warm sunlight streamed through the grand windows of your lavish bedroom, illuminating the opulent furnishings and casting a golden glow over the scene, you snuggled deeper into Lucien's embrace, feeling utterly content and at peace. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against your chest, the steady beat of his heart, and the soothing sound of his breath whispering in your ear all combined to lull you into a state of profound relaxation.

Lucien, sensing your tranquillity, wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you closer still. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair, which always seemed to carry the essence of honey. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your forearm, sending shivers down your spine and causing your skin to prickle with delight.

"Morning, little fire," Lucien groaned waking up, his voice horse as he kissed down your shoulder.

You smiled softly, reveling in the warmth of his lips against your skin as they trailed down your shoulder. "Good morning, handsome," you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access. His kisses left a trail of fire in their wake, each one igniting a spark of desire within you.

As he reached the curve of your neck, he nipped gently, sending a thrill through your body. His hand slid beneath the covers, finding your breast and giving it a possessive squeeze. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"You're insatiable this morning," You teased, your voice husky with sleep and arousal.

Lucien chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. "Only for you, my love," he whispered, his hands exploring every inch of you. "Always only for you." Lucien groaned softly as you kissed his jaw as well, smiling. "Happy aniversary, my love,"

His words sent a flutter of excitement through your chest, and you returned his smile with a soft, loving gaze. "Happy anniversary Luce," You replied, kissing his jawline in response. Your lips moved lower, tracing the strong line of his throat before landing on his collarbone.

With practiced ease, you rolled out from under him, facing him. You studied his face, admiring the strong lines of his jaw and the determined set of his mouth. There was something about Lucien that made your heart flutter and your mind spin with desire. He was everything you'd ever wanted and more, and today marked another milestone in your journey together.

Your hands roamed freely across his chest, feeling the solid muscle underneath his skin. Each touch sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, fueling the growing heat between your legs.

Your hands roamed over his broad back, tracing the contours of his muscles. You could feel the hard planes of his body beneath your fingertips, and it only served to fuel the heat that was building between you. Each stroke of your fingers over his flesh seemed to awaken a part of him that was hungry for you.

"You spoil me," You said with a smile, before climbing atop him. Your body fit perfectly against his, your curves moulding to his firmness.

Lucien smiled, stroking your hair, "My mate is worth being spoiled." He sighed as you pushed him on his back.

As you settled on top of him, Lucien's strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. His hands splayed across your back, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as he pulled you impossibly tight against him. The hardness of his arousal pressed insistently against your core, making it clear that despite the early hour, his desire for you was very much alive.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that left no doubt about your own hunger for him. Your tongue danced with his, tasting the sweetness of his mouth and the faint tang of sleep. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent as the need to be joined with him grew overwhelming.

His words filled you with warmth, and you leaned down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. Your tongue tangled with his, exploring the depths of his mouth as if searching for hidden treasures. His taste was intoxicating, like the finest wine, and it fueled your desire even further.

Breaking away from the kiss, you trailed your lips down his chin, to his neck, and then lower, planting soft kisses along his collarbone. Your breasts brushed against his chest with each movement, creating a delicious friction that sent sparks shooting straight to your core.

Lucien's breathing grew ragged as you lavished attention on his neck and chest, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. A low growl rumbled in his throat, a primal sound that spoke of his need for you. His fingers dug into your flesh, urging you on as you continued your sensual exploration.

Your gaze drifted upward once more, taking in the breathtaking sight of Lucien's torso, his chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. His body begging for your touch, and you obliged without hesitation.

"My love... Please," Lucien moaned softly, holding you close to him. His hands lace your hair, pulling you closer.

Your moment was broken by a basket dropping beside you both on the bed. You turned to look at it, "Huh? What..."

Lucien sat up with you in his lap, looking curiously at the mysterious gift basket, to find a note from Eris. "Congratulations on your first litter of kits with Lucien, y/n." He read confused, showing it to you, the only other thing on the paper was the Autumn Crest.

You took the note from Lucien's hand, your brow furrowing in confusion as you reread the message. "A litter of kits?" You repeated, looking up at him with surprise. "Baby foxes, but... I mean, we've..." Your voice trailed off as the realization dawned on you. "We're not pregnant... How could he... When we ourselves...?"

Lucien's expression mirrored yours, a mix of shock and disbelief, looking at the fruits, sweets and chocolates that filled the basket. "By the Cauldron," He muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What kind of game is he playing now?"

In the silence that followed, you felt Lucien's heartbeat quicken under your hand. It matched the frantic pace of your own thoughts. "Do you think Eris knows something we don't?" You asked, turning to meet Lucien's gaze.

"We should probably get out of bed and ask my father..." Lucien sighed, pressing his face into your chest, lazily kissing the top of your breasts, not quite wanting to get out yes.

Slowly, you detangled yourself from Lucien's hold, sliding off his lap. With careful movements, you began to dress, pulling on your robe and tying it securely around your waist. The thought of having kids with Lucien brought a smile to your lips, but also a sense of nervousness.

The Day Court was bright as Helion sat with Abrielle, both of them talking and laughing, and watching them brought a smile to yours and Lucien's faces, they both deserved their newfound happiness too.

The sight of Helion and Abrielle chatting and laughing brought a warm feeling to your heart. They looked so content, so complete – just like how you hoped you and Lucien would look for centuries to come.

"Oh, my dear son, darling y/n," Abrielle got up from her seat to greet you both, giving both of you a kiss on your cheeks. She was brighter, happier and healthier being High Lady of Day than when she was Beron's wife, and it showed on her face and posture beautifully.

"Umm dad..." Lucien waved the note in his hand around, "y/n and I received this cryptic note from Eris."

Amusement reflected in Helion's eyes at the note, "Ahh, so he told you that you're expecting?"

You and Lucien were stunned, but Helion and Abriella had a soft and amused look on their faces, "What!?" You and your mate sputtered together.

"Well, as High Lords and Ladies, our senses are more heightened than others," Helion explains, "So no surprise Eris caught the change in y/n's scent when he visited yesterday, you're early in your pregnancy after all."

All you and Lucien could do was stare at them open-mouthed at the reveal. Helion's explanation made perfect sense, but it didn't lessen the shock you felt. "Early in my pregnancy?" You echoed, still trying to process the information. The thought of carrying Lucien's children within you was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You turned to Lucien, seeing the same mix of emotions reflected in his eyes. "I'm going to be a father," he murmured, his voice thick with awe and pride. The revelation filled him with an intense love for you and the child growing inside you.

The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and a wave of joy washed over you. To think that you'd soon be responsible for tiny versions of Lucien and yourself was almost too much to comprehend. But you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins at the prospect.

"You're going to be amazing parents," Abrielle assured you both, her voice warm with affection. She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, offering you a reassuring smile.

"Not to ruin the surprise, but there is definitely more than one in there," Helion spoke, sipping on his tea, then set it down at the look you and Lucien gave him, "What? Our y/n here is stinking up the room with her scent, how can I not tell?"

"Well, that certainly changes things," You said, a hint of awe in your voice. Helion's comment about your scent made you blush deeply, you hadn't really thought you were so exposed to a High Lord before, that even Eris had noticed the change in your hormones, and you shot a glance towards Lucien.

Lucien's eyes sparkled with excitement as he gazed at you, his hand reaching out to gently caress your abdomen. "More than one, you say? We're truly blessed," He whispered, his voice filled with reverence and adoration. "That means we'll have to cancel the wine for you later tonight, huh?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Despite the initial shock, you found yourself smiling at the idea of filling your home with laughter and energy. "It does, and we probably should." You agreed, a warmth spreading through your body.

Abrielle chuckled softly, her eyes shining with delight. "Well, it seems congratulations are in order for the whole family!" She exclaimed, embracing you both warmly. "And since Eris was the one who revealed this wonderful news, perhaps he deserves some credit - or blame, depending on how you look at it!"

"Please, Eris has always been a meddler. Especally with us." You rolled your eyes, sitting at the table with Lucien. Holding his hand underneath the table. Eris had been the one to push and pull every string to make sure you could end up together despite what Beron thought of you as just a palace worker. Despite what anyone said of him, he enjoyed matchmaking. "Only fair he's the one who told us."

As the four of you continued to discuss the implications of your impending parenthood, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and love for those surrounding you. From Lucien's gentle kisses to your shoulder, his talks of the day's plans, new ways to spend your anniversary together, Eris's meddling to Helion and Abrielle's unwavering support, you knew you wouldn't be facing this journey alone.

{General taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff}

[silencedrowns]

Full cosplay makeup list!

Since I had some questions after doing a makeup panel at CitrusCon, here is my FULL list of my personal non-character-specific cosplay makeup items, including what colors I use.

Warning: I am extremely pale and grey. Not all of these products have as wide a shade range as I wish they did. This is my own personal list only. Some of these would work great on a wide range of skin tones though! You might notice there’s tons of blushes and eyeshadow palettes here; that’s because I use different colors depending on the characters and their wig colors, but everything here is used for multiple characters.

I’ve linked to everything you can still buy online (since some of these were limited) and described the limited ones so you could get replacements. Yesstyle links are technically affiliate links? I don’t remember signing up for any affiliate code but the links have one so uhhh if you buy from there I might get some reward???

I’ve accumulated this kit over a long, long period of time so it’d be ridiculous to buy it all at once, but almost everything is under $30 and the vast majority is under $20. I love a bargain and I don’t have the cash to buy luxury makeup, no matter how much I might covet those Dior lip products at Sephora.

List and links go under the cut because this is REALLY LONG.

Base makeup

Elmer’s purple disappearing glue stick

Elf Power Grip primer

Canmake Mermaid Skin Gel

Tirtir Mask Fit Red Cushion in 10C Shell

The Saem Cover Perfection Triple Pot Concealer in 03 Correct Up Beige

KimChi Chic powder in Ivander

Club Suppin Powder (I use a limited variant lavender one purchased physically but here is a rose version you can get online)

Blush, contour, and highlight

Peripera V Shading in Grayish Cool

Canmake Shading Powder in 04 Ice Gray Brown

Rituel de Fille Intuition

Etude Lovely Cookie Blusher in PP052 Lavender Lemon Macaron

Etude Lovely Cookie Blusher in PK004 Peach Choux Wafers

Cheerflor Angel Embossed Blush in 1199

Cheerflor Angel Embossed Blush in 1196 (this is a blue color that is a full cheek highlighter. Do not buy this unless you’re extremely pale and either cool or grey.)

Canmake Cream Cheek in CL01 Clear Red Heart

LBCC Historical Apothecary 1745 French Powdered Rouge

Eyeshadow type stuff

Urban Decay Primer Potion

Blend Bunny Blends palette (this is my favorite rainbow palette ever! i can blend any eyebrow color or almost any weird character specific eyeshadow color from this palette)

ROM&ND Better Than Palette in Dusty Fog Garden (this is a must have if you’re light skinned and cool toned. the best nude palette. it even has a grey row useful for both contouring and for toning down too-bright colors!)

A Flortte palette that was limited edition 😭😭😭 but any of pink brown cool palette would work in its place. Think Urban Decay Naked 3 or ROM&ND Peony Nude Garden. This color scheme is currently very popular in K-Beauty and C-Beauty but not in the USA, so you’ll probably have to order online

Urban Decay Moondust in Space Cowboy that I got as a gift but you can easily get the same look and spend a lot less by buying…….

C-Beauty glitter singles. Mine were limited edition but I have literally never tried a C-Beauty glitter from Yesstyle that I didn’t like. You can’t go wrong here.

Too Cool For School Artclass Frottage Pencil (yes, seriously) in #11 Dew Beige

NYX Jumbo Eye Pencil in Milk

KimChi Chic Juicy Nine Palette in Mango Tango

Flower Knows Swan Ballet Six-Color Makeup Palette in Black Swan

Eyeliners

Rozo Cat Print Liner in A13 Tea Grey

Rozo liner in black and dark brown (currently unavailable and I’m replacing with more extra fine tip Chinese liner. I love extra-fine Chinese eyeliners. You don’t need to be great at drawing eyeliner when your eyeliner is already so thin!)

Merry Monde Super Twim in 03 Earl Grey Latte

Urban Decay 24/7 pencil in Perversion

Colourpop liquid white eyeliner (not happy with the performance of this and I want to replace it with not-Colourpop due to wizard collaborations but it’s the best I have found so far 😭)

Focallure Glittering Liquid Eyeshadow in S01 Gray Lily

A pencil the color of my skin meant for my waterline but idk what it is because the lettering rubbed off nearly instantly

Mascara

Heroine Make Long & Curl Super Waterproof (or advanced film) in Black

Assorted colors of Heroine Make Mascara that I’ve only seen at physical stores that carry Asian makeup (sorry!!) (find a dark grey mascara for white or silver hair characters though, it’s so worth)

Heroine Make Mascara Remover (this works in every mascara!!! get this if you hate mascara on your lashes at the end of the day. 11/10 this is an incredible product)

I don’t currently use it but I also really like Judydoll mascara

Fake lashes

Literally whatever I bought at the beauty section in my local Asian market or off Aliexpress. I’m cheap lol. Don’t buy lashes off Amazon because if the package doesn’t look fucked up, the company sends returned lashes back out as new. Yuck yuck no thank you. Do not want this.

Lips

A second (and marked so it goes nowhere near the eyes! Don’t let the same liquid item go on your eyes and lips!) Merry Monde Super Twim in Earl Grey Latte

A cheap black lip liner. Literally get one at the dollar store or Daiso or wherever and it’ll be fine.

Dolly Cosme Lip Base (beige) (only get this if you’re already proxy ordering from Classe)

Peripera Ink Velvet in 26 Well-made Nude (I need a better nude. This one sucks on me but it’s still the closest I’ve found.)

Lilybyred Glassy Layer Fixing Tint in 12 Muscat Shower

Lilybyred Glassy Layer Fixing Tint in 06 Rosy Rose

Lilybyred Smiley Lip Blending Stick in 06 Chuckle With Me

Flortte 2 in 1 Lip Pencil in 04 Bean Paste

Clear lip gloss

Literally just whatever lip balm I have around

Setting sprays I like

Urban Decay All Nighter

Ben Nye Final Seal

Other

ASSIST FACE COVER GLUE AS!!!!!!!!! BUY THIS ASAP IT IS MY FAVORITE COSPLAY SPECIFIC ITEM even if you have to do a group order to justify Assist shipping. You roll this on your face and then lightly stick the wig to it and the wig hair will stay in place. Perfect for face framing pieces or that one bang piece that needs to stay somewhere or lace front gluing for just a day. Comes off with a makeup wipe. You need this.

Banila Co Clean It Zero Cleansing Balm won’t spill in your bag but will delete cosplay makeup

Cheap sheet mask after you take off all your cosplay will help your skin feel less angry!

If you choose to use face tape, I like Classe’s best and Assist’s next-best

Eyebrows are typically drawn on with colors from my Blend Bunny palette, with shadow and highlight strokes done with my grey and white eyeliners. I also have some character specific items that aren’t on this list (weird lipstick colors lol) and I’m not fully happy with most of my options contour and lip color, so I’m actively looking for something I might like better. I often skip colored lip product in favor of clear products because I have extremely pigmented lips.

Also if you’re wondering why my kit is almost entirely Asian makeup… it’s because I’m extremely grey, which is an undertone America does not cater to, and also I’m cheap and C and K beauty are more affordable. I wish more of this stuff were more inclusive! seriously! but this isn’t a list of products and colors for everyone, it’s a list of what specifically works for me. (Canmake Clear Red Heart though. That’s one of the most inclusive blush colors I’ve ever seen. It’s nothing but red pigment suspended in clear. Even if you think you’re too pale for red blush or you think a Japanese blush would make you look ashy, you should try it! If I could only have one blush in a kit where I were doing makeup for the entire spectrum of human skin, I’d pick that.)

[v6quewrlds]

💞 + andrei iosivas + fluff

imagine comforting homesick andrei.

Andrei sighed heavily, the warm steam of the shower cascading down his broad shoulders as he stepped out of the steamy embrace. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded into the bathroom, where you were waiting for him with a gentle smile. You sat on the sink counter, your feet dangling over the edge, a shaving kit and an array of skincare products laid out neatly beside you.

You offered him a soft smile as he dried off, the concern in your eyes speaking volumes. "Better?" you asked, your voice a soothing melody amidst the quiet of the bathroom.

Andrei nodded, eyes downcast and heavy as he pulled a long-sleeved Princeton Track & Field shirt over his head. It was a memento from his college days, a simple reminder of the simpler times when the only thing he had to worry about was catching a football and keeping his grades up. You had noticed how uncharacteristically withdrawn he'd been the last few days, and you knew it was more than just a slump in the season. Andrei had mentioned he hadn't been home in over a year, and you could see the toll it was taking on him.

"Come on, let's get you pampered," you said, your voice as soothing as you could muster. You motioned for him to step between your legs, holding your arms open for a moment to allow him the chance to lean into you. When he did, you wrapped your arms around his waist and held him close, feeling the warmth of his skin and the solidness of his torso. For a brief moment, he leaned his head into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume mixing with your lotion. You felt his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh.

You picked up the shaving gel and spread it gently over his jawline, your fingertips tracing the contours of his face with care. He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. The scent of aloe filled the air, a sharp contrast to the deep notes of the shampoo that still lingered from his shower. You took the razor and began to shave him, taking care not to nick his skin.

"I know you're homesick," you said softly, your voice carrying over the sound of the running water as you rinsed the razor. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Andrei took a moment, his eyes still closed, before finally speaking. "It's just…everything's so different here," he began, his words thick with emotion. "Back home, we'd spend every weekend at the beach, bonfires with my friends, my brother…my parents." He swallowed hard. "They're getting older, you know?"

Your heart ached for him. You nodded, your grip on the razor steady despite the sudden heaviness in the air. "Yeah," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't want to miss out on those moments."

Andrei leaned into you, his eyes still closed. "Exactly," he murmured. "It's just…it's not just that. It's the food, the way the air smells, the way the ocean sounds."

You hummed softly, allowing him to continue. You knew that sometimes words weren't enough, that sometimes all someone needed was to be heard. You carefully shaved along the edge of his jaw, your touch feather-light.

"I love playing football, don't get me wrong," Andrei continued, his voice a little stronger now. "But sometimes, I just want to leave it all behind and go home to Hawaii. Just for a weekend, you know? Just to be present there with my family."

You nodded in understanding, your gaze lingering on his profile. Carefully, you rinsed the last of the shaving gel off his face, using a warm washcloth to wipe away any remaining traces. "I know you think it isn't worth it to fly out just for a weekend, but maybe you should?" you suggested, your voice gentle. "Even if it's just for a day or two, to recharge. I'm sure your family would love to see you."

He frowned, hesitating. "The season's so hectic, and the flights are crazy expensive."

You knew his schedule was tight, with games and practices eating up most of his week, and the cost of last-minute flights to Hawaii didn't help. But you also knew how much his family meant to him. You turned to reach for your toner, the cool liquid bringing a chill to his skin. "I'll check the prices for you," you said, your voice measured. "Maybe you could plan ahead for the end of the season?"

[catfern]

she will destroy you.

pairing: abby anderson x afab!reader

music: crack baby or bag of bones ( or anything from puberty 2 ) - mitski

word count: 3.3k (i'm exhausted)

summary: rumours are swirling, fighting their way through your front door. you hope to keep your work and private life separate, but your proximity with your boss threatens to catch up with you.

warnings: mean!toxic!abby, cheating, porn with a LOT of plot, swearing, tipsy sex, fingering, oral (r!receiving), zero ( i mean ZERO ) aftercare, angst-ish

an: a quick intermission from cowboy!ellie because LORD. i read one page from one book abt a butch teacher yearning for the headmaster's wife and suddenly I NEED AFFAIRS!! I NEED YEARNING!! I NEED SECRECY!! and who better to do that with than a rlly mean ceo!abby who has a PhD in fucking bitches.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Shit.”

A line of scarlet trickles onto the warm printer paper and settles. You drop your paperwork on an unknown desk and suck your finger, hissing through your teeth at the sting. Your phone buzzes impatiently in the back pocket of your work pants, and you fumble with your non-bleeding fingers to pull it out.

we’ll talk abt this when u get home

see u after ur party i guess

A shit fucking day.

You hall back to your desk, defeat slumping heavy on your shoulders. The Office makes an effort not to stare as you walk by, low whispers hot on your feet like coals in a firewalk. You pretend very poorly not to see the half-lidded, secretive looks shared between your old work friends by the water cooler. Water off a duck’s back, your mom used to say in a nonchalant way when you cried to her about mean girls at school. Not that you ever really knew what that meant.

You were never really thankful to be shut off from the rest of the cubicles, until now. A fortress of frosted glass and a heavy door, your desk was the secluded gateway to a place dreaded. Just you and The Boss, which you guess didn’t help the flying tongues of the old, bored fucks in accounting, but it kept people away. Away from you, with their knowing looks and unknowing laughs.

You huff, settling into your uncomfortable desk chair and digging out a small first aid kit your dad bought you when you first started. Pulling the seal off the small tin, you eye its contents. Disinfectant, thermometer, some loose aspirin and bandaids. You whine lightly as you wrap one tightly around your ring finger, feeling it throb and pulse, like a complaint. Get over yourself, you tell your body.

A sharp - ahem - breaks through your mumbling silence. She’s never sick, she never coughs. It’s a bodiless beckoning, a call into the wild, it’s the wordless agreement you have with her. You pick up your notebook, and the nearest working pen, and shuffle quickly through the open door into her office.

The opaque shades are drawn, the natural light greying and dying on the dark, decaying herringbone floor. 

Abby is bathed in the orange light of her desk lamp. With impeccable, almost effortless posture, she’s resting her forearms on her desk, one hand scratching notes into her diary, the other distractedly tapping on the leather top. You follow the shadows that the folds in her dress shirt create, your eyes falling on the contour of her body. 

You know she frequents a few gyms. You’re the one who schedules late night international calls around her evening runs, and her weights sessions, and her triweekly spin class. But now, the results of her efforts are on display, tightly wrapped in expensive cotton, perfectly tailored, down to the very last stitch, to her existence. You swallow an uncomfortable feeling when she deigns to meet your eye.

She looks you over in the way she always does, an uncaring, but judgemental once-over, like an army sergeant inspecting a uniform. she hones in on the bandaid,

“Workplace injury?”

Her voice has the warmth of a dying cigarette, rolling like well-spoken honey off her lips. You almost feel ashamed, your finger so offensive to her you could chop it off. You almost feel like you wouldn’t even mind. You start picking at the ends of the bandaid with your thumb.

“Paper cut.” Your voice is always so out of place here. An echo of something that does not belong. She nods her head, ever so slightly, as if she understood.

“Don’t think you can go claiming compensation for that.” It’s a joke you’re not allowed to laugh at. You smile lightly instead. It’s short-lived, “I need you to correct some seating arrangements for tonight.”

Yes, of course. No problem. In wordless agreement, Abby starts listing off adjustments, complaints and warnings from guests about not being seated next to their five ex-husbands, or their whining step-children, or ex-business partners fallen from grace. your pen fingers begin to ache as the whole process draws out.

“And I’m going to need you seated at my table, to keep track of my evening itinerary.”

Uncertainty quickly sows its seeds in your stomach. The unopened messages from your girlfriend burn their way through pocket, searing at your legs like a brand on cattle. Everyone knows, everyone will know. Every detail of your life will be laid bare, and you’ll be tried publicly and without mercy. Your bandaid begins to unravel as you rub anxiously at the glue underneath.

You need to do something, something to get things back under control.

“Actually,” You start, unsure. Abby meets your eye quickly, without hesitation, “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s quick, and condescending. Undercutting any sudden courage you may have had, she meets your eye and stares you down, pinning you under ice, almost imploring you to feel terrified. And then she looks away, busy packing away the seating chart, and you wonder if she even looked at you at all.

She stands, and you try to meet her, your hands clutching your notebook.

“Your attendance tonight is mandatory.” She says it slowly, harshly, like it’s hard for you to understand. Her eyes chase quickly over your outfit, “It’s a black tie event.”

You’re left alone in a dark office, hyperventilating.

The apartment is empty and cold when you arrive home. 7 unanswered texts to your girlfriend tell you she doesn’t want you near her, but she isn’t packed. You expect her to come home, hopefully in the hour you have before you have to go again, and you contemplate just blowing the gala off to wait.

Abby’s voice is sharp in your head, a familiar dedication wringing your body. You can’t leave her. She needs you there.

You put off the conversation with your girlfriend into the furthest parts of your mind, allowing yourself to be swallowed in the minor decisions of clothes and hair and accessories. It’s not until you’re throwing your shoes on, and three times you think you hear her keys in the door, that you give up.

The phone rings 5 times before going to voicemail.

Hey. Listen. I know we said we weren’t going to talk until we were face to face but..

Whatever Maria told you wasn’t true, okay? I promise-I fucking promise you, nothings happened. Baby, okay? People are fucking bored, and I love you, so so much. I’ve gotta go to this one thing tonight - i tried to get out of it i swear -, and i’ll come home and we can talk, and we can fix this. Okay? Jus-Just, gimme some time to explain. Okay. I love you. Bye.

Echoes of quiet chatter uncomfortably ebb and flow off the walls of the ballroom. Too many people. Shoes scuff the cheap marble as the rich make their rounds, with light touches and reused laughter. They all hate each other.

Abby is a familiar sight. Wearing the same thing she has all day, she looks staggering. Hands just breaching her suit pockets, comfortably falling at her side, her hair in a calculated braid, designed to make her look approachable. 

 The air here agrees with her, her smile wide and effortless. You know she’s come straight from a meeting, and you suppose that adds to her charm. The Working Woman, a success story. Her rich friends, who spend their inheritances on shares and indoor tennis courts, lap it up. She’s a foreign object, something unfamiliar and wild.

You don’t interrupt, skimming the sidelines to get to your table. You can feel her glance, without substance, before returning to her conversation. Your event planner ( a shitty flip notebook that fits in every small clutch you own ) sits on the tablecloth at your seat, and you wait. Eyeing the glasses at the placemats next you, you can tell a few drinks has been shared, raking your eyes over Abby’s looser disposition.

She’s happy, and charming. She’s been drinking bourbon. Mint, with ice and syrup, the way you serve it to her in her office, when the occasion calls for celebration. 

Her conversation finishes, her soft hands bidding gentle, kind goodbyes to the couple as they move on. She’s a friend to the people that matter.

“I expected you here before me.”

She doesn’t bother to look at you as she sits, instead fixing her napkin to her lap. You watch as the veins in her neck rise and fall as she talks, “Doesn’t matter now. Run me through everything.”

Right, fuck. You open your notebook and run your fingers over the scratchy writing. Your days leading up to this were spent copying details from obscure emails, tidbits you thought Abby needed to remember. Late nights at the office, life abandoned, deciphering biographies and 2 hour youtube deep dives. You can watch yourself fall asleep from the future, your handwriting slipping, long and longer strokes, spelling dissolving, long words abandoned. your pen fell to the floor, and you slept at your desk. Twenty missed calls. You argued when you came home in the morning.

“The Ambassador is arriving around 8:00pm with his new wife, also named Rebecca. Oh, Old Rebecca emailed asking why she didn’t receive an invitation.”

She’s slowly sipping at another whiskey, a different cocktail she ordered just as you’d arrived. The orange peel brushes her nose as she tilts the glass, her jaw tightens as she swallows, “Tell her the venue was at capacity. Send some flowers.”

It continues like this for a bit. Quiet and attentive, she listens to what you have to say, as her eyes follow the crowd. You too, spy people that you know, a few slimy execs that share a whisper and a boisterous laugh as they look your way. You order gin.

Soon enough, Abby checks her watch. An inexpensive, vintage piece of leather and quartz. She excuses herself with a measure of politeness. It’s time for an hour of speeches that don’t matter, before you’re finally allowed to eat. You sigh.

A quiet buzz rips through the growing silence. You open your clutch and hide your phone under the silk tablecloth, away from the disapproving elderly eyes.

i told u to leave me alone

jesus christ

A pit in your stomach. Dark, pressing, ever present. Your saliva is heavy in your mouth, and you feel like shrinking away. Luckily, the waiter isn’t far. Drinks are discounted for the company staff.

Finally, speeches finish. Abby looked nice on the stage, effervescent under the lights. Her hair catches warm light nicely in the strands.

The food comes, but people disregard it for shallow conversations. Plates are taken away full, apart from slim, polite pickings. Your table orders more drinks, and syrupy laughter echoes as anecdotes about private schools and hedge funds are shared. You don’t belong here. Your body becomes unsteady, restless. Your legs shaking, a hand finds you thigh in the veiled secrecy of the table cloth.

Abby’s not looking at you, too engaged in tipsy conversation to draw attention. A nice gesture, but it’s not. It’s wordless agreement. Her thumb traces the outside of your thigh mindlessly, her jaw clenching as she feels your gaze.

You hesitate.

What else did you have to do? Apart from go home and wait for an argument.

You let her touch you a little longer, soft, ghostly. It’s kind, unmistakably. You let yourself revel in it, in her uncommon affection, before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Abby follows not long after. She’s confident, her position charismatic, not unlike the other times she finds a drink, and then goes to find you. She doesn’t stop, so sure that you’ll follow her trail as you’ve done so often before. But you hesitate, again.

She turns back to you, a look on her face that’s hard to decipher. You stumble in your reasoning.

“It’s just-, my girlfrien-“

“Are you coming? Or not?”

Your palms itch, you swallow.

What kind of sick sacrifice. Unfair to have both, some would say, but some don’t know you. How wicked it is to taste both fruit and have to choose the sweeter. Fuck. The drinks settle in your stomach.

Your girlfriend wasn’t coming home tonight anyway, not really.

She’s leading you up the stairs, hands flush to her body. You grip the cold handrail to hold you steady. She’s already steps ahead, the appropriate distance. 

A quiet corner doesn’t need to be found. She’s been here before. You’ve been here before. The holy emptiness of the second floor is an accustomed comfort.

She’s quick and calculated, despite the mix of drinks on her breath. One hand pushing you to the wall, the other finding the zipper for your dress. It falls off you like it never belonged to you, kicked away and piled into a corner, forgotten.

Gripping you like you’d run away, she palms your tits and presses crescent moons into your hips. She holds her head away from you, watching you down her nose as you squirm. Abby has always remained detached, carefully groomed a distance between you that now feels too sacred to break. You long to feel her kiss you, to feel her intimately, to run your hands along her arms and feel every curve, every outline. You’ve needed to touch her since the moment you met her. Craved it.

Abby is disrespectful, impatient. She cups your pussy, still hidden in slick panties, letting the rough ball of her palm grind against your clit. It sets you on fire, and she chases it with a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Get rid of them.”

You strip fast, in a very unflattering way, you’re certain, and throw your underwear close to the ghost of your dress. She moves against you again, her hand softer as it wraps around your lips and cheeks. You look at her, hoping to see that softness echoed on her face, but her eyes are elsewhere, too focused on the movement your tits make as she holds you against the wall. 

Painstakingly, her fingers slide inside you, her hand pressing down on your mouth as you moan around the feeling of her, the intoxication. Your hands lock and unlock, your nails digging at scratching at the wood boards on the wall as you try to balance yourself.

Merciless. She rocks into you, letting you fall into step with her, find her pace, a relentless one. You feel her melting into your core, her fingers curling and stretching your walls as she pounds into you, again, again, again. You sound pathetic, behind the mask of her hand, whining as she leaves, and nearly screaming when she returns.

Abby watches as your face contorts around her fingers, feels you wrap around her. If she feels even a fraction of what she gives you, you wouldn't know. Her eyes remain unkind, left at a distance, but her breathing is staggered. short, laboured. she looks over you, you feel it, feel as her eyelashes rise as she rakes over your body.

You need it to be desire in her eyes. You need her to starve. To crave, like you do. Desperation.

Her hand moves from your mouth, your whimpering breath filling the room fast, the quiet broken. Her pace slows, and you almost rest on her fingers, left to wonder what she’s playing at. Instead, it comes down on your shoulder, still warm and wet with your breath, and she pushes you down onto her fingers, deep, deep. you feel her at the very centre of yourself, your eyes wide as the pressure builds inside you, her fingernails leaving a trail, evidence of her in your walls. She lets your ragged moans echo, hurt and pleasure. It’s an unkind end to things.

You don’t want to let it to end. You can’t.

The distance is broken. You reach out and grasp flesh, firm under your nails. You’re still riding the ecstasy pulse, the heat in your pussy, and Abby lets you stay, holding onto her as if you would fade otherwise. Your cheeks are almost touching, her breath hot on your ear, you hear her for the first time, raspy groans as you squeeze around her. She’s been holding back.

Damn it all.

“Everybody knows. Please. Please, fuck me like you know you should.”

You meet her gaze. Everything is foreign now. Her skin feels different to how you had imagined it. Softer. Her eyes are more uncertain, more than you’d ever seen before. Hesitance.

“Fuck it.”

Whiskey, and a sip of your gin, and tobacco. You didn’t even know she smoked, but you taste it on her like its the only thing she ever did. The smell of pine came in a wave as she moved, hooking her hands under your legs and hoisting you up. For months, you’ve yearned for her to kiss you, begged for it even. And now, her lips are rough, and bloody, and everywhere. Ghosts tracing your neck, unkind, stinging, exhilarating. 

She moves you to the floor without fuss, holding herself over you, your legs spread around her. She’s smiling, and you become so sure that there’s something not quite right with this side of Abby. You’re quickly aware that you’ve landed in hostile territory, vulnerable, needy.

She usually didn’t like it when you begged.

Her tongue is like the rapture on your clit, spitting fire through your veins, in your nerves. You feel it creep up in your body, twisting and tightening through you like something invasive, moans and prayers dripping from your lips that only push her. her name a curse, fallen on your body. You feel her laugh against your slick walls and it jolts you.

Abby, suddenly so aware of you, so kind, so attentive, shifts her posture, “Oh, you’re so needy.” A hand grabs your face, pulling it up from the floor in a dead lull. Her name rolls off your pretty lips once more, “What? You beg for me, and now you can’t take me?” Her tone is mocking, “Which is it? Hm?”

A cacophony. You, you, you. Your head foggy, unsure of what she wants to hear, you beg for again, telling her you can it take it. I can, please, abby.

Her laugh is cruel, mocking as her mouth finds you again, sending cold vibrations up your legs. Slut echoes against your clit.

Inside of you, she feels like a god. Her fingers stretching your walls, pressing deep against your centre at an excruciating pace, and her tongue lazily laps up all that you give her. 

“Fuck! Fu-uck, fuck!”

It’s clear to Abby that the caution she so carefully designed was useless now. People knew, and fuck it if they knew. Fuck it if they heard you dripping on her fingers, calling out her name. Fuck it if they stop the music, and turn to listen - fucking perverts - because it’s her. And you’re the one begging for her.

Stars creep in through the haze in your vision, and Abby’s trying to ask you something harsh, but you don’t hear it. You’re tethered to the feeling of her fingers, your whole body knotting around her like a planet in orbit of the sun. 

You’d burn if she wanted you to, happily.

You’re so fucking tight around her fingers, your legs shaking and a vicious call ripping through your body. Her Name.

The warmth from your body is too much, and the cool of the floor is lulling, soothing, as you collapse. Abby’s fingers leave you empty, incomplete. You whine as she leaves you, your walls tightening around the absence of her. She wipes your cotton slick on your leg.

She stands, and rolls her shoulders. Fixes the few hairs that fall out of place. Guiltless.

“Get dressed, before someone sees you.”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

this is so deranged and depraved but andrei and one of those dick mold kits 👀

the idea is yours after andrei catches you using a vibrator that in his mind doesn’t measure up to the size of his cock

he fucks you deep into the mattress, muttering how his cock is the only one that can make you feel good, can make you cum, the only thing big enough to make you satisfied

after you’re in a totally fucked out state, andrei reminds you that he’s off on a two week road trip, leaving in a few days, and he trails his fingers over your still sweaty skin saying, “don’t even think about using that silly little toy while i’m gone. want you dripping for my cock when i’m home”

the next morning, when your orgasm haze is a distant memory, you realize what you agreed to. two weeks, no orgasms? no chance.

if andrei thinks only his cock is good enough for you, an evil little thought occurs to you.

you place the order and thanks to amazon prime, you’ve got your hot little hands on the kit two days later

andrei’s playing video games with neci, headset on and shouting into the microphone, when you dance into the den, kit hidden behind your back

he looks at your briefly before flicking his gaze back to the screen, clocking your mischievous expression and worrying just slightly about it

you wait patiently for him to die in the game, shifting your weight on the balls of your feet, bursting with excitement until andrei finally puts the controller down and lets the headset rest around his neck

“what has you like a…a…” he waves his hand in the air, looking for the expression. “jumping bean? cat that ate the canary? energizer bunny?” you supply options. “jumping bean works,” andrei huffs, furrowing his brow at the strange expression

“so you know how you said i’m not allowed to use my vibrator while you’re gone?”

“a silly piece of plastic isn’t going to make you as satisfied as i do, solnyshka”

“okay but what if the piece of plastic was as big as you are? contoured just like you, with that amazing vein on the underside?”

andrei looks at you like you’re crazy and then when you show him the kit, his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and he shakes his head. “what is that?”

“it’s a kit, we mix up this gel stuff and then you stick, you know, your dick into it to make an impression and then i can pour silicone in there and tah dah! my very own piece of you while you’re on the road”

andrei’s deadpan. “no”

you wheedle and whine and complain that two weeks with only using your fingers to get yourself off is cruel and unusual punishment and at least he has his fist to fuck

andrei sighs and takes the box from you, studying it. you can see him considering it and you change tack, “obviously it wouldn’t be as good as your cock, not as hard and i love it when you cum in me, but it’s going to be better than my silly little vibrator. and! when you’re back you can fuck me with it too or i’ll suck on it while you fuck me…”

it’s that mental image that seems to send andrei over the edge on his decision. he nods, a little twinkle forming in his eyes. “okay, we’ll do it. but i get to be the one to use it on you first, yes?”

you’ll agree to anything so your head bobbles on a nod and you take the kit back, already skipping off to the kitchen to mix up the ingredients for the mold

andrei leans back on the couch, legs spread wide, lazily palming his cock while he watches you work. he’s more than half hard by the time you finish and he grins at you, “come finish the job, solnyshka. long way to go before i’m ready for that kit”

you leave the kit on the counter and practically dance over to the couch, settling yourself on your knees in front of the couch, andrei’s legs bracketing your body. you eye him hungrily, “i don’t think i’ll have to do too much work,” you grin

andrei shrugs, leaning back and draping his arms over the back of the couch. he gestures at his cock with one hand, “get your hands on me”

you don’t have to be told twice, leaning up on your knees so you can reach for the waistband of his basketball shorts. you pull them down, tapping his thighs so he’ll lift his ass off the couch so the pants will come down. his cock springs free from its confines and you snicker a little at the realization that he was going commando “were you hoping to get lucky later, mr. svechnikov?”

“didn’t have to wait until later, did i?” he asks, hissing when you brush your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock

you hum thoughtfully before licking your palm and wrapping your hand around his shaft

andrei’s hips buck off the couch and he groans at your touch, you keep stroking him until he’s as hard as you know he’s going to get, the head of his cock angry and red and leaking

for good measure, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, enjoying the way he groans your name and tangles his hand in your hair. you pull your head back and press a little kiss to his slit, making andrei moan deep in the back of his throat. “stay still,” you grin wickedly up at him

“i’m going to come in that silly gel,” andrei grunts, fingers gripping the couch cushions

“you can’t, not until it’s set and i have my toy,” you grab the tube and after a little gymnastics and a lot of giggling, andrei’s hard cock is in the tube, the gel leaking out all around the sides and over your hands while you hold it in place

he complains about the temperature and the sensation but you climb onto the couch and distract him with your mouth on his while it sets

after you take him out, he grimaces and rubs his hand over his cock to get the feeling of the gel off, bringing himself close again

this time you take pity on him and wrap your hand around his base and your lips around his head

andrei finishes in your mouth with a grunt of your name and he slumps back into the couch, spent

“thank you for your service,” you giggle hoarsely, dancing off into the kitchen to pour the silicone into the mold

later, when the toy is ready (a perfect replica of andrei’s cock, right down the the veins) he’s true to his word, using it to fuck you to a wet and fast orgasm

“god, wish it were hotter,” you whine around his fingers, stuffed in your mouth, “not the same”

it feels good, so much better than your other toys, but it doesn’t throb inside of you like andrei’s cock

“good,” he growls, “nothing but my cock for my solnyshka”

he ends up having you suck on the toy while he fucks into you hard and fast with the real thing

stuffing you from both ends and seeing you run your tongue over the replica of him, makes andrei see stars when he comes inside of you

definitely loves to get the videos and pictures of you using the toy when he’s on the road but always makes sure to remind you that nothing feels as good as his cock

[elxxor]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐣𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✧𝑶𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌. 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒂 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔. 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

The sound of the front door clicking open pulled you gently from your literary escape. A gust of wind, carrying the scent of rain and Virgil, accompanied his entrance.

"Hey, love," he called out, his voice weary but warm.

"Hey you," you responded, placing your book on the coffee table. "Tough day?"

He shrugged, a weary smile playing on his lips. "You know how it is. Long travel, intense practice. Just glad to be home."

He dropped his kit bag with a soft thud and came over to the sofa, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'm going to hop in the shower. I stink of sweat and disappointment after that training."

"Sounds like a plan," you chuckled, playfully pinching your nose. "Don't be too long. I'm making your favourite carbonara for dinner."

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. "That's the best news I've heard all day. Ten minutes, tops."

You settled back into your book, the rain outside intensifying its gentle lullaby. You knew how much these quiet evenings meant to Virgil. Being in the public eye, constantly surrounded by cameras and clamoring fans, could be draining.

Here, he could just be Virgil, your Virgil, and that was enough.

The minutes ticked by, accompanied by the soothing sound of running water from the bathroom. You were just getting to a crucial plot point in your novel when you heard the bathroom door open.

Virgil emerged, a cloud of steam trailing behind him. His hair was still damp, slicked back from his forehead, and droplets of water clung to his sculpted chest.

He was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, the drawstring pulled low, and your breath caught in your throat. He was undeniably handsome.

He made his way over to the sofa, a towel draped around his neck. "Right, where were we?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You couldn't help but smile. "I think I was just getting comfortable," you teased.

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. He settled down next to you, pulling you close until your head rested on his shoulder. The warmth of his skin radiated through his damp hair, and the clean scent of soap mixed with his natural musk filled your senses.

"Better?" he murmured, nuzzling your hair.

"Much," you sighed contentedly. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing soothe you. The rain continued its gentle drumming, and you felt utterly at peace.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, you shifted slightly, wanting to get a better angle to see something in your book.

As you moved, your fingers brushed against his chest. You absently traced the contours of his muscles, enjoying the feel of his warm skin.

Then your fingertips met something different. Something raised, and textured.

You frowned, pulling back slightly to get a better look. The light in the living room was dim, but your eyes adjusted quickly. You leaned forward, your heart beginning to pound in your chest.

There, on the left side of his chest, just above his heart, was a new tattoo.

It was intricately detailed, a beautiful rendition of your name, written in elegant cursive, intertwined with a depiction of your eyes, rendered in stunning detail. They were your eyes, the exact shade of hazel with flecks of gold that always seemed to catch the sunlight.

You gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. "Virgil… what is this?"

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of concern and anticipation. "Do you…do you like it?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding hesitant.

You were speechless. You reached out again, your fingers gently tracing the lines of your name, the curve of your eyelashes in the tattoo. The artistry was incredible, but it was the sentiment behind it that took your breath away.

"Like it?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "Virgil, I… I love it."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You couldn't believe he had done this.

He’d etched your name and eyes, a part of you, permanently onto his skin, right next to his heart. It was the most beautiful, most heartfelt gesture anyone had ever made for you.

He let out a relieved sigh, relaxing back into the sofa. "I wanted to do something… permanent," he explained, his voice low and sincere.

"Something that showed you how much you mean to me. Being away so much, with the games and the training, it feels like I'm always missing out on time with you. This... this is a reminder. A reminder that you're always with me, no matter where I am.”

He reached up and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.

"I know it's just a tattoo," he continued, "but I wanted you to know that you're always on my mind. You're my anchor, my home. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The tears were flowing freely now, but they were tears of pure joy. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

"I love you so much," you sobbed, your voice muffled. "So, so much."

He held you tight, his strong arms wrapped securely around you. "I love you too, schatje," he whispered into your hair. "More than words can say."

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain drumming a gentle rhythm outside. Finally, you pulled back slightly, needing to see his face.

"When did you get it?" you asked, your voice still shaky.

He shrugged sheepishly. "Yesterday. We had a free afternoon before travelling. I snuck away. It was a tough sitting, but totally worth it." He grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs tracing the curve of his cheekbones. "You're incredible," you said, your voice full of love. "Absolutely incredible."

You leaned in and kissed him, a long, slow, tender kiss that spoke volumes of your love and appreciation.

He responded with equal passion, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you knew that something had shifted between you.

Your love had always been strong, but this gesture, this permanent declaration of his feelings, had deepened it in a way you never thought possible.

The aroma of the carbonara you had been preparing earlier wafted into the living room, a gentle reminder of the present. You pulled away from him reluctantly.

"I should probably go finish dinner," you said, smiling.

He grinned. "Only if I can help," he said, standing up and extending his hand.

You took his hand, and together you walked into the kitchen, hand in hand, your hearts full of love. The rain outside had stopped, and a sliver of moon peeked through the clouds, casting a soft, ethereal glow on everything it touched.

It was a perfect ending to a perfect evening, made all the more special by the permanent reminder of your love etched on his heart.

You knew this was a moment you would cherish forever, a testament to the depth and beauty of the love you shared.

And you knew, with unwavering certainty, that you would spend the rest of your life loving this man, Virgil van Dijk, the man who had given you his heart, literally.

The carbonara was a symphony of creamy sauce, perfectly cooked pasta, and salty pancetta, a culinary masterpiece born from love and appreciation.

As you and Virgil ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and shared jokes. You recounted funny anecdotes from your day at the office, and he told you about a particularly challenging drill he’d been working on with his teammates.

After dinner, you cleared the table together, the comfortable silence punctuated by the clinking of dishes. You loaded the dishwasher, and Virgil stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder, humming softly.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, leaning back into his embrace.

“Just how lucky I am,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck. “To have you, to have this… this peace.”

You turned in his arms, looking up into his eyes. “I’m the lucky one,” you said, your voice sincere. “You bring so much joy and light into my life.”

He kissed you softly, a gentle promise held in the touch of his lips. “How about we watch a movie?” he suggested. “Something completely mindless and relaxing.”

You agreed, and soon you were both curled up on the sofa again, a fluffy blanket draped over your legs. You chose a cheesy rom-com, something that required minimal brainpower.

As the movie played, your eyes kept drifting back to Virgil. He was so handsome, so kind, so utterly perfect.

As the credits rolled, you snuggled closer to him, feeling drowsy. “Thank you,” you whispered, “for everything.”

He smiled, gently stroking your hair. “Anytime, love. Anytime.”

You knew you were falling asleep, lulled by the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart.

Just before you drifted off completely, you felt him carefully lift your shirt slightly. You stirred, but didn't open your eyes, trusting his touch implicitly.

He gently, almost reverently, brushed his fingertips over the tattoo on his chest, the one that bore your name and eyes. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a tangible symbol of his love for you.

Then, he whispered, so softly you almost thought you’d imagined it, “Goodnight, my love. You’re always with me.”

And with that, you fell asleep, your dreams filled with images of his smiling face, the drumming rain replaced by the steady beat of his heart – your heart, too. You were home. You were loved. And you were finally, completely, at peace.

✧.・。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・。.✧

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭😊

[theshypinkflower]

I'm having a Derek brainstorm in these days, him but with someone that body worships his. I want to trace his back tattoo and caress all over, he is so gorgeous that I can't get enough of looking at his art

-V.

Curves and Contours 🦂🧨

General NSFW, mentions of abuse, hand jobs, kinda angst?, mostly smutty fluff tho (sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy it!!!)

The door opened with a creak as Derek threw his blazer and his shirt to the side, probably landing on the floor somewhere. Derek plopped onto his bed, sighing and slightly whimpering from the pain in his back. That fucking geezer thinks he can just shove him around??? Like hell he could!!! Despite how it was very much the truth. It was worse than last time, like there was a constant stinging sensation. He didn't want to take care of it right now, he just wanted to close his eyes. Close his eyes and dream of something better. Dream of that old fuck buckling over and finally choking to death or something.

Derek was so lost in his thought he didn't realize his pet had rolled over. It wasn't until you said something that he realized you were awake. “Derek,” you said with a soft gentle voice, “are you okay?” You asked. Derek's brow twitched in annoyance, he hated that false pity you'd try to show him. He believed it was all fake, mockery even. Even though you had been here for months, he didn't want to believe that in that time it was possible for you to truly “love” him.

“I'm fine,” he grunted, rolling over on his side so as to not face you. Your hands reached out to touch, which caused him to suck in air through his teeth. Your hands brushed against some of his open wounds, causing the pain to get worse. It sent a jolt through his body that only made the stinging sensation more noticeable. “Hey! Watch it…” he grumbled. He just watched to sleep, even if he hadn't properly changed into pajamas. He didn't care about being comfortable, just cared about suppressing everything.

You were quiet for a minute. “Derek…did he…” you said, your sentence unfinished. Derek knew what you were talking about. You knew what he went through. Did it make this whole situation better? No, but it did make you sympathize with him.

“No,” he responded defensively, “and even if he did I don't need your sympathy.” Even that wasn't true. Tears had welled up in his eyes as he recalled one more being mercilessly beaten. He couldn't even scream or beg his dad to stop. It'd just make things worse. Deep down, he wished someone would hug him while he sobbed about his dad. He had vented about him with you occasionally, getting close to tearing up, but never full on crying.

The room was quiet. He figured you had finally gone back to sleep. That is until the weight of the bed shifted. He listened carefully to your footsteps against the floor, the room partially illuminated as you went to his personal bathroom. Perhaps you needed to piss or whatever. That's not his problem. He closed his eyes, listening for whenever you'd walk back to bed.

You eventually did come back, now with something in hand. “Sit up,” you said. It wasn't a question, but more of a command. A soft command.

“Why should I?” Derek asked, his eyes still closed.

“Because I have something for you,” you said. You sat back down on the bed and turned on the bedside lamp in his room. Derek audibly sighed before sitting up in bed, still not facing you. He wasn't gonna turn unless you asked him.

He expected you to ask him to face you, or perhaps sit on the edge of the bed with him and give him “gift” or whatever. Instead, he felt the cool wet sensation of a washcloth on his back. He quickly stood up, touching where the cloth was and snapped, “What are you doing?!”

You stared blankly at him, “What's it look like?” You asked as if it was obvious. Derek studied what you were holding a first aid kit and a washcloth.

“Look I don't need your charity-”

“I'm not asking you.”

Derek was stunned by that immediate response. He furrowed his brows before sitting back down, his back to you. “Don't make it worse…” he grumbled as the cloth was pressed against his back once more.

With gentle circles, you scrubbed the blood off his back. It was honestly rather soothing. The cool sensation of water mixed with the gentle exfoliation of the washcloth. Kinda like a weird massage. The gesture was rather nice. A bit too nice.

“Alright, what is it you want from me? Another outfit?” He asked, with a smirk you couldn't see.

“I don't want anything,” you said as you opened the plastic box and grabbed band-aids. “I just want to help,” you responded. You tried tending to him as best as you could, given the supplies of the first aid kit. Certainly not the first time he had to use this thing. You gently pressed the band-aids on his skin, it'd at least protect it for a bit.

“Thank you,” Derek said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. He feels pretty stupid for feeling all warm. Like his guts were betraying him, and his heart was about to leap out his mouth. “You're not so bad, I guess,” he said with a shrug, trying to play it cool.

You hummed in response, “Mhhhh you're welcome.” Your hands rubbed over his back, in a sort of hypnotic way that caused him to relax and hunch over. His tattoo was so alluring. The black ink somehow made each curvature of his back more defined and noticeable. It just…suited him. The silence between you too for once wasn't so heavy, it was for once peaceful.

Derek had closed his eyes again, he could fall asleep like this. However, his eyes shot open as he felt soft lips pressed against his skin. He was about to turn around and shake you off him, but he honestly liked it. So instead of reacting like normally, he just sat there. He felt like he was melting into the sensation of each kiss planted on his band-aids.

Kissing each and every wound on his back was something he never experienced, but it was awfully nice. Paired with rubbing circles on his hips, he felt like he was in heaven. It was odd admiring someone's back so intensely, but when has humanity not admired a certain feature of the human body? Hands, eyes, smiles, it was only expected to closely examine and admire each flaw and curve.

It was like running your hands over a sculpture. Not in the sense of physique, but in the sense of smoothness and the dimples the skin would make. The kind of dimples that an artist spends years perfecting. Skin was an odd thing. Enough form and structure like marble, but still the softness and malleability of clay.

Derek was surprised at the feeling of arms wrapped around his waist, and a head resting against him. “What are you doing?” He asked. Now he was genuinely curious why you were being so…affectionate. No one had ever been so willingly tender and gentle with him. It was…weird.

“Nothing,” you mindlessly responded. What, you weren't allowed to hug? “You're really handsome, you know that?” You asked. As if this man didn't brag about how much of a smoke show he was. The thing is, it's different boasting about being hot, and being called handsome. Especially because Derek only was a pompous asshole as a front. A front for his own insecurities.

“I…no. I guess not,” Derek softly admitted. This vulnerability was foreign. Foreign and almost too much for him, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it. Just for tonight…

Without a second thought, your hands lowered down to his belt. “Okay, now this can't be nothing,” Derek said as you slowly began undoing it from behind. He felt stupid for blushing, but it's the way his body was responding.

“Mmmm just relax,” you hummed while unzipping his fly. It wasn't long before your hand slipped behind the band of his boxers. Everything was so soft and gentle, he normally would have puked from something so sappy. His skin was warm to the touch, almost like a heated blanket.

The tips of your finger traced along his length, which was soft. Not like it'd be difficult to get him hard. Even from the grazes from your fingers, you could feel him stiffening. It was easy to get the blood pumping. As it began to harden, you gently took it out from his boxers. You stroked while it was still partially erect, giving it a sort of gentle loving it never experienced.

Derek let out soft moans as you stroked him, nothing like angel hands to help you out. He couldn't help but watch as you stroked him, slow and sweet like you two were a couple or something. His tip was already leaking, poor thing. Derek must've needed this. Your finger gently tapped at his slick tip, a string of precum connecting the pad of your index finger to his tip. It was erotic sight no doubt.

The slow strokes were such a tease for Derek. He tried keeping his composure, so as to not look desperate, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help as his hips began bucking against your hand. Soft moans escaped his lips. Soft, needy moans. He was much more vocal than usual. Your hand just felt so good, better than usual. It could just be he was tired, or maybe because he was experiencing true intimacy.

Tears welled up in Derek's eyes, it was hard for him to gauge what exactly he was crying from. Was it because it felt so damn good? Was it because he was so sad tonight? He couldn't figure it out. Probably a mixture of both if he had to guess, but he didnt care. He just knew he didn't want you to stop. You removed your hand for a moment which caused him to whine, but it was just to spit on your hand.

Soon enough your palm was once more wrapped around him, this time your saliva acting like lube. You jerked him faster this time, lewd sounds of slick skin were heard between his moans. Derek gripped the edge of the bed, enough to turn his knuckles white. His moans got even louder, the knot of ecstasy forming in his stomach. His hips were desperately fucking against your hand, like he was some dog in heat.

Tears spilled from his eyes as he felt his orgasm approach so quickly. He whined so loudly, pressing against you and bucking into your hand as he finally came. White ropes eagerly coated your hand with an impressive height to them. Derek felt like his brain was melting as he rutted against your hand. As he came down from his high with heavy pants and ragged breaths, he couldn't help but feel so…what's the word? Smitten.

As you removed your cum coated hand, he turned to face you with a tear-streaked face, which he hoped you wouldn't notice in the light. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, hugging you tightly as if you were going to escape. As you opened your mouth to say something he quickly cut you off, “Not. Another. Word.” He said. He didn't want to discuss his emotional state. He didn't need that sort of sappy shit in his life.

But cuddling with you in bed while you rubbed your hands over his back? Yeah, that he did need.

[toadallytickles]

do you have any tips for looking more androgynous/masculine for someone afab? 💕

(Did I send in this question?)

I have been wondering this myself for so long lmao, but lately I feel like I figured it out!

I also think it’s important to say that you do androgyny and masculinity the way you want to, the way that makes you feel most comfortable! It does not have to be society’s definitions of them.

Thrift pieces you like and want to experiment with! I love thrifting.. I live at Value Village.. I think thrifting is fantastic for exploring and experimenting with many choices of clothes for cheap! And you can exchange them if you don’t like them! I like to browse in the Men’s section for masculine shirts and pants. I only browse the small sizes, and I’m careful with medium sizes because I’ve made the mistake in the past of buying too big, and it’ll be a piece I love but does not fit me well.

I actually love Pinterest~. It’s so helpful to compile all your inspirations onto one board, and when you click a post, it shows you similar posts, and unf it’s so helpful for finding variety of the same idea. I have a board titled “Style” and it’s style inspiration for myself. It also acts as a list of clothes to seek and thrift. If I’m struggling to figure out an outfit for a munch or play party, I scroll through it for ideas!

TikTok. I don’t use TikTok but a lot of re-uploads are on Pinterest, and there are some really helpful tutorials for makeup, contouring, and styling that have helped me!

Contouring. I actually love makeup, still kind of an amateur but I’m super interested in learning how to do it better! A past play partner has gifted me a contouring kit [Mac - Studio Fix Sculpt and Shape Contour Palette] to help me present more masculine. Still learning how to use it, though I like to define my cheek hollows, under the eyebrows, nose bridge, and jawline.

Working out, building muscle. Clay says I look super masculine from behind with my back and shoulder muscles~ ᕙ(ò ω ó)ᕗ✧

Wear a binder. If you want! Make sure you bind safely! I do own a binder, I haven’t worn it in years though. I prefer sports bras or nipple pasties, sometimes I can get away with bare depending on the shirt fabric.

Masculine hairstyle! Putting this one last because it shouldn’t be a priority to make drastic changes to yourself (unless you want to). I do have short hair and an undercut; it is purposely cut and shaven masculine! Longer hair can be masculine too!

@august_skyz is goals… they also do a fem and masc makeup tutorial!

[adhdnursegoat]

Zero Year

cw: injuries, blood, heavy petting, lap sitting, erections

word count: 1.2k

Edward Nygma is seated on the edge of his bed, his face a canvas of bruises and cuts from a recent altercation. His usual sharp and confident demeanor is replaced by a rare vulnerability, marked by a gash across the bridge of his nose and a noticeable slice above his eyebrow. There is some not so great mottled, pink swelling along his cheek and orbit that will turn a garish purple in the next few days.

You move with deliberate calmness, your hands steady as you approach him with a small kit of medical supplies. With a tender touch, you remove his bloodied mask, untying the bandana ends with careful fingers before letting it fall to the bed. You pause, your gaze soft as you brush a stray lock of ginger hair from his forehead. His eyes, usually so calculating and piercing, are now heavy with a sour expression tainted by pain, fatigue, and loss. You trace the contours of his face with gentle assessment, noting every injury. His nose, bloodied and bruised, is particularly delicate, and there seems to be a slice above his eyebrow.

You frown, poking out your lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “My poor baby. You look terrible,” you coo, your voice dripping with both sympathy and playful mockery.

Edward glares at you, his irritation evident in the crease of his brow, though his expression is softened by the swelling around his eye. “Terrible, huh?” he parrots, his voice thick, nasally from his injuries, and the words tinged with annoyance.

But you don’t bite back. Instead, your fingers gently trail along the uninjured side of his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw before resting under his chin. You grasp it tenderly, your touch soft and soothing. “You’re still the prettiest though,” you murmur, voice low and affectionate.

At your touch, Edward straightens up, his wounded pride visibly fading as playfulness and satisfaction lights up his eyes. He puffs out his chest, and though he tries to appear nonchalant, he clearly relishes your compliment. “Well, that’s good to know.” His lips curl into a wider grin. “Though, I suspect you’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“Maybe I am…” you chuckle softly, unable to resist the warmth that spreads through your chest at the sight of his smile.

You turn your focus to the gauze in your hand, wetting it with saline before carefully dabbing at the cut above his eye. His face twitches at the tenderness of your touch, a soft hiss escaping him. For a moment, neither of you speak. You simply focus on cleaning his wound, but your gaze lingers on him, appreciating the handsome lines of his face despite the bruises, swelling, and cuts. There's something about the vulnerability of this situation that pulls you in, his sharp edges dulled just enough for you to see the man beneath all the annoying bravado.

You catch his verdant gaze, pausing in your task to hold his eyes for a beat longer, allowing yourself a quiet moment to drink in how handsome he still is. Bruised, broken, and bleeding—he's still yours. You smile, a soft, knowing grin that flashes your teeth and makes Edward's lips twitch upward in response, a rare, unguarded moment of sweetness from him.

“You should really get some rest after this, Eddie,” you suggest, your tone teasing but underpinned with real concern.

“Rest?” Edward’s smirk returns, his hands sliding from his sides to your hips, gripping you with playful firmness. The way his fingers curl into your waist makes your breath catch slightly, the touch more intimate than the situation probably calls for. He pulls you closer, his voice low and teasing despite the stuffy sound of his busted nose. “How can I rest when you’re here?” His voice dips, the faintest hint of a muffled purr in his words. “I’d much rather stay awake and enjoy your company—your entertainment.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his persistence, but there’s an undeniable flutter in your stomach as his fingers dig into your hips, drawing you even closer. With a small laugh, you shift forward, allowing yourself to settle into his lap, feeling the solid warmth of his body beneath you. His hands tighten their hold, making it clear that he has no intention of letting you slip away easily.

“And what makes you think I’m going to entertain you?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. You tenderly dab the blood from his nose, both of you wincing as he hisses.

“I’d say you’re entertaining me right now.” Edward’s gaze never wavers, his smile widening as you straddle his thighs.  His hands slide down your hips, pushing back to grip your ass and pull you deeper into his lap, fingers pressing in firm. A low hum of satisfaction snakes past his lips as he watches you, eyes darkened with that familiar spark of mischief.

You arch an eyebrow, feeling his grip tighten, his fingers kneading the curves of your backside. “Oh, is this your idea of enjoying my company?” you quip, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden rush of heat pooling deep in your core.

Edward’s lips curl into a smirk, his eyes lazily drifting from your face to your cleavage. “Mmm, something like that,” he purrs, his voice dripping with cocky satisfaction.

You work in silence for a moment, concentrating on placing the steri-strips on the cut above his brow. Edward's eyes are fixed on you, a cocky gleam sparkling in the depths of his gaze as you lean in. His hands roam freely over your hips, fingers gripping and caressing, pressing you down into his lap. You feel the hard length of him beneath you, unmistakable and growing, and it has your panties soaking wet.

“There we go,” you murmur, smoothing the final strip into place. You can sense his anticipation building, the tension tightening with every touch. “Now…” You move slowly, teasingly, leaning forward just a breath shy of his lips as you roll your hips, intentionally teases him. With a groan, his hands tug you forward, trying to coax you into a kiss, but you pull back just before he catches your lips.  ”...you really need to rest.”

Edward’s green eyes flash with frustration. He hisses through his teeth, his lips curling into a frustrated grin, making his swollen cheek ache. "Oh, now you're just being cruel," he mutters. "You're supposed to be my nurse, not my tormentor."

"Is that so?" you reply, sliding out of his lap and relishing the disappointed look on his face. His erection strains against his pants, a tantalizing testament to the effect you have on him. "Maybe I enjoy tormenting you," you tease, your eyes sparkling with mischief as his gaze narrows, hunger and frustration dancing in his eyes.

You let the tension simmer, savoring his reaction. Then, with deliberate slowness, you sink to your knees between his spread legs. His breath catches, eyes widening and filling with anticipation as you reach for his belt. “But,” you purr, fingers deftly working the buckle open, “I suppose I’ll be your angel of mercy tonight… Maybe you’ll find it easier to rest with a clear head.”

“Oh?” he exhales, his voice thick with need and darkened with desire. A sly grin spreads across his lips as he leans back on his elbows, his eyes locked on your hands. “Now we’re talking.” As you slide his belt free and your fingers graze the button of his pants, he gives a low, appreciative groan, clearly relishing the tease. “Please… Ensure I make a full recovery.”

[vukae]

♡‧₊˚ Makeup brands for a Neapolitan ice cream look! ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Disclaimer: They are brands from different countries, so they can be difficult to get, since it is mostly Asian makeup

1-. Canmake

Canmake is a Chinese brand that is quite popular in its home country for its affordable prices and incredible quality. They have beautiful and feminine designs, full of precious details, despite the low price. I recommend buying on their official website or on Yesstyle

Below are some lovely products you might like!

Silky loose moist powder ♡

A translucent powder that leaves a beautiful effect on the skin. Not only does it come in pink shades, but this lovely shade is recommended for healthy, smooth skin.

Nose Shadow Maker ♡

If you like to contour your nose, you will love this small but adorable kit! It has beautiful and perfect shades for an ideal nose and face contour.

Poreless Airy Base ♡

A cheap but good makeup primer, perfect for porous or uneven skin. It leaves a delicious and fresh feeling on the skin, like a Neapolitan ice cream!

Powder Cheeks ♡

Not only is it a beautiful design, but it also has beautiful, buildable pigmentation for a natural, gorgeous flush!

Metalook Mascara ♡

If you want a brown mascara for a lovely and natural look, this is your mascara! It also has a cute and natural design, and will leave your lashes looking like a dream.

2-. Too faced

This brand may not be cheap, but the quality is amazing and totally worth it. The packaging is beautiful and has a variety of shades ideal for different skin tones. I recommend buying at Sephora.

Below are some lovely products you might like!

Better Than Chocolate Eye Shadow Palette ♡

A literally chocolatey palette ideal for both natural looks and something more daring! It is an excellent option if you are looking for a versatile palette.

Born This Way Soft Blur Flexible Finish Setting Powder ♡

It's perfect for soft, delicate skin, plus it helps control oiliness and is non-comedogenic, vegan and cruelty-free! (remember, pretty girls are pretty inside and out). It comes in various shades, ideal if you have dark skin.

Born This Way Flawless Coverage Natural Finish Foundation ♡

A medium to high coverage foundation perfect for porcelain skin and making it look like you're wearing a filter in real life. It has an incredible range of shades, as well as being moisturizing despite its covering effect on the skin.

Natural Chocolate Bronzer ♡

A bronzer that looks like cocoa powder! It has a delicious chocolate scent and forms a second skin, which is ideal if you want a natural bronzer effect.

Better Than Sex Volumizing Mascara ♡

One of the most viral mascaras on the Internet for its gorgeous lengthening and volumizing effect. If you have any doubts about its wonderful effect, I recommend buying the mini version! It also has a version in chocolate tone.

3-. Flower Knows

A brand of Chinese origin that has been on the market for years, but went viral for its beautiful maximalist packaging with a tendency towards antique-style designs. If you want to feel like a princess, this brand is perfect! I recommend buying the products on Aliexpress, since they are more expensive on their website (I clarify that they are not copies, they are originals, I bought them)

Below are some lovely products you might like!

Chocolate Wonder-Shop Highlighter & Contour ♡

A gorgeous contour palette with beautiful, delicate detailing and a light chocolate scent. It's more like a cool contour than a warm one.

Chocolate Wonder-Shop Eight-Color Eyeshadow Palette ♡

This gorgeous palette comes in 3 different shades, for both simple looks and more colorful and bright looks. It has beautiful details in the shadows and is almost a shame to use!

Chocolate Wonder-Shop Mascara ♡

It comes in different shades, leaves your lashes long and perfect, and doesn't clump or anything like that. I have this gorgeous mascara, and it's one of my favorites!

Chocolate Wonder-Shop Cloud Lip Cream ♡

If you want matte and delicate lips, this is your ideal product. It is perfect for creamy lips without being dry or cracked. It is available in 9 shades. It leaves a beautiful sensation on the lips.

4-. Chantilly

A Japanese brand that you probably don't know by name, but if you spend a lot of time on Pinterest you've probably seen some of their beautiful packaging!

Below are some lovely products you might like!

Sweets Sweets Premium Gateau Shading ♡

I don't think I need to explain why this gorgeous palette looks like a candy box! It's compact and perfect for travel, and has an absolutely adorable design.

Sweets Sweets Eye Bag Plumper ♡

If you want big, beautiful eyes, this compact and perfect palette is for you. It has everything you need to create an adorable and appetizing look.

Sweets Sweets Premium Chocolat Shading ♡

This is so adorable! This has that 2000's popsicle look with a chocolate girl twist. No further comments.

That's all, bye bye!

[stevethefishdotnet]

Argo Nauts 1:72 Y-Wing sofubi build update August 7th, 2024

I had posted a scan of this kit's box a few months ago. This is a sofubi (soft vinyl) kit with some brass, pewter, and resin pieces. The main body is vinyl, the disk ventrals at the tail ends of the nacelles are resin, the nacelle beams are brass, and the guns and landing gears are pewter (I think).

This picture above is a quick dry fit of what it looks like so far. I didn't tape the pieces together or anything, but just quickly assembled it for this picture. I later realized that I had hastily attached the nacelles upside-down. I just threw this quickly together to take a photo.

The kit does not come with any decals, so I gave it my own, unique paint scheme. This is a Blue Squadron Y-Wing and I am happy with the stripes I fashioned on my own with masking tape. I painted the vinyl parts with V-Color paints, which are made specifically for painting sofubi kits and toys. This paint is great because when applied properly to vinyl, you cannot scratch it off. It's extremely durable and flexible paint.

I first mixed Light Gray in with Black to make my own German Gray color which I used as an undercoat. I splotched Mr. Masking Neo in areas with a sponge for paint chipping, then went over it with Light Gray. I used Blue and Pastel Blue for the trim, and Orange Yellow to have one panel be a replacement. For the non-sofubi parts, I used Mr. Color 325 (JASDF Gray, IIRC) which is a good match for the V-Color Light Gray. The engine cans were painted a mixture of V-Color Gloss Black and Silver, resulting in a nice gunmetal color.

I later decided to not go with the pastel blue trim for the nacelle tips and re-masked and re-painted them with the matching medium blue I'd used on the cockpit fuselage, which you can see in the photo below. It was a bit tricky, but I also added a small ring of Flesh 1 color on the sensor domes. V-Color has its own clear Smoke color. I made sure to use the Smoke to stain the area around the proton torpedo launchers on the underside. After applying that and a clear gloss top coat, I applied a wash. You cannot use enamel paints on vinyl since they do not react well to each other. Instead I used some Turner Acryl Goache paints, some black with a bit of gray mixed in. Turner paints can be found at any stationery store here in Japan and elementary students use these paints for their classroom art projects. (The jibungous Tsutaya mega bookstore in Maebashi has a great hobby section that has a wide selection of these paints as well as artist oils, pastel chalks, and plenty of other hobby supplies.) I thinned it with Mr. Hobby's Weathering Paint Goache Solvent. (I don't know what "goache" means because I forget... Go look it up if you care.) This is made for making a wash out of acrylic paints. Simple water or acrylic thinner can cause the paint to dry in splotches, but this solvent is made to help the paint run into contours and stay still instead of spreading into splotches.

There is no flat clear V-Color paint, so I had to create my own with Clear and Flat Base and tested it out on some spare vinyl until it looked right. I think maybe it might be a bit too flat, but I'm alright. After this flat coat, the blue looks considerably subdued and blends in better with the light gray.

The photo above is just another sloppy dry fit. Thus, it doesn't look straight. So far I have only glued the nose cannons to the cockpit pod, the sensor array domes to the nacelle tips, the engine cans and the exhaust shrouds that cover them to the engine pods, and I have glued the disk vectrals to the support pylons at the ends of the nacelles. I have yet to secure these beams to the engine pods, which are also not glued to the engine pylons. Nor have I glued the fuselage, cockpit, canopy, and such.

To quote Han Solo, "Here's where the fun begins." While this kit provides brass rods for the support pylons, you have to provide your own wires for the piping and bend them all into shape. If I don't get this part right, the model won't look good. So, I am a bit nervous. I am using Wave's C-Line brass rods. Since I have seen some Y-Wing builds in which the pipes were painted a metallic color, I think I might just leave mine unpainted. A viewer on YouTube suggested to me to paint the wires a metallic color for scale, but I think it looks fine as it is. What do you think? They look a bit too shiny since the fluorescent light is shining directly onto them in this picture. I will apply a wash on the brass rods and I was thinking that I will hand-brush Mr. Metal Primer since it is clear and the enamel or whatever should stick to it better after that. Maybe I'll use that Games Workshop Nuln Oil as a wash over the pipes. The pipes should add the bonus value of acting like pins to keep the pieces together. 

So far, my only complaint is the cockpit canopy. It was difficult to cut out the windows and I think it really should have been molded in resin. The Astromech was painted V-Color Gloss Black and masked off. I will paint its trim with Mr. Hobby Aqueous Gloss White. I also need to paint the cockpit instrumentation with various colors too.

I'm really enjoying this build and as a result I'm getting back into the three Nadia sofubi kits by Tsukuda that have been languishing for years as shelf queens. I've made good progress with those and I will post an update on those soon. I've also begun working on a Deedlit sofubi kit by Kaiyodo.