#and good ole glitter gel pens

[d00dl3-b0b]

Paint Marker Test 💕💕

[truefandemonium]

Welp I’m back and so is Bill

Please enjoy the drabble <3

a mind ensnared pt.2

a billstill ficlet

(inspired by the AU by @jellynut)

TW: self harm

…

It hurt like hell. And Stanley knew hell.

Hell was the lifetime he spent wishing he hadn’t hurt Ford. The lifetime he wasted running from the family he should have made amends with.

The lifetime he could no longer recall most of.

Ford was easing him back into reconnecting with his past— both of theirs. He shared stories they’d experienced as kids in Jersey… the good times they’d shared in high school… moments in between where they didn’t hate each other’s guts.

But it hurt.

Stan pressed his palms against his eyes with a low groan. “I’m sicka this.”

“Stanley, we can stop,” Ford said calmly. “This is for you, remember.”

“Remember. Right,” Stan scoffed. His attitude had plummeted in the last half hour since his headache had grown from a dull ache to a sharp throbbing in his right temple.

Ford rolled his eyes, shutting the scrapbook and shoving it back into the small shelf inside the interior of the boat. The name of the author was scrawled in glitter gel pen on the inside: MABLE PINES. “We can revisit it later,” Ford said, keeping his tone level.

Stan hated him for always being reasonable and kind despite his own short temper. Who gave him the right to be so forgiving?

Sure as blue skies wasn’t me! If anything, I helped him find his fiery side— Ol’ Fordsy never would have hurt you before I came along…

Ford never hurt me. This was never his fault, no matter how much I want to believe it was. Stan shifted to look at his feet, hiding his gaze. He didn’t know if Ford could see it; the way his eyes changed when Bill spoke. Maybe no one could see it… but Stan felt it. It clawed at the back of his brain like long tendrils of flame, licking until they could reach the glassy surface of his eyes, where they’d stare out.

Oh really?

Stan could practically see that damned Triangle grinning now.

Remember this?

Fire. This time, not just behind his eyes. It ate away at the flesh of his back, just at his wing, where the deep burn scar remained. Lately, Stan would run his fingers over the grooves in his flesh, as if he could pry the memory out of his skin, desperate to recall the moment in which he gained the scar.

But now he didn’t need anything to evoke it. It all came back like a tidal wave, floodgates opened and ready to drown him in the deep waters of his own mind.

Stan pushed himself up from the table, his chair clattering to the floor behind him as he reeled. The pain made him dizzy, and Ford’s brow furrowed deep as he looked up at him in concern.

“Alright, Stanley?”

“Headache,” Stan barked.

So worried for you. How sweet. Brotherly love is such a wonderful thing, isn’t it? Why don’t you go ahead and ask Sixer about that scar, Mystery Man?

Flashes of memory threatened to knock Stan to the floor. The deep pain of the burn on his back. The cold of the earth as he fell to his side in agony. A distant cry of, “Stanley… I’m so sorry…”

But why? Why had Ford burned him? Why had they been fighting at all?

ASK HIM.

“Stanley, are you sure you’re alright?” Ford stood, his chair creaking as he pushed it back and stepped around the table toward his brother. “You look—”

“I’m fine!” Stan snapped, grabbing Ford’s collar and holding him at arm’s length to stop him from getting closer. Stan looked up and glared into the soft eyes staring back, his grip tightening.

You’ll never know if you don’t ASK.

“I don’t need to,” Stan whispered, the words falling from his lips against his will.

Ford’s eyes flashed fearfully. “What?”

Panic suddenly gripped Stanley— the man shoved his brother back and growled, “I said I don’t need you. This stupid memory thing isn’t helping me— and neither are you.”

“Stanley, you don’t need to—” Ford lifted his hand and Stan stepped back again.

“Just leave it alone! Leave me alone, and stop trying to help,” Stan ground out, clenching his fists at his sides and pivoting to leave the underbelly of the ship.

Ford yelled something else as Stan left, but he didn’t turn around. The screaming inside his head was too loud to think— to breathe.

On a fishing boat in the middle of the ocean, there weren't exactly many places to isolate oneself. Still, Stan managed to find solace in the crow’s nest. Cold wind buffeted his hair as he tried and failed to catch his breath, chest hammering as Bill raked at the inside of Stan’s skull.

YOU IDIOT

NOW YOU’LL NEVER KNOW WHY FORD GAVE YOU THAT SCAR— YOU’LL NEVER REMEMBER WHAT YOU SAID TO HIM TO MAKE HIM SNAP—

“Shut up, shut up,” Stan seethed, his hands coming up to frame his head, closing his eyes. “I don’t want to know, you stupid triangle. I don’t want to remember…” Stan shook his head, voice dissolving into a whimper. “I don’t want to remember him at all.”

It was the thing that was killing him; the memory of how he’d betrayed Ford at every turn, destroyed his chance at happiness. And Bill wouldn’t stop reminding him of all of it.

“I just wanna forget everything,” Stan hissed into the wind, the breeze taking his words and tossing them to the sea. “Just for a minute…”

For the first time in a long time, there was silence. And then,

I can make that happen.

All at once, Stan felt his body heat. Not the fiery pain of the past, but a gentle warmth like the rays of the sun beating down on him. He opened his eyes and inhaled a sharp, small gasp.

He was sitting in the crow’s nest of the original Stan ���O’ War on Glass Shard Beach, the hot summer sun baking the wooden boat as it sat on the shore. Stan stood cautiously, raking his eyes over his surroundings.

He was looking for something. Some one. Yet he couldn’t manage to remember who. The memory felt blurry in his mind, like a permanent marker had been scrawled across the image— the thick, choking fumes of the ink making Stan’s vision cloudy and head swim.

And yet he welcomed it. The sensation of not remembering… it was as peaceful as it was oddly painful.

But something was tugging him— calling him. Stan pushed off from the wooden nest and crawled down the rickety wooden slats that served as steps to the main deck, then jumped down to reach the shore.

Normally a leap like that would knock him to his knees— and it almost did— but the pain in his joints seemed to have vanished. He felt like… like a kid again.

A sudden breath of excited air filled Stanley’s lungs as he straightened and examined the terrain. Sure enough, everything was as it was in his childhood. Every stone, every tree— every glass shard.

Except the presence of that unknown entity clawing at the inside of Stan’s mind.

As he wandered the beach, Stan’s anxiety grew, soon overwhelming the joy he’d felt at being back home. Until he saw it.

Saw him.

A faceless figure he knew so well. Part of him knew, anyway.

No name would lend itself to Stan as he raced forward, one hand extended into the air in greeting.

The faceless man sat placidly on a near broken down swing set, rocking forward and back in gentle motions.

Stan’s heart pounded as he got a good look at his face. Or rather, the emptiness that was there. His hands, too— his whole body seemed to flicker with obscuring yellow light. Light that shone so brightly Stan had to back up several steps.

But then it dimmed, and somehow, that was so much worse.

Before Stan stood a stranger. A stranger he’d grown up with, a stranger he loved. A stranger who had done so much for him and he did nothing in return.

“Hey, uh—” Stan started, his eyes trying to focus on the ever changing clawed out space that the man should reside in. “Who are you? This place is— this is Jersey, isn’t it?”

The stranger turned, his face a shroud of scribbled yellow that flickered with his movement.

Then, a sharp, loud, incessant static began to pour from him. No words, just agitated sounds in a garbled mess.

The sounds welled until Stan couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his hands over his ears and cried, “I’m looking for—”

And then he stopped. Because… who was he looking for? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember.

You wanted to forget. A grinning, gleaming flash of yellow appeared beside Stan. The single eye of the floating angular shape glinted with malice. So now he’s gone. Enjoy the spotlight, Stanley.

No, no, no no no no. Who did he forget? Who had Bill taken from him? And just when he was starting to remember—

But remember what? Even now, the memories were starting to fade. The image of the beach around him started to feel fuzzy in Stan’s mind. Everything but the glimmering shards of sun soaked glass that protruded from every corner of the beach.

The pain in Stan’s head, too, was beginning to grow. The aching that came with trying to uncover lost memories, the splintering sensation as the static noise penetrated his skull.

The sadness he felt when he looked into the space of the stranger’s face where his eyes should be.

The sound of glass shattering seemed to break him. Scrambling through the warm sand below his feet, Stan searched until he frantically pulled a shard of sharpened glass from the dirt.

Without hesitation, he lunged for the stranger, pressing the glass hard against his obscured throat. Stan felt the soft, kind hands of this unseeable man land on his shoulders. Confused. Comforting.

“Who are you?” Stan wailed. “I’m looking for someone! I— I can’t do this without him…”

Heaving for air, breath coming in short bursts as his heart hammered in his chest, Stan bleakly lifted the glass to his face and peered at it, retreating from the stranger.

Back then, he had terrible eyesight. He just never told anyone. He didn’t get glasses until he was in his late thirties and even then he hardly wore them. He didn’t feel like he deserved them. But his— someone— had loaned their own to Stanley. As a child, he borrowed someone’s glasses. Someone he looked up to and treasured and—

Fuck, the pain of forgetting was too much. It was like fire burning down the carefully crafted buildings inside his head. And the smoke was filling up his skull.

Maybe he could relieve the pressure. Clear the smoke and put the fire out.

Remember.

Ever so carefully, Stan placed the point of the glass shard against his right temple, and pressed. The pain was nothing compared to the sounds of agony his own brain was creating in this moment. The glass pierced his skin, drawing dark blood as Stan dragged the edge from his temple toward his eye.

Maybe he’d see better with just one eye.

STANLEY.

A horrible sound rang out. A mix of Bill’s voice and… someone else. As the rest of Jersey fell away, only the figure of the stranger remained: grabbing Stan’s shoulders and shaking him hard.

All at once, Stan’s eyes flew open. He was huddled on the floor of the ship, down below, one eye filling rapidly with blood from the long slice along the side of his head. Hand planted on the ground before him as he gasped and dropped the glass from his other.

“Stanley!”

That voice. Stan spun his body, revelling in the feeling of a familiar six fingered grasp on his shoulders.

And his own face staring back at him. For the first time in a long time, Stanley couldn’t get the words out. Until finally, “Stanford.”

Ford grabbed his brother and yanked him into a tight hug, his breathing frantic and horrified. “Stanley— oh for God’s sake, Stanley— I thought you were— it was like he had— but your eyes— oh thank goodness—” Ford’s rambling soothed Stanley.

His brother. He’d been looking for his brother all this time. And Bill had taken him.

Stan pulled away from the hug and slammed his fists into his brother’s chest, startling him into a sharp gasp. “Stanley, what are you—” he started, wondering and fearful.

The memories came back, finally, finally. The fight. That terrible moment when everything changed.

“You left me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to be us forever.”

And then the ever present searing pain in the flesh of Stanley’s right shoulder. Ford didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it.

But he’d left him. And now he was back.

Stan rasped out, “Don’t ever leave me.”

“You ruined my life.”

Ford’s brows knitted over his eyes. “Stanley, you’re my brother,” he said gently. “We’re in this together.”

“You ruined your own life.”

“Forever,” Stan wheezed. Even through the dripping blood, and slowly darkening vision, Ford’s face was so clear now.

And Stan decided he would take the pain of remembering over the hell of forgetting. Always.

Forever.

[giggly-squiggily]

Doodle Boy (Blue Lock)

AND BOOM! We've got ourselves some good ol' Bachisagi! :D I was talking to a dear friend of mine (you know who you are :D) and the next thing I knew- here we are! It's not exactly how we discussed it (honestly it's been so long since we really talked about it I forgot what the original idea was) but I'm proud of it and I think you're gonna like it too!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13 @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @riisada

Summary: Bachira has a knack for drawing and doodles away in his notebook. For all his talent in drawing the people around him however- he can never quite capture his boyfriend.

Bachira grew up surrounded by paint.

The smell of acrylics. The faded stains on his mom’s fingers and clothes when she finished up for the day. The endless paintings of monsters and fields alike she created in her studio. Growing up, he loved sitting by as his mom worked, leaning on his soccer ball with wide eyed wonder.

“You know, Meguru. I have extra supplies- why don’t you join me?” She invited him once, warmth in her smile and green splashed across her cheek.

“Really? I can?” He was on his feet in seconds, running over to her as she pulled down an old sketchbook and pencils, all varying shades of the rainbow.

“Of course you can, baby. Come on- let’s draw some pictures.”

~~~

The pack of gel pens seemed to call to him when he looked- glittering in the fluorescent lights of the drug store.

“Hm? What is it?” Rin blinked, raising a brow when Bachira seemed frozen to the spot. “Do you want them?”

“What? Oh- Oh no. Nah, I just…” He looked at them again, brows furrowed. “I don’t…”

“...” Rin looked at him, then at the pens. Then- with a sigh, he walked over, picking up the pack and a pad of paper sitting below. “If you can’t afford them, I’ll pay.”

“Huh? Oh no- I can-”

“And if you can, I’m still paying. You want them, even if you're too stubborn to admit it.” Without looking back, Rin carried on his shopping, grabbing a bag of chips on the way to the cash register.

Bachira stared after him, eyes feeling strangely wet. Then he smiled, shaking his head and following. “I’m gonna draw you extra pwetty, RinRin~”

“Call me that again and I’m keeping the pens.”

~~~

Bachira tapped an ocean blue pen against his cheek, tongue poking out as he looked down at the paper. Isagi looked back at him.

Well- doodled Isagi. He didn’t quite capture the other boy right- the hair looked smooth and glossy, and his features were all in the right places. There was just something so…lifeless about it. The face was there, but there wasn’t any soul behind it.

Surrounding this particular doodle were others- poses of his fellow and former teammates alike. Chigiri, a human lightning bolt, streaks of pink flying behind him as he dashed across the page. Kunigami, standing tall on the Blue Lock building, a cape fluttering behind him as he struck a superman pose. He even drew Nagi, curled up in a gray futon with purple checkered print.

Aryu striking one of his magnificent poses. Tokimitsu’s nervous but kind expression. Rin melting into water. They all came so easily to Bachira, like he could pluck the image of them out of his mind and smooth them on the page.

And yet…

The door slid open. Bachira shoved the notebook beneath the pillow just as Isagi walked in, a towel around his neck. “Man, if there’s one thing I like here, it’s the baths! I feel so…refreshed.” He spoke between a yawn, cracking one of those impossibly blue eyes open to watch Bachira. “You good? You look like a deer in headlights.”

“Isagi~” Bachira schooled his features into a relaxed expression, grinning as he rolled onto his back, securing his notebook beneath the pillow. “Come cuddle with me.”

~~~

Isagi wasn’t one to pry. If he noticed Bachira’s sudden shyness around his notebook, he didn’t say. None of the team seemed to, if the dribbler were being honest. He’d get a few curious looks his way as he scribbled, but no one formally asked what he was working on or for a peek. It was something Bachira appreciated and grew bummed by. There were other pages he was willing to show, just…not these.

Another Isagi. Another frustrating attempt. He just looked so wrong! Every sketch had something amiss; his eyes were dull in this one, his nose was shaped weird in that, his smile was missing that versatility in it all around. It was just…off!

“Bachira, we’re heading out to dinner-” Isagi poked his head in just as Bachira nearly tore the paper out. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Huh? Oh!” Panicked, Bachira tried to shove the notebook away, but it was too late. Isagi was already across the room, resting his hands gently over Bachira’s.

“Dude, relax. I’m sure what you drew isn’t-” Isagi looked down and- paused. Staring. Bachira felt his heart rate accelerate as Isagi took in the slightly crumpled paper, eyes following every line and shape and block of color. His face was unreadable, further worsening Bachira’s anxiety.

“I-Isagi…”

“Bachira…these are incredible!” Isagi looked up, eyes shining as he grinned. “I didn’t know you could draw so well!” He looked back down, smoothing out the paper as he took in the doodled version of himself. “Dude- I look so cool! That..sounded kinda vain, huh?” He flipped the page, blinking when he found more of his face. “Oh wow…”

“D-Don’t look at those!” Bachira tossed himself over Isagi’s lap, hiding the notebook under him as his face burned. “They’re all wrong! Every single one!”

“Wrong? What’s wrong with them- I think they’re great.” His boyfriend poked lightly at his back, trying to peek around him. “And I’m not just saying that cause it’s my face.”

Bachira made a soft noise of distress, burying his face in Isagi’s thigh. Isagi frowned, noting the mood. “Bachira? Are you okay? Oh jeez, was this one of those private notebooks? If so, I'm sorry for prying-”

“No, it’s not…it’s not that.” Bachira sounded muffled, but Isagi could make out his words when he leaned down. “They’re terrible, all of them! I can’t draw you!”

“...I mean, I only got a glance but, Bachira, they look good.” Isagi offered gently, playing with the strands of hair along Bachira’s neck. “I don’t understand- how are they terrible?”

“They don’t look right! None of them really look like you!” The strokes seemed to calm him down some, but Bachira still sounded so…sad. “I didn’t want you to see them until I had you down pat, but…I don’t know why- you’re just too perfect!”

“Pfft!” He hadn’t meant to laugh, but Isagi found himself snorting at the word choice. Bachira gave him a mild pout as his boyfriend pressed his free hand over his mouth. “Sorry- sorry; I’m just not used to hearing someone call me that.” He dropped his hand, smile remaining. “But seriously- you don’t need to draw me perfect. The fact you drew me at all is such an honor! It’s perfect as is.”

Bachira didn’t look convinced, turning away and keeping his pout. Isagi reached up, gently poking his shoulder blade. “Bachira.”

“No.” Bachira huffed, pouting more even when he squirmed. “I don’t want it.”

“Do you really mean that?” When Bachira didn’t respond, Isagi poked him again, making him squirm more. “If you don’t want this, roll out of my lap.”

He paused, waiting. Bachira didn’t move.

“Figured.” He teased, switching to gentle clawing, running his hand across Bachira’s shoulder blades. The dribbler twitched in response, starting to smile despite himself. “You love it when I tickle you. Now- I’m not gonna stop until you let me see that notebook of yours!”

“Noohohohohoo! It’s ehehhembaahhaharassing!” Bachira whined, kicking his feet as Isagi carried on his tickly touch. “Iihihiihihiisahahahahgi!”

“Don’t try to lie- I watch you, you know? I see how pouty you get whenever none of us ask about your drawings! You want to show me!” Isagi pressed in, earning a proper bout of laughter from the smaller boy. “You want to show everyone your work!”

“Ahehahhahhaha! Dooohohohohn’t saahhahahy it ohohoohohutloohohohohud!” Despite his protests, he felt his heart do a little skip knowing Isagi was watching him. He tried fighting back, poking at the brunette’s ribs with quick fingers. “Thahahhake thahahaht!”

“AH!” Isagi yelped, nearly falling over. “Oh you’re slick! Come here!” He wrestled him on the bed, tossing the notebook out of the danger zone as he dug a hand into Bachira’s armpit, earning a squeal. “You’re really gonna get it now!”

“EHEHEHEHEHHEHHEHESAGIHIHIHIHIIHII!” Bachira howled, flailing on the bed beneath his boyfriend. Isagi just HAD to go for the spot right along the back of his pits, tickling both them and his dreadful shoulder blades at once! He’s too knowledgeable- Bachira unintentionally awakened a monster. “PLEAHHAHAHHASE IT TIHIIHIHIHCKLES!”

“That’s the point, buddy.” Isagi cooed, leaning in and pressing a loud smooch into Bachira’s cheek. “You gonna keep shitting on your amazing art or am I gonna have to destroy you?”

“AHEHAHAHHAHA! DOOHOOHN’T THRHEHHAHAHTHEN MEHHEHE WITH A GOOHOHOHOD TIME!” Bachira squeaked out, making Isagi guffaw. It wasn’t long before they were both laughing, side by side in the messy bed as they gasped for air between giggle fits. “Yohoohu’re toohoohohoo good at that!” Bachira fake whined, pinching his boyfriend’s side.

“Ehe! I learned from the best.” Isagi smiled at him, eyes soft and warm and god he looked so kissable right now-

“Mmph!” Isagi made a noise of surprise when Bachira leaned in, capturing his lips with his own. It didn’t take long before Isagi returned the favor, melting against him. “What was that for?” He asked when they eventually broke apart.

“Felt like it.” Bachira grinned before his smile dampened, a shadow passing over his eyes. “Do you…really mean it?”

“About? Oh.” Isagi blinked, shaking out of his brain fog. “About your art? Absolutely!” Reaching back, he pulled the notebook over, handing it to Bachira with a patient smile. “You don’t have to show me now- but I do think your work is amazing. There’s so much…you in it, you know? Like- just that one piece alone- that’s what the artsy folks call it right? A piece? Anyway- looking at it, I could feel you in it- like you were using your soul as ink. I know it’s me- but I felt like we were one in that moment.” He smiled a bit awkwardly, scratching his cheek. “That sounded really pretentious now, didn’t it?”

Bachira couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find his voice. His vision suddenly grew very blurry.

“Bachira? Oh my god- I’m so sorry! I meant it in a good way! Please, don’t cry.” Isagi sounded panicked, reaching out and wiping the tears falling down his boyfriend’s face with his thumb. “I’m sorry.”

“N-No, no it’s not-” Bachira sniffed, smiling through the tears. “I’m so happy…I’m just-really, really happy right now.” Isagi’s face relaxed, and he leaned in to kiss Bachira’s wet cheeks. “That means more than you know, Isagi. Thank you.”

Isagi smiled, cheeks warming with pride. He leaned in to kiss him properly before starting to sit up. “We should get dinner before they close the cafeteria. Care to join me?”

Bachira laughed, sitting up and putting his notebook back in its usual place. “I’d love to.” He took Isagi’s outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled up and escorted, hand in hand. “And I love you, Yoichi.”

The other looked back at him, eyes dancing. His smile nearly split his face from how happy he looked. It never failed to take Bachira’s breath away. “I love you too, Meguru.”

Later that night, Bachira finally drew his perfect Isagi- smiling the way he did in that moment.

Thanks for reading!

[gun-lavashovel]

Gun if wearing absolutely stunning full of swag bitch-getter glitter pants became illegal

[lovemesomesurveys]

So the 90's were a crazy time for us growing up! Lets start with Music.. Were You A Fan Of? The Backstreet Boys The Spice Girls STEPS No Doubt N*Sync Oasis Weezer The Vengaboys TLC Destiny's Child Hanson FIVE Madonna B*Witched S Club 7 M2M 98 Degrees Ricky Martin Sonique Sugar Ray Billie Piper Vitamin C Play

What about 90's Movies.. Were you a Fan of...

Clueless Jurassic Park Pulp Fiction Titanic Home Alone The Lion King Pretty Woman 10 Things I Hate About You Empire Records Space Jam Dumb and Dumber Aladdin Wayne's World Ace Ventura American Pie Hocus Pocus Matilda She's All That Bring It On The Craft Cruel Intentions Never Been Kissed Jawbreaker Spice World Can'y Hardly Wait I Know What You Did Last Summer Romy and Michele's High School Reunion Drive Me Crazy

90's TOYS, Did you have or want these?

YoYo Play-Doh Super Soaker Betty Spaghetty Gameboy Colour Tamogotchi Bop It Furby Moon Shoes Hit Clips Mouse Trap Koosh Balls Sky Dancers Slammer Whammers Spice Girls Dolls Slime Etch a Sketch Easy Bake Oven Pokemon Trading Card Game Littlest Pet Shop Street Sharks Mighty Max Sylvian Families Beanie Babies Silly Putty Brain Warp Atari Jaguar Groovy Girls Nintendo 64 Magic Mitt Slinkies Polly Pocket Poo-Chi Rainbow Brite GakSplat Doodle Bear Skip It Trolls

How About 90's Fashion.. What did you think of...

Crop Tops I was just a kid in the 90s, that wasn’t my style. I also remember thinking I didn’t want to show my stomach. Studded Belts I had one in the 2000s. Scrunchies Loved ‘em. Still do. Butterfly Clips Loved those as well and still do. Chokers I don’t like things around my neck like that. Plaid, Pleated Mini Skirts Not my style, personally, but I liked some of the looks. Slip Dresses I didn’t wear stuff like that. Long, Leather Jacket Blazers Didn’t wear ‘em, but they’re cool. You look badass in a leather jacket haha. Chain Belts Not my thing. Boob Tubes Is that the same as a tube top? Not a fan. Hip Hugger Jeans Again, I didn’t wear that stuff as a kid but that was the popular style and I probably liked it when seeing celebrities wear them and whatnot. Camo Pants Nah. Mood Rings Those were cool. Scarf Tops Definitely not my style. Bandanas I didn’t wear them. Crushed Velvet Nah. Platform Sneakers I thought they were kinda cool. Spaghetti Straps Cute. Corsets Not my thing. Pedal Pushers I wore ‘em. Were you a fan of these 90's Television Shows Spongebob Square Pants Animaniacs Dexters Laboratory Hey Arnold Power Puff Girls Barbie Rocko's Modern Life Batman Ren and Stimpy Ed, Edd and Eddy Johnny Bravo Sesame Street Arthur Ducktales Doug Catdog Angry Beavers As Told By Ginger Tiny Toon Adventures Looney Tunes Aaahhh! Real Monsters Talespin Daria Beavis and Butthead The Wild Thornberrys King Of The Hill Futurama Digimon Pokemon Captain Planet The Simpsons Cow and Chicken Blinky Bill Rugrats Sylvester and Tweety Sonic The Hedgehog Dragontales Clifford The Dog Random 90's things. Thoughts on... Checkered Kitchenware Nostalgic Every restaurant had that it seemed. Cartoon Character Coffee Mugs and Cookie Jars Cute, I like stuff like that. Celestial Prints around the house Nah. Lava Lamps I had one; I thought they were cool. Candle Holders I don’t really have any thoughts on that. Coca Cola Tins Or that. Blonde Wood Furniture I don’t know what that is. Tape Decks Discmans to play music It was the cool thing at the time. Oversized Headphones They hurt my ears. Cd's (Singles) I loved CDs back in the day. Pastel coloured plates Cute. A fancy dish for the butter Nice. A Miracle Mop Elizabeth Taylors 'White Diamonds' in your mothers room I don’t think she wore that. Picture frames that were also photo albums Cool. a fancy decorative plate that sat in the kitchen and no one was to use it We didn’t have one. topiaries It’s pretty cool what you can make out of shrubs and trees. a basket for the mail Useful? crazy patterned bed sheets Fun. an ab isolater your parents kept in a spare room or the shed Didn’t have one. McDonalds collector cups and disney figurines Loved those. We still have a lot of ours. slime time on nickelodeon I always wanted to get slimed as a kid. MTV actually had music The good ol’ days. I loved watching TRL.

video hits on television Good times. bath oil beads Didn’t use ‘em. overalls and doc martens I liked overalls. super mario Loved Super Mario. Still do. bubble beeper I didn’t have one. nokia brick mobile phones Didn’t have one either. Man, we’ve come a long way with cellphones. pogos bangles I liked those. mary kate and ashley olsen I was a huge fan, I watched all their stuff and had all their movies on VHS. glow worms hair crimper machine It was cool at the time. I styled my hair for picture day in elementary school one year. hair straighteners Liked those as well. clarissa explains it all I liked it. barbie happy meal toys Those were fun to get. I was obsessed with Barbies. gel and glitter pens Loved those. animal shaped erasers Those and scented ones were fun to have. echo microphones puppy surprise (the dog toys that had puppies in its belly) I had one, such a freaky thing. Goosebumps novels I was obsessed with Goosebumps. My Little Pony Wasn’t into that. 

Baby Born Dolls I don’t think I had one. Barbie Dolls ObSESSED. I had to have everything and would play for hours and hours everyday. Crayola Mini Stampers Cool. Snake on mobile Nokias I think I might have played before. Carebears Cute, I liked Carebears. Still do. I find myself relating to Grumpy Bear nowadays, ha.

[hollywooduniversityalumnus]

1. burning glances, turning heads

He really should know better, Margot thought, to expect that his class would be paying attention on a Friday afternoon before the long weekend.

As Professor Hunt, the surliest yet most accomplished educator to roam the halls of Hollywood University, all but threw Lance Sergio out for being extremely obvious about taking excessively filtered selfies during the lecture, she took the opportunity to lean over to Addison, poking her with the eraser end of her mechanical pencil. The blonde, as if being suddenly woken, started, causing her gel pen to make a squiggle just off the doodle she was mindlessly making on the edge of her paper.

“What?” Addison asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Margot shrugged. “I’m bored.”

“I think we’re all bored,” Addison teased. “But at least some of us are more subtle than others.”

She nodded towards the front, where the professor had turned his attentions to Jenni Whitman, whose open laptop screen displayed one of the trashier celebrity gossip websites. Beside her, Bianca Stone surreptitiously slipped her phone into her pocket and bowed her head over her notebook, as though trying to commit the blank pages to memory, and Shae, another of Bianca’s friends, panicked and stuffed her phone in the front of her shirt, making a strange lump in the fabric.

As Jenni, too, packed up and took her leave at his insistence, Professor Hunt returned to the lectern, his jaw tense.

“While I understand that you are all incapable of delaying gratification long enough to pay attention in my class, I maintain my zero-tolerance policy for distractions. It would do the rest of you well,” he gritted out, “to not force my hand any more than it’s already been.” His eyes slowly took in the remaining pupils sitting in the hall. “Do I make myself clear?”

The lecture continued.

As he began a diatribe on romantic comedies, Margot turned back to Addison and gestured for her to look at her notebook. Addison subtly glanced down as she pretended to stretch, reading the message written on the corner of the page in very, very light pencil lead strokes.

Do you think he’s ever even seen a rom com?

Addison smirked and turned the page on her notebook, scrawling her reply in much more perceptible pink glitter ink.

Not on purpose, if at all.

Margot suppressed a laugh at the thought.

Like, maybe he sat through You’ve Got Mail thinking that it was about the postal service?

Or Mystic Pizza being about a magical pizza.

Or Crazy Rich Asians being a biopic.

Or-

“I thought I made myself clear.”

The two girls jumped in their seats, hearts pounding, expecting to find the frowning professor looming over them. Luckily for them, his attention was on Shae, whose poorly hidden phone in her shirt had become quite the spectacle, as the screen lit up behind the thin fabric and an instrumental snippet of a Top 40s hit blared from behind the buttons.

“Out,” Professor Hunt snapped. When Shae didn’t immediately move, he all but yelled, “Out!”

Dear God, she thought, this lecture is never-ending.

She was one of perhaps sixteen students left in the hall. Many others, including Bianca, had either flown the coop during the mandated fifteen-minute break, or were not-so-nicely asked to leave by the increasingly tense professor. She had flirted with the idea of beginning her long weekend early, too, but she knew she was already on thin ice with Hunt (to be fair, when isn’t she?), and she might as well learn something anyway. She didn’t have anything to do or anywhere to be. Unlike many of her classmates, she wasn’t heading home for the long weekend, and her plans for the next four days were most likely going to be a cycle of sleep, catching up on the show Chris recommended, and getting takeout.

“. . . and that is why we're discussing the decline of the romantic comedy, a genre that relies all too often on an unbelievable formula. Miss Sinclair?”

Addison’s head snapped up. “Yes, Professor?”

“Kindly give us an example of a trope commonly seen in romantic comedies. I am assuming you are familiar with them.”

“Y-yes,” Addison said, twirling her fuzzy-capped gel pen with her fingers. “Um, in, um, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, the two leads often fought and got on each other’s nerves but fell in love with each other anyway.”

Professor Hunt nodded. “Thank you, Miss Sinclair. A topical example of an overused trope. How often have you seen the two lead characters spend most of a movie fighting with each other, only to end up together in the end because of some ill-established passion? Far too often, I’d assume.”

As he droned on, Margot reached over and patted Addison’s arm. “Good job.”

The blonde returned the smile, relieved to have survived the encounter. “Thanks, I was dying inside.”

“Real love is nothing like that,” Hunt said, sneering. “Real love, the kind that exists outside of a cinema screen or five-dollar DVD bin, is not a predictable, clearly laden path with a clear and promised conclusion. Expecting a happily ever after in a relationship is naïve at best.”

“Who hurt him?” Addison mumbled to her.

She poked Addison again with her pencil. “Can you imagine someone loving Hunt? Or even dating him?”

“No! It'd be like dating an angry bear. It’d be a miracle if they lived to tell the tale. I heard he's single, unsurprisingly.” Addison shook her head.

“He probably has crazy high standards. Do you think he has a type?” She bit her lip, assessing her professor from afar. Though his modelling days were far behind him, he still maintained a well-kept, impeccable appearance that often made her wonder what he would look like without the constricting suits he wore like second skins. His features were both manly yet delicate, as if the world had taken its sweet time with perfecting his visage. And his jawline . . . sharp enough to cut glass. He was definitely not lacking in looks, talent, or drive, which was what made his being perpetually single all the more intriguing, though his personality made it understandable.

“Yeah, if perfect is a type. Like, someone with a model hot body, a mind as sharp as a stiletto, and a Hollywood career that's skyrocketing.” Addison giggled.

She tapped her lip with the eraser end of her pencil, thinking. “So, a fictional person.”

Addison leaned into her, eyes glimmering with amusement. “I bet it'd be like getting graded all the time. He'd be judging your outfit, insulting your conversation, critiquing your kissing technique! ‘Too much tongue. You call that a kiss? Kindly remove yourself from my sight.’”

She chuckled. “‘You’ve got to do better than that if you want me to feel anything other than complete and utter monotony.’”

“‘I've seen more believable kisses on The Bachelor.’”

The laugh that bubbled out of her was loud enough to capture the attention of the very man they were emulating. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her quickly trying to clamp her mouth shut.

“Miss Schuyler! Is something amusing? Perhaps you'd like to finish off my lecture on the difficulty of realistically portraying love?” he asked.

She straightened in her seat. “Sorry, Professor.”

“. . . And in conclusion, once a genre full of heart, the majority of romantic comedies have descended into farce bereft of true emotion. Class dismissed.” The professor strode over to his desk and began the necessary routine of shutting off the projection screen. As he did, the rest of the class stood up, stretching, and began packing their things away. Excited voices began eagerly discussing their plans for the weekend.

Thank God, Margot thought. The never-ending lecture was over. Let the weekend-

His eyes met hers, a pointed gaze. “Except for you, Miss Schuyler. Come see me. We need to talk.”

. . . Shit.

Addison touched her arm. “Do you want me to stay back, too?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she said, patting her friend’s hand. “You go on ahead. Don’t be late for your bus. I know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your mom.”

Addison grinned. “I’ll text you when I get there.”

“The least you can do,” she teased.

Addison’s smile waned. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on campus for the weekend? My mom said it would be no trouble at all for you to visit.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. With almost everyone going away for the long weekend, I’m going to indulge in using up all the hot water. Maybe even sit at the good table in the coffee shop. Wild stuff like that. Thank you, though.”

“Well, then,” Addison said, smile returning full-force, “I’ll be on my way. Good luck! Hope you don’t get into too much trouble.”

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “Don’t worry about little ol’ me. I know how to deal with him.”

Addison nodded and took her leave, one of the last of the classmates to exit the hall. Gathering up the rest of her things, Margot stuffed them into her tote bag and made her way up to the professor’s desk, where he was busy rifling through his own bag and muttering to himself.

“Just one second,” he said, placing a few handfuls of odds and ends from the depths of his bag on the table.

She nodded, more fascinated by the things that he seemingly carried around with him. Of the many things on his desk, she noted a mini Rubik’s cube, a slip of paper with very faded ink that might have been a receipt or a movie ticket once, a cellophane-wrapped green-and-white mint, three expensive-looking pens of various colours and sizes, and a tube of plain blue Nivea lip balm, identical to the one she had in her purse at that very moment. While the label on hers had faded from usage and being flung around inside her bag, his looked brand new.

After brushing those items back into his bag, he placed a stack of papers on the desktop. Among them, a bright slip of paper poked out, much smaller than the rest, and made of a thicker, textured material. Curious, she pulled it out until she could read the tiny lettering.

5th Annual Los Angeles Charity Masquerade. Admit one (1). $250 admission not including fees/taxes.

She’d never been to a masquerade. She imagined they were just like that scene in Labyrinth, with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly spinning around the room, surrounded by people in grotesque masks that partly concealed their identities. Big poufy dresses and suits with coattails. Drapery and curtains and mirrors. But an LA soiree version of one probably meant champagne by the bucketful and crudités carried around by masked waiters. Perhaps live music, performed by musicians forced into formal wear, and maybe they were even masked as well. Was everyone there, guest or not, required to wear one? Were masquerades that strict? Do people who wear glasses have to-

You’re getting distracted, she told herself.

“A masquerade ball, huh? That sounds romantic.” She leaned against the desk, smirking at him. “And here I thought you were completely against the concept of romance.”

“Only someone delusional looks for love at a charity masquerade ball,” he replied scathingly. “It's a charity event and an obligation. I'm expected to attend, but there'll be no one worth talking to. As usual.”

“No date, huh?”

His eyes narrowed. “A date would require me to spend the entire evening there. I can't imagine anything worse. I'll be leaving as soon as I've made my donation to the cause. But I didn't call you up here to discuss my social calendar, Miss Schuyler. I wanted to talk about your behaviour in class. I thought, after seeing nearly all of your classmates get removed from the hall, you’d know better than to provoke me. I want to make it absolutely clear to you that it is unacceptable to disrupt my lecture. Save your chit chat for your own time, understand?”

She swallowed hard, feeling heat on her cheeks from his gaze. “Yes, Professor.”

He nodded once. “Good. You may go.”

As she left the hall, phone in hand, her heart was thumping in her chest from excitement. But not from the weekend finally starting.

She’d never been to a masquerade, after all.

But first, she’d need a dress. And shoes.

Without her stellar roommate and fashionista friend by her side, she felt entirely overwhelmed as she flipped through the overflowing closet Addi had insisted she make use of. Though she hadn’t told her the whole truth – just that she was attending an event that required formal wear – Addi had been thrilled to break up the boring bus ride with some advice.

“Not too much cleavage,” Addison said, her voice tinny through the phone speaker. “And not short, either. Knee-length or longer.”

“Do you think I’ll need gloves?” she asked. “Like Cinderella?”

Addison hummed. “Maybe. Pack a pair of elbow length white gloves in your bag, just in case. Oh my gosh. What bag are you bringing? It cannot clash. You hear me? Cannot.”

“Addi, I don’t even know what dress I’m wearing.” Margot frowned at her phone, balanced atop a stack of textbooks on her vanity. “I’m standing here in my underwear trying to figure this out. I’m pre-bibbidi-bobbidi-boo here.”

Addison’s laughter rang out of the speaker.

“I’m serious, Addi. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” She bit her lip, thinking of the money she’d spent on a ticket, money that might’ve been better spent. She was lucky that there were even tickets available. But that was beside the point. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“What’s a bad idea? Having a good time? Attending a charity event? Making career-defining connections? Come on.” Addison giggled. “Maybe you’ll even meet the love of your life there.”

“Right.” She flipped through the racks, eager to find something, anything . . . and then she saw it. A strapless, silvery blue ball gown, tight at the top but not overly cleavage-baring, that flared out at the waist to a full, silky skirt that would definitely conceal whatever shoes she would wear. She pulled it out of the closet and unzipped the clear garment bag to admire it. It was a princess dress if she ever saw one. Turning back to the phone, she quickly requested the voice call turn to a video.

Seconds later, Addison’s tired faced filled the screen. “What is it?”

Brandishing the dress out with a flourish, she ignored that she was standing in little more than a bra and panties as she showed the dress for her friend’s approval.

The gasp she heard confirmed her selection.

“You’ll be so stunning! A real-life Cinderella,” Addison said.

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly, running her hand over the smooth fabric, already envisioning the makeup look she’d pair with the outfit.

“Except-” Addison narrowed her eyes in her best stern Hunt impression. “If you lose one of my shoes, it would be best to leave the country.”

Her taxi finally reached the front of the line, and a footman waiting on the sidewalk opened the door for her. She stepped out in her beautiful ball gown, giving the footman a grateful smile as he closed the door after her. Taking her time ascending the steps in her heels, she met another footman at the door who, after looking at her ticket and corroborating it with the guest list on a tablet, handed her a mask with ribbons.

She stepped into the hallway leading to the ballroom and found a mirror where she could put it on. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was more than pleased by her last-minute glow-up. As Addison had her closet, she had her vanity, stuffed to the brim with makeup products that she used to make herself look as chic as possible. After adjusting the mask to fit her face, she smoothed a layer of lip gloss over her lined lips and smiled to herself.

With this mask, I could be anyone . . . well, anyone smokin' hot, that is, she thought.

The ballroom was packed despite its tremendous size. Decorated Regency-style, it dripped with decadence, glass, and shine. Gold chandeliers tipped with crystals dangled from ceilings with painted murals, and tables spilled over with decadent food and sparkling drinks in crystal flutes. Famous actors and big names in the industry, though shrouded by masks of varying hues and designs, gossiped at the edges of the room, while couples danced and twirled on the floor. As she envisioned, masked waiters masterfully navigated the room, offering bite-sized treats that made her mouth water just looking at them.

After making her way around the room, taking in the splendor, she came to a stop near a pillar and sighed.

“This is incredible,” Margot said aloud.

“Isn’t it?”

She turned her head, surprised to see a man with a dark blue mask eyeing her from where he sat by the nearby bar.

“Come sit with me and let’s talk about it,” he said. The invitation, though innocuous in its wording, made her uncomfortable.

“Um,” she said. Her mind, which was usually buzzing with quips, did not offer her an out.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he pressed, voice a little too firm and sharp for her liking. “I won’t bite. Come here.”

She swallowed hard at his leery gaze, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “I-”

And then she felt it, a hand circling around her elbow, and she was not alone. She tilted her head up to appraise her saviour, who was looking down at her with a smile. Her saviour, tall and silver-masked, looked and spoke to her as if he knew her.

“There you are.” He led her to the other side of the bar, all the while chattering loudly as though they had come together. “Nearly lost you in this crowd.”

She knew that voice. Knew it quite well, in fact. She’d heard it in lecture halls, offices, in her nightmares and dreams, and in places unexpected.

This was one of the latter now.

He gestured to a pair of empty seats, and she gratefully took one. As soon as she was comfortable, he turned his head to look over at where that man who had been speaking at her sat. Then, he leaned against the bar, standing over the other empty seat, and picked up a half-empty glass, presumably abandoned by him when he came to her rescue.

“You should be careful,” he said sternly.

For a moment, she thought he recognized her, and she prepared for the lecture that would undoubtedly come.

“Even charity events attract the lecherous,” he continued. “You’re very welcome, by the way.” A smirk played on his lips before he took a sip of his drink.

“Thanks,” she said, for she had no clue what else to say.

He nodded once. “Do be careful with yourself. You’re bound to attract some unwanted attention. It would do you well to keep your head clear so that you may avoid future encounters. You can’t expect someone to come to your rescue every single time.”

“Nor do I expect rescue at all,” she replied. “I am no damsel in distress. Though, I guess, I kind of was for a second there, huh.”

He laughed. It wasn’t sarcastic or mocking. A genuine laugh that made him tilt his head back ever so slightly. She’d never heard him laugh like that before, but now that she had a taste, she wanted to hear it again and again. It was so unlike him, the caustic and cold professor she knew. It made him even more attractive.

“At least you’re honest.” He tilted his head at her. “I prefer to be honest.”

“I like that.” Sitting up a little straighter, Margot added, “Honesty's refreshing. One thing I've learned since I've been here, in Hollywood I mean, is that too many people are willing to lie to your face or cheat to get ahead.”

He glanced at his watch. “Is that so?” He killed his drink and then levelled his gaze with hers. “And you’re not one of them?”

“No,” she said, then thought better of it. “Not yet, at least. Not if I can help it.”

“So, you want to get ahead.” He finally lowered himself into the seat beside hers.

He gestured to the bartender for a refill, and she took the opportunity to order herself a drink. The bartender nodded at them and turned away.

“I want to be a household name. A famous actress.”

He leaned forward, close to her. “Here's some more truth for you . . . everyone here wants to be something. But not everyone here is going to succeed.”

Stubbornly, she said, “I will.”

“You're brash, naive, and overly confident. I used to be that way, before. . .” His smirk waned, then disappeared altogether. It was clear he was not mentally in this room anymore.

She wondered what he was thinking about.

The bartender slid his scotch refill to him, then delicately placed her drink on a coaster in front of her. He picked up his glass and took a rather large gulp.

“. . . Ahem. Excuse me. I'm Thomas. And you are?”

Honesty’s refreshing, she had said just moments earlier. Too many people are willing to lie to get ahead.

She truly didn’t want to lie to him, not now. But she also sensed that revealing herself now would mean that she wouldn’t get to keep talking to him like this or hear that laugh.

And, honestly, what good would come out of angering him after he’d been so kind to her?

“Someone who doesn't like to reveal all her secrets.” She smiled coyly, taking a sip from the paper straw in her drink. “It's a masquerade ball, after all.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You don't have to be so coy. I don't need a name to figure out who you are. Or anyone in this room, for that matter.” Turning so that he could assess the crowd around them, he nodded towards different masked guests. “Timothee Chalamet; his hair is distinctive, as is his stature. Charlize Theron; note the regal way she carries herself, much like several of her most notable characters. Adam Driver; tall, kind of awkward gait, a low voice that carries over the crowd.”

“Very impressive, Thomas,” she said, trying out his name on her tongue. It was sort of strange to refer to him so casually, but she’d have to adapt if she wanted to keep this going on.

He took another sip, clearly pleased to be right. “Told you, didn��t I?”

Though she enjoyed the game they were playing, she decided to really test him. “Here’s a harder challenge: do you know who I am?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I've been wondering that the moment you arrived. Something about you is familiar, almost loathsome, yet at the same time, forgive me, attractive.” He tilted his head. “You’re not going to tell me who you are, are you?”

Though her heart was pounding, she kept it cool. “Maybe at the end of the night. Unless you're planning on leaving early. Are you?”

“No.” He broke eye contact with her long enough to get the bartender’s attention, and he gestured for another refill. “No, I’m not.”

At some point, in the midst of their conversation, the music had noticeably gone softer and slower. He finished his drink and sighed, placing the glass onto the countertop, but just as he was about to request another refill, she captured his attention with a hand on his arm.

“We should dance,” Margot said, springing out of her seat. “Care to join me?”

He hesitated, and her glossed lips pouted.

Then, slowly, he rose from his seat, all the while maintaining eye contact with her. He straightened his tie and gave her a smirk.

“Do try to keep up,” he teased, buttoning his suit jacket before offering her his arm. They slipped through the crowd, the guests not dancing parting for them as easily as water. As soon as they reached the dance floor, he took the lead, taking her in his arms and guiding her. She was slow, cautious. He watched her fight her instinct to look at their feet.

“If you're nervous, this dance will be over before it even begins,” he warned, though his grip on her tightened.

She pulled him closer, emboldened by the drink in her system and the fact that he didn’t know who she was, and smiled up at him.

“Do I seem nervous, Thomas?” she asked.

He smiled. “Not at all. I’m surprised. You’re not completely horrible at this.”

She batted her eyelashes. “You say such charming things.”

They both laughed as he whirled her around the room.

She didn’t know how long they’d been dancing for, but she knew they were being watched. The crowd of dancers had thinned considerably since they had first arrived on the dance floor, and now many spectators lined the floor, watching with increasing interest as she and her partner weaved around the other dancers, doing increasingly interesting moves at his lead.

Her heart was pounding, the music was building to a crescendo, and he spun her around the dance floor faster and faster.

Don’t puke, she told herself. Do not do it. Your reputation will not recover. Not with whoever’s in attendance, and certainly not with Thomas.

His voice came from somewhere to her right. “Keep to my tempo, or you'll fall behind.”

He spun her out and away from him.

The world beyond the dance floor seemed as if was moving in slow motion, while she was stuck on fast-forward. She felt like she was one of the fairy toys that spun around and around in the air, aimless and free, before meeting a wall or piece of furniture and clattering to the floor. She braced herself for impact.

But then her hands connected with his again, and the crowd that had gathered to watch the dancers applauded as he pulled her back into his embrace.

“You learn quickly. I wish you were one of my students,” he whispered in her ear.

Her stomach, which had felt so light just moments before, now felt heavy and twisted.

“You’re a teacher,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “I teach at a local university.”

“How . . . nice.” It was the best she could come up with at the moment.

After she had become too dizzy from the spinning, he escorted her off the dance floor with an amused smile. He led her through the ballroom and out onto a private balcony cordoned off by a thick dark velvet curtain. Taking her hand, they stepped closer to the railing, into the cool evening air.

After giving her a long look, he let go of her hand and slowly removed his mask. The silver-lined blue barrier fell away to reveal him. He looked even more handsome up close, with a shy smile on his lips and the bright light from a single lantern hanging above them illuminating his debonair features.

“Disappointed?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, stunned by seeing him so unguarded, and even more handsome up close. “Not at all.”

The ocean waves below were muted by her heartbeat. Above them, she noted the sun setting, the sky becoming an ombre canvas of oranges, reds, and pinks. It was truly a stunning sight, but her gaze kept coming back to him. Still smiling, he reached out and took her hands in his.

His voice was husky, low. “You are definitely the best part of the night. I wasn't expecting to meet someone like you. I can sense something about you, a connection . . . I never thought I'd feel this strongly about someone I just met, but I can't seem to stop myself.”

She felt as though she was not breathing. As if she might never breathe again.

Moving even closer, he circled his arms around her waist, tilted her head up, and leaned in, eyes closing just before they made contact.

She was surprised by how sweetly he kissed her, how delicately he held her, as though she would slip away in the faintest breeze. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer to him until they were nearly inseparable. She thought she could hear fireworks somewhere, and wondered if she was only imagining them, but when they finally pulled back from the kiss, she saw flashes of colour illuminating his face in vibrant hues.

“Thomas,” she said breathlessly.

And then his mouth was on hers again, pulling her closer still, until his back was against the wall, and her hand was on the back of his neck, holding him to her. She felt his fingers on her back, just above the silk of the strapless dress, and she shivered and pressed herself tighter to him.

“Please,” he whispered raggedly once they separated again. “I have to know who you are.”

Margot stilled.

He reached around her and began tugging on the ribbons of her mask. She watched him closely, letting him untie the knots, savouring what very well may be the last moment she would have with him like this. 

The mask fell away from her face, and she watched him recognize her, watched his eyes widen and face twist in betrayal and anger before he stepped back and pressed a hand against his mouth in horror. Her blood ran cold as his eyes narrowed and his expression hardened to one of complete disdain.

“Margot? How - how dare you?” he gasped. “You – you – I cannot believe this! You lied to me! You deceived me! You seduced me! How could you?”

His rejection, though expected, pained her in ways she couldn’t even describe. As though his words were branding irons, burning his hatred into her flesh.

“You’re the last person I wanted to see behind that mask,” he spat. “You, of all the people in the world.”

He kept hurting her, hurting her, like he didn’t care. And perhaps he didn’t, now that he knew the truth.

“I can’t believe I - Dear God, I kissed a student.” He leaned back against the wall, forcing himself to take deep breaths to keep himself steady.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched him denounce her in every way possible. Even though he’d bragged about being able to identify anyone, he didn’t expect her, didn’t even cross his mind to guess her, and for some reason it hurt her more than anything else.

“Some part of you might’ve known it was me,” she said indignantly. “You were bragging that you-”

He let out a caustic laugh at that. “Why would I want you to be someone I despise? Someone I don’t respect? I’m disgusted with you and myself.”

And that was all she needed to hear.

Pushing past him, she covered her face – and the tears streaking down them – as she rushed out of the gala and into the night.

The taxi ride back to the dorms was awkward, mostly because she spent the entire ride sniffling, trying to hold back her tears, and using up the Kleenex the driver kept a box of by the rear windshield. After tipping him, she sprung out of the taxi and didn’t stop running until she was safely back in her room.

It was there that Margot allowed herself to fully break down. In that beautiful princess dress, she flopped onto her bed and sobbed, hugging herself tightly, letting out all the anger and frustration and pain that she felt at being so heavily and heartlessly rejected by him. She cried for the way he looked at her. Sobbed at the beautiful moments they shared that were now tainted by the conclusion of the night. She ached for what could have been and wept for her naivete.

A part of her knew that there was no way anything could’ve come from it. But she’d let herself fall into the fairy tale, accepting him as her stand-in prince for the evening, and felt charmed by their conversing, their somewhat playful banter, and the compatibility in their dancing skills. And the kisses they shared . . .

Though her chest and throat ached from crying, if she closed her eyes tight enough, she could still feel his mouth against hers, languid and sweet in its kiss.

There was something there. She knew it.

It hurt her to know that, even if he sensed something too, he would never acknowledge it.

Twenty minutes away from the Hollywood U dorms, Thomas Hunt sat on his bed, still in his suit from the masquerade, drinking scotch straight from the bottle. Two pairs of masks lay beside him, one slightly more rumpled than the other from its owner stepping on it as she ran from the private balcony.

Setting the bottle down on the bedside table, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to think back to the beginning of it all, pushing past the haze the alcohol left in his head.

He’d spotted her the moment she walked in and had kept an eye on her since she began making her way around the ballroom. And, from the sounds of the men sitting close by him, he was not the only one who had noticed her.

The dress she wore made her ethereal, like she’d stepped out of a dream. The shiny silk that hugged her frame before flowing to the floor, coupled with her demure yet entrancing makeup and the awed look in her eyes from behind her mask, set her apart from the rest.

He took a large gulp of his drink and loosened his tie.

She got closer, and one of the wolves made their move.

As if by an unknown force pulling him forward, he found himself walking up to her, his mind struggling to catch up with his actions as he offered her a way out of the clearly unwanted interaction.

“There you are.” He led her to the seat he had previously occupied and was pleased to find that one of the men had taken flight upon seeing them interact. She sat down and looked up at him curiously, as if wondering why he had saved her from being potentially preyed upon.

“You should be careful,” he said. “Even charity events attract the lecherous. You’re very welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

He knew that voice. The sincerity of the gratitude, tinged with sarcasm at having to reply at all.

She seemed not to have recognized him. He wondered how long it would be before she did. Though the mask concealed some of her features, with his close proximity he was quick to identify her by other things that gave her away, like her high cheekbones and dark tresses she’d pulled into a half-up hairdo and, now, her distinctive voice.

He felt tempted to call her out on it and send her on her way home, but at the same time, he wanted to know where this would go. Revealing what he knew would mean that he wouldn’t get to keep talking to her like this.

And it was a masquerade ball, after all.

[visuallanguagebethmitchell]

Workshops to explore the index brief further.. aka edward pen-hands

first, tying 6 different types of writing implement together and swinging or dropping at the paper. These are the first 3 images.

second, tying different implements to a glove like apparatus. I don’t have a glove. So just stuck them straight onto my wee fingers. I closed my eyes and just let them drag across the page in whatever way I wanted, I wasn’t overly fussed what the outcome was, more the process and experience of doing so.

I made a few drawings of both styles. The implements I used being a sharpie, highlighter, biro pen, blue glitter pen, gel pen, and a good ol graphite pencil.

I love the sporadic strange marks from it. I like that they aren’t especially representative of anything. That they’re more indexical of the experience or trace of movement that created them, more than actually an object in themselves. I might try edit the drawings a little more. will be contd.

[burymewithmydice]

I saw you saying that you reink dice. Any chance you would ever make a tutorial for those of us who want to but are scared of messing up our pretties?

Oh goodness, the fear of ruining them is what kept me from trying reinking for the longest time! My suggestion to help with that fear is to get a set of super cheap dice and start with those, just to try your hand at some techniques. Simple, single color opaque or translucent sets can be purchased for just a few dollars a lot of places and that way if you don’t like the results, no worries!

Secondly, keep in mind that no ink is 100% permanent. No really! You reink a set you love and the color just wasn’t right...soak those babies in some LA Awesome (get it at the dollar store) or Isopropyl alcohol (in the health and beauty section at most stores) and try again!

Now, that being said, I’m actually going to link you to two other blogs, who have already done lovely little tutorials for reinking, complete with pictures because they’re great and already done.

Battlecrazed Axe Mage

Box O Dice

These posts are great for opaque dice! Simple, easy, less work than you’d think. I use gel pens, because I like the color options (mainly the shimmer and glitter) buuuut... gel pen ink is not ‘permanent’ like sharpie (I find these not as clean filling and the colors are lacking) or acrylic paint (lots of color options, a bit messy). Gel pen ink will come off very easily in just regular ole water. I...learned this the hard way. It will not likely come off with just regular use and handling, but if you concerned about spilling things you can seal the color with a little clear nailpolish.

Now...these tutorials don’t cover translucent dice. You have two options with translucent dice. You can say fuck it, follow the same tutorials as the opaque dice, and go on with your life and your reinking adventures. The down side of this is that while the outside of the dice will be all pretty and new with their brand new colors, when you look THROUGH the dice you will see the old ink on the other side.

This is what I do. I have too many dice and too little time on my hands. But it’s not the prettiest. Catching a glimpse of that dull gold or boring white through the dice that you lovingly reinked can be a bit disappointing.

Your second option is SO MUCH PRETTIER... aaaaannd fucking time consuming. Remember how I said that no ink is permanent? Yup, not even the ugly/boring stuff your dice came with.

Pop those babies in an LA Awesome bath (I’ve heard it works wonders but have not tried it myself) or Isopropyl alcohol (have tried this, it took forever and didn’t work very well) and start scraping. And scraping. And more scraping. And, you guessed it, even more scraping.

Deinking dice is LONG AND BORING AND CUMBERSOME and my attention span cannot handle it.

The results are so spectacular thought. To look through a glittery, translucent die and see that gorgeous rainbow paint you painstakingly applied all around...*kisses fingers like an italian chef*

I just don’t have the patience for it.

So that’s it, dicelings. Reinking is not as scary as we all think it is. It’s pretty simple, (mostly) easy to do, and gives you beautiful, unique results in the end. So grab your dice and your patience and give it a go!

[methotrex8]

Review of All Writing Utensils: College Edition

1. Regular Ol’ No. 2 Pencil

Pros:

No obnoxious clicking

Always acceptable in every exam

Smells good

Can be made from recyclable materials

Can usually get them for free at any event

Kills vampires

Cons:

Need to bring pencil sharpener or pray that there is one that *actually works* in the room

Why does the wood get longer than the GRAPHITE???

Once it touches a Bad Sharpener, it’s fucked up for life

Eraser just...falls off sometimes

Gets smaller and smaller until you can’t hold it without your hand hurting

2. Mechanical Pencil

Pros

If the eraser gets used too much, you can get a replacement!

No need for a sharpener

Always the same size

Sleek n sexy

Not as cheap as No. 2 pencils, but still really cheap

Little to no smearing whatsoever

Cons

Clickclickclickclick

I just put lead in you, why won’t you come out?!

Wait, what size lead does this one take again?

*scribble scribble scribble* *SNAP!* *lead flies away and into the eye of the person sitting next to you*

Banned from some exams because of cheating paranoia

3. Black or Blue Pen

Pros

Can’t run out of lead and no need to sharpen it

Always ready for official documents

Can also be gotten for free at banks and events

Cons

Oh, you made a mistake? It’s forever immortalized. Should’ve gotten the erasable pen.

Cheap ones smear all over your hand and the paper

Ink will come out when you scribble on a nearby paper, but not on the thing you’re actually trying to write on. Time to play the guessing game of, “Did this 5-year-old pen finally run out of ink or is it just being a diva?”

Not recognized by Scantron. But if you use a pen for a Scantron, you earned your suffering

I get that this lecture is boring you, but if you click that pen again, I’m legally and morally obligated to end you right here and right now

4. Gel Pens

Pros

Glitter

Fun, funky colors

Some professors are suckers for seeing handwritten assignments in glitter

Using a gel pen in class? You absolute madman. You have no fears.

No clicking

Nostalgia of being a kid in the early 2000s with no worries

Cons

Even smearier than the blue/black pens

When used consistently, they have a life span of like, 4 months tops before they run out of ink or dry out. Some of them come dried up in the package. Ugh.

Caps get lost

If you bring this to an exam, you are a war criminal

5. Quill

Pros

Are you a vampire, wizard, or a pirate captain? Either way, you’re a fancy bitch. Godspeed!

Doubles as a dramatic murder weapon

You can make the quill yourself

Using one fucks with everyone that sees you in the most delicious way

Cons

Have to bring your own ink, which is messy. Where do you even find ink for this? You might be able to make ink, but I have no idea and I don’t care enough to google at the moment

Feather is fragile

Not portable or practical in any way, shape, or form

6. Fountain pen

Pros

Combines the class and drama of the quill with the portability and practicality of the pen

Makes your handwriting look 1000x sexier. Ideal for love letters.

Can also be a weapon and is the most effective potential murder/self-defense tool on this list. Won’t work on vampires, though

• Calligraphy

Cons

Expensive. The “cheapest” one that I can find is $65

You’re too afraid to use it or take it anywhere because of how expensive it is

Pressure to make your handwriting look way better than it normally does

7. Colored pencil

Pros

Randomly found at the bottom of your bag when you’ve lost all of your other writing utensils or the No. 2 pencil is too short. You have no idea where it came from.

Fun colors!

Same childhood nostalgia as the gel pen without the smearing

Sometimes glittery

Cons

Needs sharpened and is way softer than the No. 2 pencil, so you have to sharpen it every 5 minutes

Only acceptable in desperate times like when I wrote my wedding vows in colored pencil. I’m not joking.

If you’ve gotten to the point of using this, this semester probably isn’t going too well for you. It’ll be okay, I promise. You’ll get through this. I believe in you! ❤️

[crayonurchin]

Simple Christmas Gifts

@theamishpirate

“Aaaaand there! Anoth’r done!”

Applying a croissant sticker over the seal of the envelope, Sandy placed the letter on the steadily growing pile, and crossed another name off the list. Over halfway done! Another couple hours and he’d be ready to go-

“Sandy?”

Sandy’s turned towards the voice, and saw Crayon, in oversized hand-me-down pyjamas, standing in the doorway next to the clock. Which read 11.43pm.

Oops.

“Aw heck, didn’t mean ter wake ya, Bumble Fluff! Y’all need anythin’?” The blond queeried. The redhead shook his head, pushing the orange waves out of his eyes with a curled hand, rubbing his tired eyes in the process.

“Are you coming up soon?”

“Just as soon as ah’m finished up with these here cards. Nothin’ better than wakin’ up on Christmas mornin’ to a fancy new card just for you!”

…

“Soon as I’m done, cross m’heart”

Drawing the little little cross symbol on his chest seemed to satisfy Crayon, who after checking that the milk and cookies were still perfectly place on the windowsill for Santa, pattered back up the stairs.

Sandy smiled in the quiet serenity, before turning back to the pile. The window rattled slightly as the wind outside picked up, whipping the snow around with it.

There really was something truly special about waking up to a fresh and personalised card on Christmas morning, and by golly he wasn’t going to leave anybody out!

Determined, he grabbed a blank card with the empty ice cream container of various craft items, and opened a scented gel pen with his teeth.

___

Years of practice had taught Sandy how to open and close doors without making a sound. Even with the wind against him, the house stayed as silent as the street around him as he made his way to his first destination. The Sandy Chores canvas bag, with a plastic shopping bag around it for water safety, flapped at his side as the gale had its way with every loose piece of clothing about him. His scarfed danced, his bobble hat threatened to fly away, and his hoodie strings somehow always managed to flick into his left eye.

The street lamps had already been on since 4pm, but hours past the witching hour they seemed to get lost in the blackness of the night. The sky was starless, thick with clouds that dispensed the diagonally blowing snow, and where people had shovelled their pathways had already filled almost completely in.

Heck and beans, it sure was a cold night.

Thankful he had the sense to don his wellingtons and not his trainers, he trudged his way as quickly as he could to the first house, thankfully not too far away- Merriweather’s Cafe.

Fumbling to get his gloves off, he found the croissant sticker envelope, and gently slid it under the door.

Warmth blossomed deep within his chest, spreading into his limbs and un-numbing his nose and ears. Thinking of Merriweather come morning, coffee in hand, doing that smile with the cocked eyebrow she always did at him as she read the paragraph of Christmas spirit he’d written all about her and little Meadow Lark. How she’d not say much, but put it up by the cash register, making sure it didn’t fall throughout the day.

One down. A heck of a lot more to go.

___

The snow had calmed by about 5am, making it much easier to walk about, but having the downside of not keeping him as awake as it had. Sandy’s jaw clicked with yet another yawn, as he finally turned back onto his street.

He paused at a public bin, and turned out his canvas bag. A few pieces of litter fell out- with it empty of all cards, it didn’t hurt to tidy up where you could.

A few homes had been a little tricky- While it was technically Christmas morning, it just didn’t feel like morning had properly come until you woke up. Pelagosa and her dad had still been up, as had Solo Act and a couple others, so he’d had to deliver to a few others off the route plan before doubling back and seeing if their lights had finally turned off, and sliding the cards under door frames and through letter boxes.

While the sun hadn’t risen just yet, a glow was beginning to peak over the hills, and the first hints of orange were making their way into the sky.

Sandy sleepily smiled.

Merry Christmas.

Sure, cards weren’t big shiny toys, but his ma had always told him it’s quality, not quantity that counted. Folks that liked things bookish got themselves a big ol’ paragraph, the sillier ones got piles of glitter and scented stickers. Folks who weren’t too good with words got themselves magazine cutouts of things they liked.

Crayon was going to love all the cat pictures he’d found and carefully tucked into his card, already under the decorated bonzai tree in the main room-

Aw heck, the milk and cookies! They were still on his windowsill, untouched!

Now much more awake, Sandy picked up the pace, kicking up snow and speeding towards his home.

Almost skidding on the ice, he rounded the corner to his drive, and collided with a cloaked figure.

“Woah!”

Landing hard on his rear, Sandy continued backwards, and all but buried himself in the fresh fluff of the new snow. Thankfully his face was near numb by this point, though the cold still came as a shock.

“Oh gosh- sorry!! I didn’t see you- what are you doing outside?”

A hand grabbed his, and yanked him up with considerable strength, fast enough to dizzy him a little. Shaking his head of spins and snow, he looked at the stranger’s concerned face

“Ms Lilyfeather??”

His face stopped being cold very quickly.

“W-what are you doin’ here? Lord above- you must be freezing! Here come on inside, I’ll whip you up some hot cocoa-”

“No no, thank you Sandy but no I can’t stay, I just came to drop off this- I was going to leave it on the doorstep as a surprise but- here.” She reached behind her and pulled a lidded basket out of the snow, brushed off the most offensive of it, and handed it to him.

“Oh uh- uh uh- uh thanks Ms Lilyfeather, that’s ah- ah awful kind- you sure you can’t stay for some hot cocoa?”

Lilyfeather giggled (that darling, sugar sweet giggle..) and shook her head.

“Sorry, there’s prep to be done for Christmas dinner- Oh! Oh you two should drop by for it! I insist, 4pm, sharp!”

With a quick, tight hug, she adjusted the bow of her cloak, and made her merry way back onto the street

“You can bring by some of your cocoa!”

And she was gone.

Stunned, Sandy blinked a few times before registering things.

He looked down at the basket. Her best picnic one, with the red and white checkered ribbon around the handle.

Santa’s Cookies and milk.

As quick as quiet allowed, Sandy slipped back into the house, and almost melted at the change in temperature, audibly sighing in relief. He stripped the dripping scarf, hoodie and boots, darted to the plate and glass and artfully cleared both, then set the basket on the table and grabbing his pyjamas off the kitchen chair.

There. It never looked like he’d left the house!

Perfect timing, the sound of creaking floorboards sounded above him. Crayon would be down soon.

The prospect of spending Christmas morning sleepless wasn’t super appealing, but Sandy couldn’t help but feel giddy; the magic of the day was already filling the room.

His eyes turned back to the basket. Pressing the kettle on and readying two mugs, he lifted open the lid and peered inside.

Wrapped daintily in a checkered cloth that matched the basket’s ribbons, were 10 sugar cookies. Simple circles with royal icing. And writing.

Sandy picked them up, one by one, gently between his thumb and forefinger, and read the sugary messages.

“You’re doing a great job!”

“I’m happy we’re friends!”

“Your laugh is infectious!”

“You bring me up!”

“I want to hang out!”

“You’re so funny!”

“You’re an inspiration!”

“You bring out the best in people!”

“I’m glad you’re here!”

“You deserve great things!”

“Sandy! Sandy look, Santa came!”

Quickly drying his eyes on his sleeve, he watched Crayon all but bounce about, holding the half empty glass and plate, face stretched in a huge grin.

“Merry Christmas Sandy! Uh, my present isn’t done yet, can you open it later? Oh, what’s that? Is that what Santa brought?” He pointed to the basket at Sandy’s side. Sandy looked at it for a moment, then with an equally giant smile, grabbed Crayon’s hands and bounced with him.

“Yes, it is!”

(HUGE THANK YOU TO @neverstopsreading for editing the spelling and grammar of this)

((feel better soon, pirate man :D ))

@techmomma

@askmerriauthor

@kajeaynart

[boxyladies]

There have been a few Sephora sales lately and as you might have assumed, I’ve picked some things up. But I’ve also gotten some things in the last several months that I’m not sure I’ve shared with y’all so I wanted to give y’all a roundup of some random products and what I think of them. (Obviously.) I know this might seem like a lot of things, but I want to stress that this has been spread over the last several months, not just like, one huge purchase, and the most expensive things were likely bought with 20% off! I also have gotten several eyeshadow palettes recently, but I am going to do a big palette roundup in the next few weeks where I swatch everything, so that’s going to take a bit of time. But I definitely have enough palettes for a big post, so stay tuned for that!

Ole Henriksen Glow Brightly Radiance-Boosting Super Set ($49): As y’all know, I have been a Drunk Elephant devotee for a long time but I tend to go back to Ole Henriksen pretty regularly, because I really enjoy their Truth Serum, which is their vitamin C serum. I think it’s a really nice serum, and it’s less expensive than drunk elephant. This set in particular included the following:

– 1 oz/ 30 mL Truth Serum – 0.25 oz/ 7 mL Goodnight Glow Retin-ALT Sleeping Crème – 0.25 oz/ 7 mL Banana Bright Eye Crème – 0.5 oz/ 15 mL C-Rush Brightening Gel Crème

I really like ALL of these products, so I feel like this set is a steal. However, I have not yet tried the Goodnight Glow Retin-ALT Sleeping Crème. Right now I have it on back up after I run out of my Sunday Riley Luna Night Oil. However, I love all the rest of these products, and I’m excited to get more of them!

Urban Decay Naked Skin One & Done Hybrid Foundation ($36): As I mentioned, I’ve been on a quest for lightweight foundations, and I decided to try one of Urban Decay’s less popular foundations, as this is sort of like a tinted moisturizer/bb cream. However, this is oil-free, so it wears nicely on me, very similarly to the Dior Backstage. I need to test both a bit more to see if the Urban Decay is a dupe, but even if it is, it’s not much more expensive, plus, the Dior has a MUCH better shade range. However, I do like this, and I’m happy with it.

Dior Backstage Face and Body Foundation in 1 Neutral ($40): I have been on a quest to try new lightweight foundations, since that’s my jam now, and after watching a bunch of reviews of this, decided to try it when it went on sale. I initially got this foundation in shade 2 Neutral, and it was too dark, so I ended up getting it in 1 Neutral and it looks better. When there are 40 shades, I don’t always assume I am the lightest, but I need to remember that I am. I’ve worn this about a week, and I feel like my skin has looked really nice. It feels very lightweight, like I’m not wearing much at all, but I feel like it really evens out my skintone. I’ve been wearing this with the Too Faced Peach Perfect Mattifying Setting Powder (below) and I haven’t really even had to touch up my face all day long!

Too Faced Peach Perfect Mattifying Setting Powder ($33): I bought this as an impulse, because I saw a few people with a similar skin-type to me (combo) say that they really like it, and I thought that maybe I could try it out. It’s a bit peachier than the more ivory Laura Mercier setting powder, which I was using previously. I’ve been using a very light dusting on this all over my light foundations, and to set my concealer under my eyes, and it’s kept my makeup looking really nice all day. It’s definitely matte, but it doesn’t look dry or cakey. Also, it smells like peaches, and weirdly, tastes like peaches? I do not know why they did that, but it does. I discovered that by accident. I don’t recommend this as an appetizer.

Yves St. Laurent Touche Eclat Radiance Perfecting Pen ($38): This is the product that I’ve used the least out of everything on this list, as I’ve only used it a few times. So far… I’m not really impressed, but I want to give it another few tries. I’m not sure if I just didn’t use enough, but I don’t think it did much. I don’t have serious dark circles so I don’t need a heavy duty concealer but it’s entirely possible that I need more than what this is. This is a product that used to have a lot of hype but I never tried it til now, and I’m just… not totally sold.

Yves St. Laurent Tatouage Couture Liquid Matte Lip Stain in 15 Violet Conviction ($37): This might be the hero product out of everything I got. I actually was trying to buy a set of three of these lipsticks that I am almost sure existed on the Sephora site, but of course disappeared during the sale. But anyway, this is more of a stain than a drying liquid lipstick. I decided to really go for it and get a dark shade and it wore really well during the day. I could add more on top without things getting crumbly or weird after I ate. The applicator helped give me a really crisp line, tho with like all dark/red lip colors like this, I tend to touch up around the edges with concealer. I really want to get more shades of this! Maybe a red next? I just love this formula so much!

This isn’t the best picture in the world, as I didn’t take it for blog use, but I realized too late that it was the only pic with this lipstick, so it will do. I think a lip swatch is better than an arm swatch! (Also pictured is the Hourglass Scattered Light Eyeshadow in Smoke, described below.)

Laneige Kiss and Make Up Set ($28): I am getting repetitive in this blog, but I totally love this lip mask, and this set contained a full-size version, (yay!) and then a few minis in different flavors! I could have broken this set up for gifts but… I didn’t.

Urban Decay Heavy Metal Glitter Liner in Grind & Distortion ($20): I have been really into these glitter liners because you can use these in a bunch of different ways. Obviously you could really line your eyes with them if you wanted to, as it has a small brush tip. But I really like using it to put some glitter in my inner corner, or you can just paint the whole dang lid with glitter pretty easily. Grind has a bit more blue/green translucent glitter, and Distortion is a bit more pinky. It’s so hard (for me) to take good pics of glitter swatches but I did my best!

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Hourglass Scattered Light Glitter Eyeshadow in Smoke ($29): More glitter! But this is the most beautiful, elegant way to wear glitter I’ve ever seen! I am really angry because I wanted to get all of the colors of this during the sale but of course they are sold out. But this particular shade is a bit more taupe/cool-toned and the glitters are so tiny, that they almost look like a glossy sheen. I need all the colors! Why is life. I need the champagne-y shade soooo bad!

Becca Shimmering Skin Perfector Pressed Highlighter Mini Macaron Set ($40): I bought one of the full-sizes of one of the included highlighters and then when I saw this set, I realized I could get 4 mini-highlighters for about the price of one big one, and decided to go that route! I had never tried Opal before, which is one of their flagship shades, and it’s a pretty bright highlight. But Vanilla Quartz is very much the highlight for me. It looks white, but it has sort of a gold-peachy shift that is just gorgeous. There is also a pink-y highlighter and a more lavender one, that I don’t love as much for cheek highlights but I think are great inner corner highlights for a bit of a pop!

(When I did the swatch below, my arm was stained in between Prismatic Amethyst and Vanilla Quartz from the YSL lipstick above. I only had it on my arm for a few minutes and it stained that quickly. But that’s a feature more than a bug, obvs.)

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Whew. That was a lot. Did I pick up anything you had your eye on? What have you picked up at Sephora lately? Tell me in the comments because I want to know everything. (I’m nosy.)

xo, Lauren

Purchased; All opinions are my own Post contains affiliate links

Random Shiz I’ve Gotten From Sephora Lately There have been a few Sephora sales lately and as you might have assumed, I've picked some things up.

[annbrighthaus-blog]

You can almost hear the tears of kids everywhere this time of year because of the inevitable BACK-TO-SCHOOL. Some parents are secretly jumping for joy to get their kids back on a routine, while some are dreading the early morning chaos and afternoon homework struggles. But I do think one thing is common for most of us, and that’s our love of brand new fun products! In partnership with Avery, we’ve rounded up some of our faves to give you a head start!

Avery Products Corporation has teamed up with Universal Brand Development to launch two new collections of durable school and organization supplies featuring officially licensed Despicable Me & DreamWorks Trolls designs. Featuring vibrant colors and upbeat slogans on Avery binders, dividers, folders and glue sticks, these school essentials will help keep students organized and inspired. Everyone will be envious of these adorable supplies!

The Avery® Despicable Me Collection showcases the mischievous, banana-loving Minions on Avery binders, dividers, folders and glue sticks – equipping kids with the supplies they need to stay organized during the school year, and with fun Minion-themed designs to make the school year a blast. We LOVE these!

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For those who use skate boards to travel to and from school, this is just awesome. Locker Board is a non-folding skateboard that fits inside a backpack! They are made from recycled decks with high-end custom wheels, trucks and steel bearings. Super awesome.

These are so darn cute that  you may want to get a set for yourself. They are adorable “punny” 2-piece notebook sets from The Neighborgoods. Your kids will love the “Avo Nice Day” “Get Figgy with it” while you can jot down notes in the “cheesy ideas” notebooks. And we love that the are printed using vegetable based ink and 100% wind energy!

Although summer break is over, you still need to protect your child’s skin from the sun’s harsh rays. Why not let your child’s sparkle come out! Seastar Sparkle SPF 50+ Party Cake with Rainbow Glitter provides broad spectrum UVA/UVB protection and is PABA and Paraban free. Did I mention it smells delicious too? Oh, and check out the Glitter Kissed SPF 50+ Lipgloss with Glitter too!

For your little one, an adorable backpack and accessories are a necessity. We LOVE the Back To School Zoo Collection from Skip Hop. Your toughest decision will be which one to choose. We happen to adore the hippo but you can’t go wrong with any of these!

If your child is anxious or stressed, try this adorable puppy weighted lap pad. The weight of the Huggaroo plush puppy lap pad can lower your child’s anxiety and help induce a sense of calmness. This may also help your child focus on homework. The brown puppy is so adorable that your child will love this soft and snuggly (and helpful) friend!

We love washable pens so here are two of our favorites. The Take Note! Washable Gel Pens feature a smooth, streak-free gel formula and ergonomic, cushioned-grip while the Take Note! Erasable Highlighters have bright colors on one end, with clear ink tips on the other end to magically erase the colorful highlights. How cool is that??

When it comes to our zero waste lunchbox favorite – it’s U Konserve Nesting Trio. These reusable BPA-free stainless steel storage containers have leak-resistant plastic lids so you don’t have to worry about cleaning up spillage in the ‘ol lunchbox. They nest for easy storage which is AWESOME. The sizes are perfect for crackers, nuts, veggies and pretty much any snack.

We love recyclable containers for school lunches, but certain items really are better suited for a plastic baggy. Well, here’s a fabulous solution – Smelly Proof’s reusable and durable baggies. Not only can you wash them, but they are thicker than typical bags so they don’t tear and they keep food stay fresh longer (with no odor!).

Tired of your child losing articles of clothing and don’t feel like ironing on name tags? Well, Mabel’s Labels just launched a new brilliant product. It’s a Custom Clothing Stamp! With one quick press of the pre-loaded with ink stamp, you can personalize shorts, shirts, socks and more in no time! No mess and no tags needed!

One of the downsides of back to school are those pesky germs. Luckily Clean Well makes a hand sanitizer that kills germs with no harsh chemicals that actually leaves your skin soft with a nice scent. NICE. Throw a 1 oz pocket-sized spray in your purse and your child’s backpack and keep those germs away!

It’s perfectly normal for your kids to have back-to-school jitters. Sometimes their nerves will keep them from getting a good night’s sleep. If this is the case, then check out  Oilogic essential oil roll-ons that can help your little one get the zz’s they need to succeed. Made with 100% natural ingredients (so no harsh chemicals), roll-on your child’s skin and the oil aroma will work it’s magic.

Nobody wants blackheads when they are headed to school so check out Bioré® Skincare’s new Limited Edition Citrus Crush Deep Cleansing Pore Strips. It’s a mouthful, but boy do they work! Infused with a citrus scent, these strips lift out deep-down grime, oil and blackheads from your pores. The strip fits perfectly on your nose to ensure no pores escape! Only available in-store through November, 2018.