#charcoal peel off mask

[cosworld-in]

Purify Your Skin with a Charcoal Peel-Off Mask

Uncover a clearer, more radiant complexion with a Charcoal Peel-Off Mask! Infused with activated charcoal, this mask deeply cleanses your pores, drawing out dirt, oil, and impurities for a smoother, fresher look. Ideal for oily and combination skin, it helps reduce blackheads and blemishes while leaving your skin feeling purified and refreshed. The peel-off action exfoliates dead skin cells, revealing a brighter, more even complexion. Easy to apply and satisfying to remove, this mask is the perfect addition to your skincare routine for a deep, detoxifying treatment. Get ready to glow!

[liliumcosmetics-blog]

Blackheads can be a persistent issue for many people, making the skin look dull and clogged. Among the various skincare products available, charcoal peel off masks have gained immense popularity for their effectiveness in removing blackheads and improving skin texture Read more at https://medium.com/@liliumcosmeticsmarketing/top-5-benefits-of-using-charcoal-peel-off-masks-for-blackhead-removal-3dcf721eaa06

[makeupreviewandbeautyblog]

Charcoal Peel off Mask Benefits: How to Apply and What to Know

Activated charcoal is one of the most popular ingredients in skincare regime and is widely used in multiple products like soap, facewash, cleansers to scrubs. A charcoal face peel has multiple benefits be it to enhance beauty or treat an insect bite and heal the skin. Activated charcoal is activated carbon which is a fine black powder that’s produced when common charcoal is exposed to high heat.…

[terrainofheartfelt]

On day 3 of this tattoo like save me aquaphor. Aquaphor save me. Save me aquaphor.

[brood-mother]

i have fic ready to be posted but i'm on mobile and im fighting a losing battle trying to edit/format on a tiny smashed screen that's 1/3rd dead so. guess it can wait for the weekend

[awidthapart]

bought a new sketchbook that arrived a few days after christmas and impulsively had to doodle this for the first page lol

[bluemoonbabes]

In 1.08, Agent Brill peeling off other Brill’s face and using it as a facial mask reminds me of those smiling salami slices.

It’s his skincare routine 💅✨

[writingoddess1125]

You Give them Face Mask! 🧼

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, Buggy, Mihawk

Fluffy Fluff

Just felt like more Fluff Fluff rn 😌 Enjoy!

Luffy

Trying to get this man into a face mask is like trying to wash a puppy- A happy struggle and pain in the ass.

"Luffy please" You say with a sad eyes- He will fold after this and let you. However he doesn't sit still so you use a sheet mask that simply helps with oily skin.

"This smells nice" He will say as you have to bribe him with snacks to keep it on for 15 minutes.

"It's rose scented" You say and wear one yourself to keep him still with some gummy candies. Will have trouble sitting still and will start chatting and walking in circles as he waits.

Once it's over he rubs his shiny face and talks about how squeaky he sounds. Utterly destroying your work-

Sanji

Sanji is more then willing to indulge you. Picking out some mild scents and you do a peel off mask since he has deep pores.

"Wanna do the charcoal mask?" You offer which he accepts after finding the scent pleasant enough.

"Do people do these often?" He will flirt and talk about the curiosities in your self care. Once the mask is done he will complain about the tightness.

"That means it's ready to peel!!"

"AHHH! OW!!?" He yelps in surprise as you pull the mask off his face. His face bright red and raw from this so you add some water based moisturizer to his face. You show him the mask.

"That was in my face!?"

Will both be disgusted and fascinated by the amount of gunk pulled from his skin.

Zoro

His skin is fairly flawless which is honestly frustrating since he cares so little for his skin.

You offer the face mask anyway and he refuses for a while bit does eventually fold. You use a snail slime mask on him since it will keep him skin looking flawless.

"This smells funny..." He grumbles as he will lay there listening to you talk, Half asleep and waiting. Will open his eye occasionally and ask a few questions about your interest in this stuff.

You wipe it off and help him rince his face. Skin is pretty much glowing at this point and You stare in awe. "So pretty!"

"I'm going to go train now-" You scream at him in protest in trying to ruin his pretty face.

Usopp

Usopp is willing of course, since the ocean air drys his skin quite a lot. So you use a shea butter face mask and tap his skin with your fingers to help it soak in his rough skin.

"You know I once got a spa treatment from Mermaids like this-' He will spin his tales as You work. When you do rince off the mask you add some nice skin oils afterwards to his skin.

You rub a lot of oil in his skin and he will pause his stories as he judt enjoys the time. Will smell the jar you're using and a softness will run over his face in fondness.

"This smells like the stuff my mother used to use-" He will say with a smile. His skin looks shiny and golden by the time your done, making him look sexy- in his own words.

Will come back regularly to have you treat his skin and will even talk about stories with his mother from time to time.

Buggy

Grease paint wrecks havoc on one's skin Buggys especially since he wears it so much. Needs some detoxing clay mask then a aloe moisture one to replenish. If you're doing his face might as well deep condition his hair as well.

He does enjoy the attention and doing them since his face feels better. Secretly he actually has acne marks from his youth and some scars from before he ate a devil fruit.

"What was this one from?" You ask pointing to a light scar on his cheek.

"Hmm 10- Me and Shanks were trying to figure out blades better. Let's say I learned knives can bounce back at you-" He says amused and letting you work.

"The skin around your nose is dry" Buggy will frown, thinking you're about to insult him since even though he trust you the most his insecurities will win- till you carefully paint the mask on those areas and smile proudly.

"There we go, all better" You say and kiss his hand to go apply your own.

Will sit and listen to you read outloud or talk with him about show ideas as he lays there with the face mask.

"Can we do this every night?"

Mihawk

"No-" He will protest, his eyes narrowing as you offer the mask to him. However after enough begging and ever Perona joining in at pestering him he will fold.

Mihawk gets treated to a full spa day when this happens- A hydrating honey facemask on his skin, cucumbers on his eyes and even a hair mask in his hair to make it softer.

Perona is overjoyed as well as she cleans his nails and applies clear polish to make them shiny and nice! Grumbles the whole time silently and ends up Downing a bottle of wine.

"Do not get used to this-" He grumbles as he takes his wine and drinks from it as you and Perona work. He kinda looks like a spa mom-

Once done this man looks runway ready- His hair is much softer so sets lower, his skin flawless and even his beard looks nicer. Stares at you and Perona deadpanned and sighs-

"Thank you both for the nice gesture..."

[hurriane23456]

Through Another’s Eyes

Elliot Bennett had always thought his job was peculiar, to say the least. He worked at Mimic Studio, a company renowned for its hyper-realistic masks. These weren’t the kind of masks you’d find at a costume shop; they were masterpieces, crafted with such precision that they transformed the wearer entirely. Each came with a full outfit, contact lenses to match the eye color, and shoes to complete the look. Mimic catered to movie studios, high-end cosplayers, and a few private clients who didn’t explain why they needed to look like someone else.

Elliot was a junior marketing intern, responsible for social media posts. He wasn’t an artist; and never got close to the merchandise. That evening, he found himself alone at the studio, the whirring machines and half-finished molds silent around him. It was rare for him to have the space to himself, and as he walked into the Mask Room, he couldn’t help but feel the pull of curiosity.

The Mask Room was where the completed works were displayed—rows and rows of lifelike faces suspended on mannequin heads. The designs ranged from average-looking men to strikingly handsome models. The outfits accompanying them hung nearby, tailored to perfection. Elliot’s eyes landed on a mask he’d never seen before: a rugged, stubbled face with piercing blue eyes and a square jaw. The tag read: "Jason – Outdoorsman."

He hesitated but finally gave in, locking the door to ensure no one walked in on him.

Elliot unhooked the mask and carried it to the changing area. The accompanying outfit was folded neatly beside it: a flannel shirt, distressed jeans, and brown hiking boots. His fingers tingled with excitement and nerves as he stripped out of his work clothes, standing in just his socks before pulling on the jeans. They fit snugly, hugging his legs in a way that made him glance at himself in the full-length mirror.

The flannel shirt was next—soft, perfectly worn in, and rolled up at the cuffs. He slipped on the boots, their weight and rugged soles giving him the impression he’d just come back from a mountain hike.

Now for the mask.

Elliot picked it up, marveling at the detail: the faint freckles across the nose, the hint of crow’s feet at the corners of the eyes. He stretched it gently, noticing how pliable yet durable the material felt, before slipping it over his head. The inside was cool against his skin, and he adjusted the edges until they blended perfectly with his neck.

When he looked in the mirror, he gasped. Jason the Outdoorsman stared back at him. Elliot popped in the blue contact lenses, completing the transformation. His reflection didn’t just look like someone else—it felt like someone else. He smirked, tilting his head, running a hand over the stubble that felt impossibly real.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. He rolled his shoulders, suddenly feeling like he could chop wood or trek through a forest.

He could’ve stopped there, but the thrill was addictive. Elliot peeled off the mask reluctantly, placed it back on its stand, and scanned the shelves for his next choice. His eyes landed on "Mason – Business Tycoon."

The outfit was a three-piece suit: charcoal gray with a crisp white shirt, a silk tie, and polished black dress shoes. Elliot stripped down again, feeling a bit silly standing in his boxers in the sterile studio, but excitement overpowered his hesitation.

The suit fit him like a glove, the fabric smooth and expensive against his skin. He adjusted the tie, the Windsor knot sitting perfectly at his throat. The shoes, shiny enough to see his reflection, clicked satisfyingly on the tiled floor.

Mason’s mask was next. It had a clean-shaven jaw, slightly tanned skin, and sharp cheekbones. Once he slipped it on, he inserted the hazel contact lenses and stared at himself.

He looked powerful. Confident. Like a man who owned skyscrapers and never took no for an answer. He straightened his tie in the mirror and let out a low laugh.

“What’s my next big deal?” he joked to himself, his voice deep and commanding.

By now, Elliot was fully immersed in the game. He pulled Mason off, carefully reassembling the set, and reached for something more daring. His hand hovered over a mask labeled "Ryan – Rock Star."

The outfit was bold: ripped black jeans, a leather jacket, a fitted black T-shirt, and combat boots. There were even accessories—silver rings, a chain necklace, and sunglasses.

Slipping into the clothes felt like stepping into a different world. The leather jacket was buttery soft, the rings cool against his fingers. He placed the sunglasses on top of his head, letting them rest in his tousled brown wig—the mask came with hair this time, styled in perfectly disheveled waves.

Ryan’s face had a roguish smirk, a faint scar above his eyebrow, and piercing green eyes. Once he had the mask on, Elliot completed the look with the green lenses and stepped back.

He didn’t just look like a rock star. He felt like one. He struck a pose, pretending to hold a guitar, and laughed.

“This is insane,” he muttered, his voice raspy and full of swagger.

Elliot was riding a high. Each transformation was more thrilling than the last. He could feel the studio’s silence around him, but it only heightened the sense of intimacy with his newfound game. Placing the rock star set carefully back on its stand, he scanned the rows for his next choice.

His gaze landed on something unusual: a mask labeled "Liam – Athlete." The mannequin head sported a short buzz cut and a face glistening with sweat, as if Liam had just finished a grueling workout.

The outfit was a basketball jersey and matching shorts, complete with a pair of size-13 sneakers. A duffel bag sat beside the mannequin, holding accessories like a wristband and a water bottle.

Elliot couldn’t resist. He stripped down and pulled on the jersey and shorts. They felt cool and lightweight, clinging to his body in a way that made him acutely aware of every movement. The sneakers were enormous compared to his regular size, but they fit perfectly, thanks to the padding built into the soles.

The mask was different from the others—it came with a slight sheen, replicating the effect of perspiration. Elliot slipped it on, adjusting it carefully, and popped in the brown contact lenses.

The mirror revealed someone who looked fresh off a basketball court: a chiseled jawline, a confident smirk, and broad shoulders that seemed almost too big to be his own. Elliot flexed an arm experimentally, laughing at how the mask made his wiry frame appear like a professional athlete’s.

“Game on,” he said, his voice carrying a new edge.

As he returned Liam’s set to its place, Elliot felt something shift. The masks weren’t just disguises anymore; they were identities. Each time he looked in the mirror, he felt less like Elliot and more like the man staring back.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over a shelf filled with more masks. Should he stop? He shook his head. No one was here to judge him. He could stop whenever he wanted.

His fingers brushed against a mask labeled "Dominic – Undercover Agent." The face was rugged, with a five o’clock shadow and a slight scar running down one cheek. The outfit was a tactical ensemble: a black turtleneck, combat pants, and utility boots. A leather holster and fake earpiece completed the look.

This time, Elliot didn’t hesitate. He undressed quickly, feeling a rush as he pulled on the tactical pants and secured the belt around his waist. The turtleneck hugged his frame, making him feel both sleek and dangerous.

The boots were heavier than the others, clunking solidly on the floor as he paced. Finally, he pulled on Dominic’s mask, the material molding perfectly to his features. The scar added an air of danger, and the steely gray contact lenses gave his gaze an intensity that made him shiver.

When he stared into the mirror, Elliot felt like a stranger to himself. He reached for the holster, strapping it across his chest, and slid the fake earpiece into place.

“Agent Bennett,” he whispered to himself, testing the new persona. He turned sharply, pretending to clear a room, his movements sharp and precise.

Elliot’s exhilaration outweighed his caution. He scanned the shelves for one last transformation, his eyes landing on a mask labeled "Malik – Urban Legend."

The mask was striking, with smooth dark skin, a neatly shaped beard, and bold features that radiated charisma. The accompanying outfit hung nearby: an oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, and a pair of pristine white sneakers. A thick gold chain rested on the mannequin's chest, completing the ensemble.

Elliot hesitated for a moment. The set was unlike anything he’d tried before, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty. But the thrill was irresistible.

Stripping down, he reached for the hoodie first. It was heavy and warm, the fabric thick enough to feel substantial. He tugged it over his head, the hood settling comfortably around his neck. The jeans were loose, pooling slightly around the tops of the sneakers when he slipped them on. The chain was the final touch, cool against his chest.

Now for the mask.

Elliot picked it up carefully, noting the incredible detail: the texture of the skin, the subtle highlights on the nose and cheekbones, the natural sheen of the beard. Sliding it over his face, he adjusted it until it fit seamlessly. The brown contact lenses were a perfect match for the mask’s warm, expressive eyes.

When he turned to the mirror, the transformation was complete.

Elliot barely recognized himself. Malik’s broad shoulders and confident stance felt worlds apart from his usual frame. The oversized clothes emphasized a casual, effortless style that made him look like he belonged on a street corner or a music video set. He smirked, leaning into the persona.

“What’s up?” he muttered, deepening his voice. He laughed, shaking his head at how different he sounded.

He struck a pose, pulling the hood up over his head, and turned sideways in the mirror. The way the sneakers gleamed under the fluorescent lights added to the image, making him feel like someone who turned heads wherever he went.

Elliot was so absorbed in Malik’s reflection that he didn’t hear the faint click of the studio door unlocking.

-----

“Elliot. What are you doing?”

The voice froze him in place. He spun around, heart pounding, to see Mr. Calloway, his supervisor, standing in the doorway with one eyebrow raised. Calloway’s sharp suit and polished shoes looked completely out of place in the dimly lit studio, but his expression was impossible to misread: curiosity, amusement, and just a hint of annoyance.

“Uh… I… I was just, uh… testing the fit,” Elliot stammered. The deep voice of Malik spilled out of his mouth, making his excuse sound even more absurd.

Calloway took a step forward, folding his arms as he looked Elliot up and down. “Testing the fit, huh?” His lips twitched into a small smirk. “Well, you do look good, I’ll give you that.”

Elliot’s cheeks burned under the mask. He started to peel it off, fumbling with the edges.

“Stop.”

The command made him freeze. Calloway tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful.

“Put the hood back up,” he said.

Elliot hesitated, then obeyed, pulling the hood over his head again. Calloway paced slowly around him, inspecting the outfit from every angle.

“Hm,” Calloway said finally. “I always wondered how these looked in action. You wear it well.”

Elliot shifted awkwardly. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

Calloway waved a hand, cutting him off. “Relax. I’m not mad. But since you’re already having fun…” He gestured to the rows of masks. “Pick one out for me.”

Elliot blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly. “What?”

“You heard me,” Calloway said, a glint of mischief in his eye. “If you’re going to play dress-up, let’s see what you can do with me.”

“You want me to… pick one?” Elliot asked, dumbfounded.

Calloway shrugged. “I’ve always been curious about these things. Might as well indulge.”

Elliot hesitated, but Calloway’s expectant look made it clear he wasn’t joking. Elliot scanned the shelves, searching for something drastically different from Calloway’s usual polished, buttoned-up look. His eyes landed on a set labeled "Jax – The Punk Rebel."

The mask had a youthful, edgy vibe: messy black hair with streaks of electric blue, a pierced eyebrow, and sharp cheekbones. The outfit was equally bold: a black leather jacket covered in studs, a ripped band T-shirt, tight black jeans, and heavy combat boots. A chain dangled from the pants, and fingerless gloves completed the look.

Elliot hesitated for a moment before pulling it down. He held it up with a small smirk. “How about this one?”

Calloway raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “You want me to dress like that?”

“Well,” Elliot said, a little braver now, “you did say you wanted to try something different.”

Calloway sighed but took the set. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Elliot stepped back as Calloway began changing. Watching his boss trade in his tailored suit for tight jeans and a leather jacket was surreal. The combat boots added a heavy stomp to his normally quiet, calculated steps.

Finally, Calloway picked up the mask. The punk's wild hair and defiant smirk were a far cry from his usual clean-cut look. He adjusted it carefully, making sure the edges fit perfectly before popping in the bright blue contact lenses.

When Calloway turned to the mirror, Elliot couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Well?” Calloway asked, his voice a deep rasp that suited the rebellious persona. He adjusted the leather jacket, striking a mockingly defiant pose. “How do I look?”

“Like someone who’d get kicked out of their own office,” Elliot joked, still grinning.

Calloway chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got a strange sense of humor, Bennett.” He stepped closer to the mirror, inspecting the transformation. “I have to admit, this is… fun. A little ridiculous, but fun.”

Before Elliot could answer, the studio door creaked open again. Both he and Calloway froze, the playful mood evaporating instantly. They turned toward the sound, expecting to see a coworker or perhaps security. Instead, a man in a black uniform with the company logo stepped inside, clipboard in hand.

It was Frank, the head of inventory.

Frank looked up and froze in his tracks, his eyes widening as he took in the scene: Elliot still wearing Malik’s oversized hoodie and baggy jeans, and Calloway transformed into Jax, the punk rebel.

“What the hell is going on here?” Frank demanded, his voice sharp.

Elliot’s stomach sank. Calloway, however, didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, his combat boots thudding heavily on the floor, and gave Frank a mischievous smirk.

“Relax, Frank,” Calloway said, his raspy, rebellious voice a perfect match for the punk persona. “We’re just… testing the merchandise.”

“Testing?” Frank repeated, incredulous. His eyes darted between the two of them. “Do you know how much trouble you could get into for messing with inventory like this? These are high-value items!”

Calloway waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the role he was playing. “Come on, Frank. Don’t act like you’ve never been curious.”

Frank sputtered, clearly caught off guard by Calloway’s brazen attitude. Elliot, meanwhile, stood frozen, unsure whether to defend himself or stay silent.

Then, to Elliot’s shock, Calloway grinned and gestured toward the shelves. “Why don’t you join us? Pick one out. It’s not every day you get to see yourself as someone else.”

Frank blinked, his indignation faltering. “What?”

“You heard me,” Calloway said, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re always talking about inventory this, inventory that. Why not take a closer look? I mean, really experience it.”

Elliot stared at Calloway, his heart racing. Was he seriously inviting Frank to join them?

Frank hesitated, his grip on the clipboard tightening. Then his gaze shifted to the rows of masks, curiosity flickering in his eyes despite himself. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” Calloway said with a shrug. “But you’ve got to admit—it’s tempting.”

Frank sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is a terrible idea.”

“And yet, you’re considering it,” Calloway pointed out, his smirk widening.

After a long pause, Frank set his clipboard down and stepped toward the shelves. Elliot exchanged a wide-eyed look with Calloway, who winked.

“What’s the craziest one here?” Frank muttered under his breath, scanning the options.

Elliot’s anxiety began to shift into a strange excitement as he realized the night had taken a completely unexpected turn.

Frank scanned the shelves, muttering to himself as his eyes darted over the masks. He stopped in front of a set labeled "Boone – The Outland Ranger."

The mask was rugged and wild-looking: sun-kissed skin, a thick unkempt beard, and sharp, weathered features. The outfit hanging nearby was equally striking: a sleeveless leather vest adorned with various patches, a pair of tan cargo pants tucked into scuffed combat boots, and a wide-brimmed hat with a feather stuck into the band. A leather holster with a prop revolver hung at the side, completing the ensemble.

“This one’s ridiculous,” Frank muttered, pulling it off the rack. He turned to Calloway and Elliot, holding it up for them to see. “What do you think?”

Calloway smirked, crossing his arms. “Perfect. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to be a ranger.”

Elliot bit back a grin as Frank sighed, clearly regretting every decision that had brought him here, and began stripping out of his uniform. He folded his shirt neatly, shooting a glare at Calloway when he caught the boss smirking.

The transformation began with the cargo pants, which fit loosely but comfortably. The leather vest was snug, its patches adding a gritty, rebellious touch. Frank hesitated at the holster but eventually strapped it on, adjusting it with a scowl.

Finally, he picked up the mask. It was heavier than he expected, the craftsmanship so detailed it seemed almost alive. He slipped it over his head, adjusting it until the edges vanished seamlessly into his neck. The transformation was instant: the tired, middle-aged inventory manager disappeared, replaced by Boone’s rugged, outdoorsy persona.

Elliot handed him the hazel contact lenses, which Frank inserted with surprising ease. Then he placed the wide-brimmed hat on his head, completing the look.

When Frank turned to the mirror, he froze.

“What the…” His voice was rough and deep, entirely unlike his usual tone. He leaned closer to his reflection, running a gloved hand over the mask’s beard. “This is insane.”

Calloway chuckled. “Told you. Looks good on you, though.”

Frank adjusted the holster, his expression a mix of disbelief and intrigue. “I look like I just stepped out of a western.” He struck a mock pose, drawing the prop revolver from its holster. “Bang, bang,” he muttered, smirking despite himself.

Elliot couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You’re a natural.”

Frank turned to face them, crossing his arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it—this is… kind of cool. But if anyone finds out about this, we’re all getting fired.”

“Only if you don’t look the part,” Calloway teased, adjusting his leather jacket. “Now come on. Let’s see how these characters look together.”

Frank groaned but followed as Calloway led him and Elliot to a larger mirror on the other side of the room. The three of them stood side by side: Calloway as Jax, the rebellious punk; Frank as Boone, the rugged ranger; and Elliot as Malik, the urban legend.

For a moment, the absurdity of the situation faded, replaced by a strange sense of camaraderie.

“You know,” Calloway said, grinning, “we could pull off one hell of a heist looking like this.”

The three stood in front of the mirror, their reflections almost unrecognizable. The transformation wasn’t just physical—it was as though stepping into these personas unlocked something freer in each of them.

Calloway adjusted the chains on his jacket, his smirk now almost cocky. “You know, I’ve been running this place for years, and I’ve never actually tried these on. I gotta admit, they’re pretty incredible.”

Frank snorted, tugging at the brim of his hat. “Yeah, well, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re dressed like a punk rock delinquent.” He gestured toward Calloway’s combat boots. “Those are a far cry from your usual loafers.”

“Hey,” Calloway shot back, “at least I look good. You look like you just walked out of a survivalist convention.”

Elliot chuckled, finally feeling relaxed enough to join the banter. “And I look like I should be running a streetball tournament.” He spread his arms, taking in his oversized hoodie and sneakers. “Guess we’ve all got our alter egos now.”

Frank shook his head, but a small smile crept onto his face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Calloway said, raising an eyebrow. “Frank, look at us. We’re living the dream. For years, people have been buying these masks to become someone else, even just for a moment. And here we are, actually getting to experience it ourselves.”

Frank sighed, leaning against the counter. “You’ve got a point. It’s… kind of fun.” He glanced down at the prop revolver, spinning it idly before sliding it back into the holster. “Not gonna lie, I do feel pretty badass.”

“Exactly!” Calloway said, clapping him on the back. He turned to Elliot. “What about you, Bennett? Feeling like a whole new person?”

Elliot hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do. It’s weird… but in a good way.”

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence, staring at their reflections. For a moment, they weren’t coworkers—they were characters, living in a shared fantasy.

Finally, Calloway broke the silence. “You know, we should make this a team-building exercise. Let everyone try on a mask, get a feel for the product.”

Frank groaned. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can handle seeing Jerry from accounting dressed like a Viking.”

Elliot laughed, picturing it. “Or Martha from HR as a biker chick.”

Calloway chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. But we’ll keep this between us for now. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Frank and Elliot said in unison.

“Good,” Calloway said, straightening his jacket. He turned to the mirror one last time, his expression softening. “Well, gentlemen, if nothing else, this has been a night to remember.”

Frank smirked. “Just as long as no one remembers it tomorrow.”

Elliot grinned, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. For the first time in a long while, work didn’t feel like work—it felt like an adventure.

Calloway leaned back against the counter, looking at Frank and Elliot with a mischievous glint in his eye. “All right, gentlemen,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “We’ve tried on our alter egos. Now let’s take it up a notch.”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘take it up a notch’?”

Calloway smirked. “We switch. Each of us gets to experience someone else’s transformation. It’s only fair.”

Elliot blinked, his pulse quickening. “You mean… you want us to trade outfits and masks?”

“Exactly,” Calloway said, pushing off the counter. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little sweat.”

Frank groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is getting out of hand.”

“And yet,” Calloway said, pointing at him, “you’re not saying no.”

Frank hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Elliot swallowed hard, feeling both nervous and intrigued. He glanced at Calloway’s punk-inspired outfit, then at Frank’s rugged ranger look. Both felt so far removed from his own urban style that the thought of stepping into either was dizzying.

Calloway clapped his hands. “All right, here’s how this works. We’ll go one at a time. Frank, you’ll start by switching with me. Elliot, you’re next. Sound good?”

Frank shrugged. “Might as well get it over with.”

Frank unbuckled the holster from his waist, the leather strap creaking as he handed it to Calloway. “Here. Start with this.”

Calloway took it, slipping it on with ease before removing his own leather jacket. The studs glinted under the studio lights as he passed it to Frank. “And this is yours.”

Frank slipped the jacket on, the heavy material fitting snugly over his broad shoulders. The band T-shirt came next, and he grimaced as he pulled it over his head. “This thing’s damp,” he muttered, feeling the residual heat from Calloway’s body.

Calloway laughed as he tugged on the ranger vest. “That’s the price of admission.”

The pants were next, and Elliot couldn’t look away as the two men swapped. Frank struggled to wiggle into the tight black jeans, muttering under his breath about how restrictive they were. Meanwhile, Calloway adjusted the cargo pants, clearly amused by how loose they felt compared to his usual attire.

Finally, they exchanged masks. Frank hesitated as he peeled off the Boone mask, revealing his flushed face beneath. The inside of the mask glistened with sweat, and he handed it to Calloway with a grimace. “This is disgusting.”

Calloway took it without hesitation, slipping it over his head. He adjusted it, the bearded face settling into place seamlessly. “There we go,” he said, his voice now rough and deep like Boone’s.

Frank picked up the Jax mask, grimacing at the sticky interior. “I swear, if I get a rash from this…” He trailed off as he slid it on, the punk’s sharp features replacing his own.

When they turned to face the mirror, Elliot couldn’t help but laugh. Calloway, now dressed as the rugged ranger, looked completely at ease, while Frank’s transformation into the rebellious punk was hilariously out of character.

“How do I look?” Frank asked, his new voice rasping like sandpaper.

“Like you’re about to start a bar fight,” Calloway said, grinning.

Calloway turned to Elliot. “Your turn, Bennett. Let’s see you handle Boone’s look.”

Elliot’s heart raced as he began peeling off Malik’s hoodie. The fabric clung to his skin, damp with sweat, and he handed it to Calloway, who took it without complaint.

“Man, this thing’s heavy,” Calloway said, slipping it on.

Elliot kicked off the sneakers and struggled out of the baggy jeans, feeling oddly self-conscious as he handed them over. Calloway, now fully dressed as Malik, adjusted the oversized clothes with ease.

Meanwhile, Elliot reached for Boone’s outfit. The vest was stiff and warm, the leather almost alive with the residual heat from Calloway’s body. The cargo pants felt rough against his skin, and the holster added an unfamiliar weight to his side.

Finally, it was time for the mask. Elliot hesitated as he picked up Boone’s rugged face, the beard still damp from Calloway’s earlier transformation. He slid it over his head, shivering as the sweaty interior clung to his skin.

When he turned to the mirror, he barely recognized himself. The rugged ranger stared back at him, and for a moment, he felt a strange sense of power.

Frank, now fully dressed as Jax, smirked at him. “Not bad, Bennett. Not bad at all.”

The three of them stood side by side, now fully inhabiting each other’s original roles. Calloway, as Malik, looked imposing and confident. Elliot as Boone, had a rugged ease about him. And Frank, as Jax, felt like a completely different person.

“This,” Calloway said, his deep Malik voice booming, “is what I call teamwork.”

[cosworld-in]

Top 5 Charcoal Peel Off Mask for Face

Picking the "best" charcoal peel-off mask really depends on your skin type and budget. Here are some highly-rated options to consider:

WOW Skin Science Activated Charcoal Peel Off Face Mask: This budget-friendly mask is a great choice for oily and acne-prone skin. The activated charcoal draws out impurities, while kaolin clay absorbs excess oil. It also contains witch hazel, which helps to tighten pores and reduce inflammation.pen_spark

WOW Skin Science Activated Charcoal Peel Off Face Mask

L'Oreal Paris Pure Clay Mask Detoxify: This mask is another good option for oily skin. It contains three different clays (kaolin, montmorillonite, and Ghassoul) to absorb oil and impurities. It also contains charcoal, which helps to detoxify the skin.

L'Oreal Paris Pure Clay Mask Detoxify

Innisfree Super Volcanic Pore Clay Mask: This Korean mask is a favorite for its ability to remove blackheads and minimize pores. It contains volcanic ash, which helps to absorb oil and impurities. It also contains green tea extract, which has anti-inflammatory properties.

Innisfree Super Volcanic Pore Clay Mask

Purobio Bamboo Charcoal Peel Off Face Mask: This mask is formulated with bamboo charcoal powder to remove impurities and tighten pores. It also contains green tea extract with antioxidant properties and vitamin E for moisture.

Purobio Bamboo Charcoal Peel Off Face Mask

Tapveda Activated Charcoal Peel Off Mask: This mask is said to be suitable for oily, combination, and acne-prone skin. The activated charcoal aims to absorb excess oil and impurities, while botanical extracts like calendula and neem aim to soothe and reduce inflammation.

Tapveda Activated Charcoal Peel Off Mask

Remember, it's always a good idea to do a patch test before applying any new mask to your face. Apply a small amount of the mask to your inner forearm and wait 24 hours to see if there is any redness or irritation.

[lunarw0rks]

Hi can you do a fluff drabble where you do a facial mask with 141 +köing kinda like a at home date night

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

PRICE

never, and i mean never, does anything to pamper himself unless it involves his facial hair.

but, if there's one thing that he loves more than his beard — it's you, and your endearing domestic date ideas.

what's the harm? it's no fun being strict and hardened 24/7 — and he swears by that when he's home with you.

you do it with him, slathering on a charcoal mask on the both of you while you set up in the kitchen.

"sorry, lovie. 'm not used to this." he grumbles when you tell him to sit still, peaking at you through his closed eyes. you maintain a gentle touch, putting an even coat of the spread.

you cuddle on the couch, surely staining his shirt when you forget you have the tacky mask on your face.

he doesn't care, because this will be a fond memory next time he's away. or worse.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

SIMON

he's always been interested in your pampering. what you're doing, what that bottle does, what scents you like, etc...

often, he leans on the doorway and just watches you go through the motions of your skincare routine.

it's just another small detail for simon to remember about you — and that's enough for him.

so, being asked to participate, he acted as grumpy as ever.

but did he join you in the bathroom, allowing you to put whatever on his face? of course, he did.

"like the smell of that one." he says, instinctively scrunching his face while you smooth the rose-scented mask onto his often untouched skin.

while you wait on it to dry, he uses a magazine to fan his face, "how exactly is this helping me? 'm not the prettiest of test subjects, love."

well, his skin ended up glowy and clean for a few hours, until he put his mask on again.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

SOAP

it's constant questions. "what's this? what does that do?" and etcetera.

to your horror, soap only does skin care after he shaves, which isn't always consistent when he's deployed.

years of sand, dirt, sweat, and other grime not being properly scrubbed out of his pores — oh god !!

you have to put the face mask on for him, otherwise he would've put too much or too little.

probably tries to bite your fingers when you swipe the paste along his jaw... he's like a feral raccoon.

"don't know why ya' bother with this stuff. too much work. and you're already smokin'." he says in a pout, giving you a sly wink when you roll your eyes.

but, by the time he washes it off and feels his skin; smooth and hydrated, he eats his words.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

GAZ

gaz has an intricate and strict skincare routine that he follows, so you've had self-care dates often.

it's usually his idea before yours !!

he has the pricey stuff — any drop in quality and his skin is wiped and irritated for days.

"now put this on, it'll cool our skin off after the scrub."

he hands you a squeeze bottle of a peeling mask; mint and eucalyptus-scented, cool against your fingertips and exfoliated face.

laying in bed, wearing hair and face masks together until they're set and ready to be peeled.

best believe, you're not going to bed without a proper lotion routine — it's customary with dating gaz !! he wants you well taken care of !!

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

KÖNIG

he has little, if not no time for skincare/self-care, so if you're able to convince him — you got lucky !!

forcing him to sit still and kneel in front of you, putting all kinds of skincare on his dry skin.

how he's gone on this long without moisturizer, especially when in such gritty climates, you have no clue.

"i don't get it, schatz. this is unnecessary." he grumbles, merely going limp and allowing you to apply the peel mask. "i bought these things for your face, why waste it on me?"

his pores desperately need it, that's obvious !!

the sight of a giant man, dressed in dark colors, now wearing a cucumber green mask — is definitely one you're going to remember.

still, he does it for you, because you asked him to.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.･ﾟﾟ･｡♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

[mossyivy]

Leon’s wife is the type of wife to pick at her husbands face and back all day. He’d be watching TV in the living room and suddenly she’s sitting on his lap plucking his eyebrows because she’s bored. All while he complains that it hurts. (That man was been beat to death yet can’t even sit still while getting his eyebrows plucked. 🙄)

Or she’d make him do some stupid silly skincare. He’d get a silly headband to push his hair back of course, he’d just be half asleep as she gently spread the clay mask across his face.

Violet and Lia would probably mess around with his face too. They’d drag him over to Violet’s room and make him go to their “Salon.” A place where they literally torture him with girly things.

They’d put his hair up in little pigtails, probably beat his face to the gods too. He’d come out of Violets room looking like a pretty princess. His left eye filled with dark colored eyeshadow from Violet and his right with pretty colors and pastels.

- Anon! 🎀

Suggestive Moment Below Cut

No literally she'd be an absolute menace with grooming him. He has no idea why she loves it so much.

"Ow!" He flinches as you rip another long hair from his brow.

"Oh it doesn't hurt that bad you big baby." His grip on your waist tightening as you lean back to assess your work so far, not wanting you to fall back and crack your head on the coffee table like last time.

"You're not the one having hair ripped o- ow! I thought I married a scientist not a beautician..." He huffs as you giggle at his pain, putting the tweezers back into the small brow kit on your lap.

"I'm a woman of many talents." You reach in pulling out the brow scissors, grabbing your wrist he stares at them.

"What are these for?"

"To shape, relax I'm not gonna cut your eyebrow off." He stares, raising his freshly plucked brow, you sigh. Leaning into his ear to whisper.

"If you let me use the scissors I'll let you do that thing you like." Your tone is teasing, his head turns to you.

"As long as I want?"

"Mmhm, and I won't even complain." He lets go of your wrist immediately, leaning back like he's in a professional chair ready for someone to do their worst to him. You smirk, going to shape his brows. His arms pull you closer as he watches you work through slightly cracked eyes.

"For the record, I like when you complain. Makes me know I'm doing it right." You flick him in the chin making him chuckle as you continue to work carefully.

You sit back, nodding to yourself.

"Oooh, we have twins!" You gasp staring at him.

"What! What!?" Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lean back in.

"You have grays in your beard..." You immediately reach for the tweezers, he pushes them onto the couch.

"No! It's bedtime!" Standing up, he lifts you into his arms, making his way towards the stairs.

As for the mask thing I personally think Leon has sensory issues when it comes to stuff on his face, when clay is chunky it makes him think of... the past.

But I could see him being okay with those sheet or charcoal masks that peel. But you'd always fight him on doing the peeling because let's be real it's gross but super satisfying. An it's always funny watching him cringe at how nasty his pores were.

Putting the little creams on him after is his favorite part! Because that means you use a jade roller over his face. He loves that thing. Wishes they came in the size of a paint roller for his back. Every time that little roller touches his face he melts. He'd almost be purring it feels so good to him.

Not only is he getting to do a routine with his adorable wife but that damn roller nearly makes him fall asleep standing up at their his and hers sinks. You'd kiss his chin once he's nice and clean, pull off the cute little tabby cat headband off his head.

"We're done?" He looks so sad. But you always end up having him cuddled up to your side by the end of the night, using a wooden rolling hand massager on his back. He'd be out like a light, snoring away in 20 minutes tops.

But the skincare routine definitely started after his girls loved playing salon with him (not mommy because daddy always listens to the kid gossip and gives the best feedback)

Violet's talking about her 2 friends arguing over who gets to play with her at recess or sit with her at lunch while putting his hair up in tons of tiny pigtails with different colored hair ties. All while Lia would be just clipping on any little beret or cute clip she could find from her collection to his bangs.

Leon would walk out of there and into the kitchen while you're doing the dishes. You look at him and grin.

"Rough day Leona?" You joke, making him groan as you laugh. "You look like that doll from the Rugrats if she got into a fist fight."

"The girls thought I looked beautiful!"

[formulaforza]

rainy days-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 540

You’ve always loved rainy days, granted, as long as it's a rainy day at home–not at the track. There’s something so cozy about them, like the sky is sad and so everyone else needs to hibernate for the day. They are especially enjoyable when your boyfriend is home, soft and cute and ready to snuggle while the Earth processes her grief. 

You drink tea and eat breakfast for lunch and take turns crushing each other with your body weight on the couch watching plotless reality television and getting way too invested in the personalities. His hair is getting long and he’s overdue for a cut, but the pieces on top have just enough length for you to braid it. You beg for two hours before he concedes, tells you to have at it. Obviously, you do, and take a million and one pictures of him looking so pretty. “I want to do yours,” he said after, and you spend an hour and half trying to teach him to french braid without actually being able to see what he’s doing. 

I think we should do face masks, he says after, and how can you turn down a self-care evening with your boyfriend? You’re usually the one begging for him to participate. He almost cries and you laugh so hard you might pee when you peel the charcoal mask off his face, slow and steady in the bathroom with a hot wash cloth. “You’re pathetic.” You told him, and he flipped you off, winced when you pulled the corner of the mask up. 

You fall asleep for an evening nap while he’s watching a new episode of one of his favorite shows, and when you wake up it’s dark, the tv is paused, and he’s asleep next to you on the couch. You blow out the candle burning in the kitchen and open the window while you clean up your meal mess from earlier, listening to the light, consistent pattern of the rain. 

“Amour, wake up.” You told him, ran your fingers through his hair, undoing the braid and picking apart the curls left in its wake. “Time for bed.” He gets up and trudges down the hall to your bedroom. You fold the blanket he was covered up with and toss it over the back of the sofa, straighten up a few things so nobody has to do it in the morning. When you look up, he’s stopped in the hallway, rubbing his eye and watching you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

He nods. “Just waiting for you.” You smile, tell him you’ll be there in a couple minutes, but he stays waiting. You latch the window shut and start down the hallway, are greeted with his strong arms wrapping you up into a hug. You laugh, run your hands over his back.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he kisses the side of your head. “I just love you.” He releases his grip on you, gently places a soft kiss on your lips, a quick peck. “Love this.”

You smile, kiss him again, link your finger through his. “I love this, too.”

“Don’t love me?” He smiles all dumb and sleepy.

“Undecided,” you shrug, both smile, and head off to bed.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

I just want to doodle and draw on Jeff's arms while staying up all night playing games with music playing as white noise and snacking on whatever we find . And you bet your ass we're doing facials

Thats so him 🐝

Imagine...

Being unable to sleep, tossing and turning all night before your scarfaced boyfriend finally sits up and declares that sleep is definetly not happening tonight. And so, out to the gas station you go, grabbing at least a buckets worth of snacks each, an energy drink each, and a regualr drink each.

As you get into Jeff's beat up truck, you roll the window down and stick your head out, enjoying the cool air. He smiles at you and places his hand on your thigh, squeezing lightly before just letting his hand rest there for the rest of the ride back to the manor.

You both gather your bags, quietly bid a hello to any of the creeps that are still up, and swiftly make your way back to Jeff's room. While you go grab some stuff from your room, Jeff grabs his speaker and turns on some lofi. Frankly, 2am is not the time for Hollywood undead and slipknot. You make your way back to his room and hold up the tubes of charcoal face masks excitedly. Initailly, Jeff did not want to do it. A bunch of goopy cold stuff on his face thats already sensetive as is? No thank you.

You manage convince him though, telling him that it will be relaxing and make his skin smooth. His hair gets pulled back (and if you have any hair that would get in the way, yours is too) and the face masks go on.

In the mean time, you grab a sharpie, beginning to trace over all of the tattoos coating his arms, and once you get bored of that, you move to the blank spaces on his arms and doodle your own designs. All the while Jeff snacks loudly on his chips.

When it is time to peel the masks off, you go first, showing him that it won't be painful and is relatively easy. However, he still manages to get you to take his mask off for him. He has to say, the mask did make his skin feel a lot nicer. You end up painting his nails next, as it's been a while since he's painted them and they are chipping really bad.

Eventually, the two of you run out of things to do, so you settle down and turn on his tv, cuddling close together you start watching your favorite tv show, sharing the occassional kiss, joke, and small conversation.

[franklyshipping]

No-One Is Above A Smile ~ A Markiplier and Ethan Nestor Ego Fanfic

Hello again! This time we're writing from a fab prompt from @coolm456 featuring not just Unus & Annus, but Darkiplier too! This is a fun one, so without further ado LET'S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler

The primary living room of the ego manor was usually very sophisticated, full of leather furnishings, fine mahogany, with a colour scheme of dark browns, reds, and glimmers of gold. Today it was still sophisticated, but there was more of a monochrome vibe filling the room courtesy of the trio using it as their “hangout” space. Dark was in his favourite armchair, scotch resting on his knee as he let himself relax. Annus was reclined on one of the sofas with his eyes closed, a peel-off charcoal face mask in place. Meanwhile, Unus was sat cross-legged on the carpet with about six blankets covering him, and Dark Chica was laying in his lap and boofing softly for tummy rubs. It was an unusual scene for sure, but this time of decompression was much needed for the trio, just to have a little break from the chaos for once. It was mostly silent other than steady breathing, but every few minutes Unus would snort or giggle as Dark Chica spontaneously licked his cheek or ear. At the sound of his giggle Annus smiled subtly, and Dark raised an amused eyebrow.

‘Having fun Unus?’

Dark asked, and Unus grinned. Today he’d swayed away from his stoic side to his more giddy self, mainly due to having Dark Chica’s attention.

‘Yohour dog is the behest!’

He replied, and Dark Chica immediately boofed and licked at his neck, which happened to be a particularly ticklish spot. Unus scrunched up with a giggle as Dark chuckled and Annus rolled his eyes. The elder of the existential pair sat up on his sofa, peeling his face mask off effortlessly as he smirked.

‘I swear you somehow get more ticklish every day.’

‘I do not.’

‘Yes you do.’

‘No I do no–AH!’

Annus’ fingers darted out to flutter at the back of Unus’ neck, coaxing out yet another torrent of giggles which in turn excited Dark Chica more so she licked one of Unus’ ears. The younger man’s cheeks reddened as he batted Annus’ hand, attempting to clear his throat as he glared up at him. Dark bit back a chuckle as he observed, shaking his head lightly as Annus mocked.

‘I hope I didn’t embarrass you.’

‘Annus I swear I will go for your armpits if you don’t shut up.’

‘Oh my, is that meant to be a threat?’

Annus taunted. Unus appraised him, all stretched out without a care in the world. In a flash Unus suddenly darted his hand out towards one of his armpits in a feint, and Annus suddenly lowered his arms to protect himself, letting out a nervous noise from his throat. Annus frowned as Unus grinned at him, giggling and returning his hands to Dark Chica’s belly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Oh… shut up.’

Unus snickered as a slight smile appeared on Annus’ face. Dark rolled his eyes at the pair of them, amazed that two existential beings such as them could be so endearingly ridiculous and wholesome. He sipped at his drink and remarked amusedly.

‘I had no idea you two were getting so soft.’

Annus raised an eyebrow at Dark as Unus gaped, the two replying in tandem.

‘Excuse me?’

‘We are not soft!’

Unus’ particular indignance made Dark snort as he set down his drink, and Annus narrowed his eyes as the shadowy man replied.

‘And yet those tickle spots of yours suggest otherwise.’

Until that point Dark Chica had been flopped fully horizontally and on the verge of a nap, but hearing the word “tickle” from her dad’s mouth made her perk up. Suddenly she was paying attention, but no-one else quite noticed.

‘Those don’t indicate anything of the kind, everyone has them.’

Annus retorted, and Dark sneered.

‘Do they?’

‘Don’t you?’

‘Oh please.’

Dark chuckled, and Unus and Annus shared a blatantly surprised look at the implication. Was Dark… not ticklish? Both of them racked their shared memories, certain that they’d heard somewhere that Dark was ticklish like every other ego in the manor. And yet… the conviction with which he spoke, the casualness, was undoubtedly very convincing. Unus couldn’t help but gape at him, the idea of someone not being ticklish just baffling him.

‘You can’t be serious?!’

‘I’m always serious, Unus. I’m sorry to disappoint you.’

Dark replied with a little grin, internally crowing at himself at the prospect of actually getting away with this. This had to be the most bold-faced lie he’d told in a while, and the idea that it was actually working rather tickled him, if you’ll pardon the pun. Meanwhile, Unus and Annus felt bamboozled, which was a rare thing for the pair. Dark had been the one to educate them on tickling in the first place, but now they thought about it they’d never seen him getting tickled himself. Could it really be true?

Amidst all of this… Dark Chica’s attention darted from the shocked pair, to her smug dad. Despite her being a supposedly “dark” puppo, she was in fact a very good girl and very smart girl indeed. She was taking in the interaction with far more intelligence than you might think – in fact, she was always able to sense when her dad was telling a sneaky lie. She also remembered hearing the world “tickle”… and everything made sense in her belly-rub-loving brain. So, she figured she’d get in on the fun.

In an instant she’d popped up on her feet, and bounded to Dark whilst wagging her floofy tail. Dark naturally reached out to give her some chin scratches, which she let herself enjoy for a few moments… but then to everyone’s utter shock she chomped down (harmlessly) on one of his shins and pulled him out of his chair onto the carpet! Dark yelped out as he landed on his back with a thump, making Unus and Annus bite back laughs.

‘Wha– Chica?!’

Dark looked at her in disbelief – he knew she was playful, but this was a lot! Dark Chica boofed at him and put a paw of his chest so he couldn’t sit up, before looking at Unus and Annus. The silence made it clear that everyone was confused, until the duo watched her start nudging at Dark’s and neck with her wet nose as Dark spluttered. That was when they realised. She was trying to tell them something very interesting indeed, and Dark had realised it too. He let out a casual chuckle, clearing his throat a little as he tried and failed to sit up.

‘Hah, alright Chica alright, we can play just–’

‘Hold on there Dark, I think Chica’s trying to show us something.’

Annus interrupted, a thin grin on his face as he and Unus shared a devious look… before pouncing together and pinning Dark down properly. Dark Chica barked with excitement, her tail wagging as Dark grunted and struggled and let out a number of vague threats… until Unus started fluttering his fingers down the sides of his neck.

‘What have we here?’

‘Nothing!’

‘Are you sure? Chica seems to think it’s something.’

‘Unus, Annus, let me go!’

He grunted, but the wobbly smile on his face made Unus and Annus share another grin. Dark Chica boofed again, and Annus chuckled as he scratched fondly behind her ear.

‘Is your master lying to us, hmm? Is he ticklish?’

Dark’s face reddened as Dark Chica boofed, wagged her tail harder, and licked Annus’ cheek for good measure. That was all the confirmation they needed. Dark let out another series of grunts, gritting his teeth and trying not to giggle as Unus’ fingers kept fluttering.

‘Unus!’

‘Yeah?’

‘D-Desihist this!’

‘Desist what?’

Dark went to speak again, but ended up snorting and chuckling as the flutters snuck behind his vulnerable ears. He tossed his head weakly, his fresh giggles taking all the heat out of his growl.

‘I’ll gehet yohohou fohor thihihis!’

Unus grinned and snickered, whilst Annus leaned over Dark with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Did you just threaten my other half?’

Dark couldn’t ignore the chill he got down his spine, Annus’ voice echoing a little in his ears. Then before he knew it, a laugh had exploded out of him as Annus’ hands delved beneath his shirt, scratching swiftly at his sides. Dark jerked and twitched, but his hands were pinned beneath Annus’ knees, and he had no chance of freeing them now.

‘Yehehes! Yohohou wohon’t gehet away wihith thihihis, eheither of yohou!’

He exclaimed, trying to maintain some semblance of a tough façade. Unus giggled as Annus smirked.

‘Somehow that doesn’t fill me with dread.’

Annus continued his scratches as Unus’ fingertips zeroed in behind Dark’s ears, tracing the shells as Dark tried to toss his head even more – he was refusing to admit to himself that he was screwed, even though it was so adorably obvious.

‘Dahamnit gehehet ohohoff mehe!’

‘Aww, this doesn’t tickle does it–?’

‘SHUHUT IHIT!’

Unus snickered at Dark’s outburst as he and Annus continued their tickling, Unus’ fingertips now teasing right behind Dark’s earlobes – an utterly maddening tickle spot, by the way – whilst Annus’ thumbs were massaging circles into the dips of Dark’s fleshy sides. All Dark could do was belly laugh and thrash about, meanwhile Dark Chica was sat and watching with a happy look on her face – though occasionally she did playfully nudge Dark’s shirt or lick his face.

‘Sounds like Chica loves that laughter of yours Dark, I wonder if we can make it louder?’

Annus mused, and started squeezing Dark’s sides rapidly to make him cackle – it got so intense that Unus had to abandon his ears to hold his arms as he tugged at them. Unus had Dark in a half hug, giggling as Dark howled with a red face, his eyes flickering with crimson and blue flashes.

‘AHAHANNUS DOHOHON’T!’

‘Listen to that laugh! I think he’s enjoying that Annus.’

‘I quite agree Unus.’

Dark’s laughter was deep and warm as it reverberated around the room, like his mirth was a mighty opera. His hair was quickly becoming dishevelled as he struggled vainly against the tickling (which he was secretly enjoying, but Unus and Annus didn’t need to know that). It had been quite a while since Dark had been tickled so thoroughly, and honestly? It was even more fulfilling than he’d remembered. Though, Dark couldn’t help but kick as the tickles at his sides grew deeper and more intense, his instinct to wriggle free irresistible.

‘UNHAHAHAND MEHE!’

‘Why should we do that?’

‘BEHEHECAUSE IHI SAHAID SOHO!’

‘Hmm, I suppose that is an option…’

Annus remarked. Then Unus grinned and piped up.

‘Maybe if you admit how ticklish you are we’ll let you go.’

Dark’s lips parted in shock. The audacity of the demand was one thing, but the embarrassing nature of it was what really took the damn biscuit!

‘I would be amenable to that. What do you say Dark, will you confess?’

Thankfully Annus eased up on the tickling for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath, before he spluttered his indignant response. As if Dark would give in so easily!

‘Absolutely not!’

Dark started kicking again in an attempt to escape, though the existential duo didn’t miss the smile he was wearing – the fun of the whole thing was obvious, and they were happy to keep playing. Unus laughed as he hugged Dark’s torso again to try and keep him down as Annus resorted to grabbing at Dark’s legs, his hands gripping his knees and squeezing them… which drew out the most colossal shriek from Dark. There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other. Unus grinned, Annus raised an eyebrow, Dark Chica boofed, and a wobbly smile appeared on Dark’s face as he cleared his throat.

‘Annus.’

‘Oh dear, what’s this?’

‘Annus, my friend–’

‘I think I know just how to persuade you.’

‘Annus wait I–AHH! NOHOHONONONO NOHOT THEHEHERE!’

Dark was a hysterical mess in seconds. Gone was any semblance of the smart elegance which hung from his figure every day, for here now he was merely a man whose kneecaps were ticklish as hell. Annus was delightedly squeezing them, pinching them, rubbing them with his thumbs and forefingers as Dark cackled and jerked. Meanwhile Dark Chica had started barking along excitedly and doing tippy-tappies, happy to see her dad laughing this hard. Unus giggled along, giving Dark’s arms a squeeze.

‘I think you’ve got his sweet spot.’

‘Mm so do I, I wonder if he’s considering a little confession yet?’

‘It’s hard to tell, I think we keep this up for a few minutes.’

‘Fine by me.’

And so they did. Five minutes objectively is not such a long time, unless you’re being tickled of course. Then it might as well be five centuries! Dark was helpless as his knees were tickled within an inch of their life, his suit trousers offering no protection as misty grey tears built in his eyes. Eventually he knew he had to do it. He had to admit defeat, though it pained him to even think of it.

‘THIHIHIS IHIS TOHOHORMENT!!’

‘It doesn’t have to be a torment, you know what we wish to hear.’

‘YOHOHOU AHARE EHEVIHIL!!’

‘I shall take that as a compliment.’

Annus smirked as Dark let out yet another howl of laughter… before he finally conceded.

‘ALRIHIGHT ALRIGHT IHIHI’M TIHICKLISH DAMNIT IHI’M TICKLIHIHISH!!’

Unus and Annus shared a satisfied grin, before they released him carefully from their tickly grip. He remained on the carpet, and slowly rolled into his side and tucked his knees up to his  chest as he panted. He closed his eyes for a few moments, his smile lingering as he felt himself start to calm down. When he opened his eyes, and before he could say a word, he was greeted by Dark Chica lying by him on her belly. She licked his cheek, and he huffed fondly.

‘You were absolutely no help.’

She boofed happily and licked his nose, making him laugh as he sat up – naturally she flopped in his lap, earning her some affectionate belly scratches as her tail thumped rhythmically on the floor. Dark looked between Unus and Annus, his eyes narrowed yet warm.

‘You’re both lucky I value our friendship.’

‘And we value yours.’

Annus replied as Unus grinned, before sitting close so he could scratch behind Dark Chica’s ears softly. Dark smiled lightly as he and Annus shared another look… and Dark was surprised to see Annus’ expression turn soft.

‘It’s endearing.’

‘What is?’

Dark asked. Unus and Annus shared another look, and Unus replied.

‘To know you’re as ticklish as the rest of us.’

Dark huffed and rolled his eyes, but nevertheless felt the warmth of the sentiment the existential pair exuded as they all sat there together. It didn’t take long for them to get comfortable in the soothing room with countless blankets, with the sweetest (and most attention-seeking) puppo in existence. They were a dark group indeed, right to each of their cores… but even so, there was no-one there who was above a smile.

WOOOO HOPE YOU LIKED THIS FIC (SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE!) LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

[theambitiouswoman]

Yo I'm asking you this hoping that you know skincare but do you have some tips to get rid of blackheads and whiteheads?

You can try:

Charcoal face masks that peel off

Use salicylic acid to cleanse your face

Pomegranates

Green tea 🍵

Egg whites 🥚

Cucumber 🥒

Lemon juice 🍋

Using a skin brush

Do not use pore strips!