#fun tip for the self harm girlies out there

[kotorilovesalpacas]

A Golden House Full of Golden Tears (Chilumi) - Part 2

A/N: idk why this ended up being two parts but i had an idea and i went with it sO here is my part two :D

Warnings: angsty cause that’s all i’m good for, slight violence, a tiny mention of death?? sort of???, also slight story spoilers if you haven’t played to the Golden House

Part 1 / Part 2

Childe.

Focus on the job.

He had tried. Truly, he had. It was never his intention to get involved with the infamous traveler from Mondstadt. All he wanted was to get in, get what was wanted, and then get out.

But once he saw her eyes - those beautiful, golden eyes - he had fallen. Her eyes always embraced the world so openly, always inquiring, always seeing the good in everything. Hell, she had managed to see the good in him, too.

  Don't involve yourself with her more than necessary.

Yet Childe knew the moment he first spoke to her that he was going to be in it for the long haul. Simple questions meant to gather information turned into questions about her, what she wanted, where she was from, what she seemed so intent on finding. Childe wanted to know everything.

  You're with the Fatui, remember?

He knew. Of course he knew. He would have forsaken everything if it meant he could spend just another moment with her. The Fatui meant nothing to him, as long as he could see her smile, watch her eyes light up as he humoured her with a bad joke. Beautiful was a understatement for someone like herself.

As he turned to face her, standing in the entrance of the Golden House, rain dripping from every part of her body, he felt everything falling apart. It took every ounce of his self control to hold back from running over and taking her in his arms. If only he could stroke her hair, tell her that everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn't.

Instead, he put on his facade. He turned the corners of his lips up in a smirk and greeted her, "You're late, girlie. I didn't think you'd show."

"What are you doing?" Her voice was strained. Of course he noticed as her hands clamped into fists. Childe wanted to take her hands in his own, stop her shaking by rubbing gentle circles into her palm. "Answer me."

At least he could finally be honest, "Taking the Gnosis. What does it look like?" It hurt him to speak to her like that, as if he didn't care. The opposite was true; he cared for her so much that it scared him. To have to lie to her, to pretend that it wasn't going to end with them both getting hurt was so very difficult.

  "But you said-"

"That I loved you?" But he did. "That the Fatui meant nothing to me as long as we could be together?" He would have done, though. Without even a second thought.

"They were lies?"

"Sure were." He forced the words out through gritted teeth before he could convince himself otherwise. Childe always knew that he wasn't a good guy; he could never deserve someone like her. If this was what he had to do to make her see that, then so be it. He could play his part. "It was a fun game while it lasted though, right?"

Childe noticed every quiver of her lip, every tear that rolled slowly down her cheek. Every shaky inhale, the trembling of her fingers as she took hold of her sword. Each felt like a stab through his chest and he couldn't breathe.

Lumine stepped forward, raising her sword towards him. With a heavy heart, he grabbed his bow. He didn't want to fight her - not now, not ever. Yet he knew he had to. But surely he could stall for a little longer? Hear her voice just a few more times?

He stalled, "But it's strange. You would've thought a place housing such an important object would be more heavily guarded, no?"

It worked: she paused for a moment.

"It's almost as if it isn't here." Slowly, he drew an arrow from the bag on his back, resting it against his bow. He held it up, carefully aiming towards her, but above her head. "Did you know?"

"Y-You don't get to ask me questions." There was a venom in her voice that he had never heard before. A brewing anger aimed directly at him. And he would gladly bear the brunt of it.

Her small frame began to walk towards him, a fire burning in the depths of her eyes. He didn't want to fight. He couldn't fight her.

All he could do was attempt to stall even more. So he continued, trying to rid himself of all guilt, "There's another plan. There was always another plan." He forced himself to chuckle, though he knew it was empty. Could she sense that he was just playing his part? "Osial. I'm sure he's awakening even as we speak."

"You don't mean-"

An arrow slipped from his fingers, flying past her body. He wouldn't actually aim for her; he would never wish to harm her. As she dodged, he loosed another arrow towards her. Childe prayed that she would give up and leave.

But instead she ran at him. Part of him was still surprised, despite expecting her to fight back. He tried to jump backwards, but she was faster. She had always been faster. It was one of the things he admired about her; how strong she really was. Her skills with a sword were nothing to be scoffed at.

  And so he ended up sprawled on the floor, her foot pressing his chest down. The tip of her sword was pressing into his chest. If it was anyone else, he would have fought back. But it was her. And he didn't want to live with her disappointment. He didn't want to be the reason for that pain he now saw shining in her eyes.

"Do it." He smiled up at her, wanting her to end it for him.

  She began to cry. Huge streams of tears rolled down her cheeks, sobs made her chest heave and the sword fell from her hands. Plunging the sword through his chest would have hurt far less than seeing her in that very moment.

  Childe fought to suppress the thousand apologies on the tip of his tongue.

You don't deserve her.

He never would.

Let her go.

So he did.

"I'll never forgive you for this." She told him, before breaking into a run.

He would never forgive himself either.

[lvmosity]

saviour | harry potter

pairing: harry potter x muggleborn!hufflepuff!reader

requested: yes! by @scoofpoof​ thank u ♡

request: can i request for a harry potter x muggleborn! hufflepuff! reader? reader doesnt know harry potter (gasp) but he does bc they grew up in the same place and he lowkey has a crush on her. reader still doesnt know harry potter in school n is one of the top students. harry knows that she is physically strong bc she plays muggle sports n knows self defense. shes kind but not a coward so one time harry asks for help when he is being bullied n she agrees... reluctantly. u can choose the ending. thanks!

genre: fluff maybe?

word count: 3.4k (ok i didnt expect this to be long)

warnings: bullying, mentions of blood & scars, reader is a badass

tags: @sadhwstudent​ 

credit to the owner of the gif

It had only been less than two months since the news of Lord Voldemort’s supposed return from the dead had spread throughout the Wizarding World and all Harry Potter could do was watch in frustration as people branded him as a liar and deranged. He had to thank the Ministry of Magic, primarily Minister Fudge who took full control of this and covered up what he thinks to be complete utter nonsense. It wasn’t a surprise to him really as the Ministry of Magic were, after all, corrupt and incompetent.

Whilst Harry lied in bed feeling extremely alone and lost during those months, he did not get a single letter from his two best friends; Ron and Hermione, despite their promises. He was starting to wonder if they too had turned blind and decided their friendship wasn’t worth it but after finally meeting up one day for an explanation, he realised it was done so under Dumbledore’s orders which made the situation worse.

Then the events that followed after made it harder to cope with. He had discovered an old alliance formed by Dumbledore during the First Wizarding World and that half of them had either died or were seriously harmed. His godfather Sirius Black had informed him that the Dark Lord was in search of a special object that he had no access to during his previous attack, along with the mysterious actions of his headteacher who has ignored him throughout the summer. The pressure was starting to be a heavy toll on him, and he was forced to deal with it.

Unfortunately, it also became a difficulty attending school. His classmates had started eyeing him weirdly, growing awfully distant with him to which they would immediately stop talking once Harry entered the room, and some of his other so-called-friends had removed him from their lives. It also couldn’t help that certain students, none other than Draco Malfoy and his goons, had begun to bully him more than ever, hitting him with nastier remarks as well as the constant push and shove tactics.

Harry felt isolated and disorientated, felt as if no one had truly believed the words that came out of his mouth, felt as if he was made a laughing stock to the Wizarding World, felt as if Voldemort had already won the battle and it had barely even started. Ron and Hermione tried their best to cheer him up and distract him from reality but it would end in failure each time.

He was starting to lose hope, starting to think he was better off buried twenty-feet deep under the dirt since he knew his parents were the only ones who wouldn’t judge him, starting to accept the many labels plastered on him; he was a liar. 

He just had spent a strenuous hour-long detention session with Professor Umbridge in the afternoon due to his apparent cheek talking as well as spitting ‘false’ information about the Dark Lord’s return. Feeling emotionally drained, Harry found himself making a bee-line to the school’s library to have a moment to himself, he wasn’t prepared to face his friends and hear their worries.

Night had already fallen meaning everyone would be asleep by now, the hallways had also gotten dark. Luckily enough, the candles were the only light source as it made it slightly easier for Harry to find his way through the darkness. However, he wasn’t able to see anything further down the hall and he worried that a prefect or a professor on duty might catch him and drag him back to the dorms. Although, he’d rather bump into them than Filch.

And soon enough, once he had turned a corner and heard hurried footsteps approaching up ahead in the darkness, he started to panic. It was only a matter of time before he suddenly collided into something hard and he desperately hoped it wasn’t any of the two. Waiting to hear a grumpy voice scold him, he hears a high-pitched squeal instead.

The unknown figure in front quickly whispers a ‘lumos’ before being blinded by a bright light. Harry hisses at the sudden flash and squints his eyes to see past it expecting to see Filch or a professor. To his surprise, he realised it was just a girl but it wasn’t just any ordinary girl, it was you.

You look at Harry with a bewildered look to which he returns. Opening your mouth to question his presence, your head quickly whips back and a small gasp escapes from your lips. Both of you hear another set of footsteps approaching from behind and you instantly grab Harry’s hand and rush off to find a room or a spot to hide in.

After locating a random closet room, you hastily pull Harry inside with you and shut the door from behind. Harry leans against the wall and starts to pant but you hush at him indicating to keep quiet. You whisper a ‘Filch’ to him and he nods in realisation but mentally facepalms seconds later because you couldn’t see it anyways since the room was completely dark.

Several minutes pass by and no sign of footsteps or a grouchy voice could be heard meaning the coast was clear. Relieved, you flick your wand and a light illuminates from the tip of it, now the room was bright enough to see.

You turn to Harry and smile at him sheepishly, feeling embarrassed for grabbing a stranger’s hand. “Sorry about dragging you here, I had to make sure the both of us didn’t get caught, you know how Filch is.”

Harry shakes his head rapidly, “It’s fine, I appreciate you looking out for me though.”

“No worries...” Your words falter at the end waiting for him to introduce himself as you had no knowledge of the boy standing in front of you.

“Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Ah, well,” The sides of your eyes crinkled as you give him a friendly smile. “You’re welcome Harry, Harry Potter.”

You burst into fits of giggles, finding your small joke amusing. A faint blush creeps onto his face and Harry’s head shifts to the side in an attempt to hide it as he found you it adorable. Fortunately for him, you didn’t notice it but you noticed something instead and it wasn’t fortunate for him.

“Harry! Your hand’s bleeding!” You gasp as you reach out to his hand, lifting it up to your face to inspect it.

Harry winces at the sight of the blood, his scab had cut open supposedly from the harsh grip you had on him whilst you were running away before. It was only a minor cut and it didn’t really bother Harry whilst you reacted differently by shrieking as if he had lost a hand.

“What happened to your hand? Why do you have a scab?” You eye it closely, “It looks recent too.”

Harry scratches the back of his head with his other hand and stays silent, unsure on how to explain it to you that Professor Umbridge is a vile, old bat that enchanted a special quill to cut into his skin when he uses it. He also didn’t want you to worry too much and snitch on her to Dumbledore in case you would get in trouble.

Slightly frowning at his choice to ignore your question, you gently push him back to sit on a random obstacle as you rustle inside your school robes only to pull out a tiny first-aid box and kneel in front of Harry. You pick up a wound spray out of it and spritz it on his cut causing Harry to hiss at the slight pain.

Mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ to him, you continue to dab the blood away, taking extra care not to deepen it. Once you saw that the cut was cleaned up, you pick up a plaster and place it on his cut, softly smoothing it out so that it sticks on properly.

Harry watches you intently as you smile to yourself feeling proud at your work, even if it simply was just tending to your aid. Harry lifts his hands up and stares at the plaster, it was girly for his liking as it was coloured a pastel purple and had a daisy pattern. He found it cute.

"It’s my friends,” Harry looks back at you. “Mine recently ran out so my friend lent me a few since I’m always getting into fights.” You bite your lip and look at Harry, waiting for a shocked reaction from him, he probably doesn’t expect you to be a troublesome girl.

“B-but for a good reason! I only fight the bad guys, y’know the bullies and all.” You stutter, trying to defend yourself. You began to bring up past events of you arguing with a Slytherin called Pansy and how it ended badly, showing him old bruises on your arm that were close to fading away. You then bring up another fight including a boy from your house and rambled on about how he blamed you for messing up a potion to which you secretly made it blow up in his face out of annoyance.

As you continue to rant, you didn’t notice Harry’s gaze on you. He knew all about you and how you are as a person, he knew this because he’s observed you for years. Harry figured that you didn’t know him too well as you saw him as a stranger but to him, you weren’t.

The two of you grew up in the same neighbourhood, practically living across from each other but a few houses down. Both of you also attended the same school and shared most classes together, yet throughout the years you didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence until now. 

This wasn’t a surprise to Harry as he was a quiet child and didn’t get on with the others in his year. He stayed reserved, spending most of his time in school sitting inside class with his teacher during break and lunchtime watching other children have fun. The teacher wouldn’t pay much attention to Harry but it didn’t bother him as he was much interested in watching you play on the field outside.

He was captivated by you. You were different from most girls in his year; you loved playing muggle sports as you would constantly single-handedly beat the boys at football. Gradually, he developed a crush on you. He would consistently hear stories from his classmates of how you would beat up bullies and stand up to anyone making fun of your friends, or rather anyone. You were strong for your age, in fact, you were always strong. 

Growing up, the stories would get crazier and Harry got a chance to witness it come alive. During one chilly December night, he stumbled upon the scene of you being harassed by two men. Irritated by their actions, Harry was about to call them out but in a blink of an eye; you quickly grab one of their arms and twist it, launching him over your shoulder and slammed him down on the ground. 

The other man shrieked in horror and ran away, bumping into Harry’s shoulder in the process. Satisfied, you calmly walk away from the groaning man and left a speechless Harry. From that moment onwards, his admiration for you tripled.

Not only were you strong, but you were also freakishly intelligent. Scoring ‘Outstanding’ grades in most of your classes to which you were one of the top students in Hogwarts, always positioning a place higher than Hermione (she hated that). 

Harry was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts as he sees you with your head tilted to the side, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, I asked if you were alright. Something wrong?”

“Oh, er, n-no. I was just thinking about something.”

“Ah,” You place your chin in both the palm of your hands, looking up at Harry. “Say, you haven’t told me how you got that scab. What happened?”

Harry sighed. “Umbridge.”

You roll your eyes, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You stand up and sit beside Harry who scooches a bit to the side to make space. Although, due to how small the obstacle you guys were sat on, your hands were lightly brushing up against each other and Harry tried his best to keep calm and fight the uncontrollable blush.

“I don’t know why I’ve only just realised this but you were the guy that was with Cedric the night he died, right?” Harry turns his head to you, startled at the sudden change of topic. “And you’re the one who keeps saying that the Dark Lord has returned.”

No answer. Harry stays silent, he had a feeling that you were also going to make fun of him, call him a liar and walk off; forever ignoring his existence. But instead, he hears a soft giggle.

“Don’t worry, I believe you.”

Harry shoots you a confused look, “What, really?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just... mostly everyone doesn’t, and they bully me for it.”

You frown at the new information before your face relaxes. “I’m so sorry that’s been happening to you Harry...” Harry shrugs and you couldn’t help but start to feel bad. “I wish it was different. If there was a way for me to help, I would--”

Harry’s head perks up; “Then help me.”

“What? Harry, I barely know you.”

“But I know you.”

“You don’t even know my name--”

“Y/N, your name is Y/N Y/LN.”

“Okay, now that’s weird.”

Harry shakes his head, “It’s a long story but we grew up in the same neighbourhood and attended the same primary school.”

“Oh,” That made sense. You were beginning to think you had a stalker. “How come I’ve only just met you today?” 

“Must be a magic spell I put on myself to be invisible.”

You playfully nudge him. “Oh shut up, a kid that young wouldn’t have been able to learn the spell for it yet.”

You both laugh and for a moment, Harry’s troubles had disappeared and he was enjoying the company, your company. As the laughter fades away, Harry turns back to staring at you and you question him, “What?”

“So, will you help me? With the bullying?” 

You bite your lip and ponder for a few minutes. An hour ago, he was just a stranger to you (and whoa, has it already been an hour?) yet it felt like you guys had already met before, like fate had brought him to you and perhaps offered you both to initiate a friendship or more. Wait, what were you thinking? You’ve only just met the guy!

Your eyes meet up with his once more and he gazes at you softly, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t help but feel even more bad for Harry. What were you going to say?

“Okay.”

●●●

The next morning had arrived and like always, Harry had to deal with the usual weird looks and whispers from the students that passed by him in the halls. Ron and Hermione would instantly glare at them to which they’d shut up and walk off but they knew they’d start whispering again once they turned their backs away.

Frustrated at her best friend’s ignorance, Hermione pulls Harry’s arm back causing the three of them to stop in their tracks. “Harry, aren’t you going to say or do something about this? You can’t just ignore them!”

Harry whips his arm out of her grasp causing Hermione to frown. “It’s nothing to worry about, I’ll be alright.”

“Alright?! How could you possibly feel alright when everyone is going around making a mockery of you--”

“Well, well, if it isn’t Potter.” The three of them turn to see Draco and his two other delinquent friends walk up to them, a smug look plastered across Draco’s face. “Finding it difficult these days, aren’t we?”

Ron scoffs, “Screw off Malfoy.” He nudges Harry and a mumbles a ‘let’s just go Harry.’ as him and Hermione start to walk away but Harry stays put.

“You know, I’m surprised you haven’t had enough and dropped dead just like poor Ceddy. You can both die as cowards.”

Harry steps closer, glowering at Draco. “Don’t you dare talk about Cedric like that.” 

Draco also steps closer, their foreheads almost touching each other as anger boils up within them. “Or what?” He shoves Harry back by the shoulders causing him to lose a bit of his balance but luckily enough Ron and Hermione were a few meters away to catch him in time.

Standing back up, he was about to lunge at Draco with his fists clenched up ready to land a punch but before he could, he was interrupted by shouting. 

“Hey Draco!”

Everyone turns around and sees you up behind Draco whose head wasn’t turned around in time. He didn’t get the chance to acknowledge who the person calling his name was as you punched him square in the face making him stumble back in pain and tripped on his feet, landing hard on his back. 

The rest stood there in horror and utter shock, their mouths slightly opened as their minds were trying to register what had just happened. Harry couldn’t believe it, you stood up for him. Were you watching the situation unfold?

Draco groans and looks up at you, pinching the sides of his nose bridge in an attempt to control his now bleeding nose. “What the fuck--”

“For your information blondie, Harry and Cedric aren’t cowards.” You slowly lean over Draco, peering down at him with narrowed eyes as you smirk. “And neither am I.” You wink and reached into your robes before throwing tissues at him, Draco watches them fall to the ground and your figure walks away, a pleased look on your face.

You make your way to the trio whose eyes were focused on you. You stand in front of Harry and hand him a potion. Harry, still speechless, stares at the unknown potion in his hands.

“It’s Murtlap Essence,” You lightly tap the sides of his hands that had his scab from last night. “Soak your hand with that, it’ll heal it.”

A warm smile appears on his face, the sides of his eyes crinkled making it more genuine. He was so thankful, he couldn’t seem to think of words to express his gratitude. For years, he was yearning for you to acknowledge his presence and the time finally came, better than what he expected it to turn out to be.

But his smile was enough for your heart to flutter and you started to notice his presence was stronger than ever before, you didn’t know why you hadn’t known him before but at least from now on; the image of his smile would burrow itself in your mind. This would be enough to want to know him more.

The two of you stare at each other for what seems like forever and the other two clear their throats, feeling awkward and unsure what to do or say. You and Harry switch back to reality and the realisation of staring at each other for a while makes you both flustered.

“Thank you Y/N, for everything. You didn’t need to punch Draco though,” Harry laughs and so did the rest of you.

You shake your head, “Nah, that pompous brat deserved it. I made sure to punch him hard so his father would hear about it.” You joked, giggling afterwards.

You faintly smile and point past the trio, indicating that you were going to take your leave. “I’ll see you soon Harry, yeah?” 

He nods and you stroll past him, but not even several meters away until Harry calls out for you: “Hogsmeade. This Saturday, would you come with--”

“Yes.”

You hastily answer back without stopping or glancing back but the both of you knew each one had supported an excited smile, both now looking forward to the date that was soon coming up.

As Harry watches your figure get smaller further down the hallways, he felt his admiration for you become extremely stronger. He saw you as his saviour, back then when he was young and vulnerable but managed to make his childhood happy despite the problems occurring in his household. He saw you as his saviour right now, where he is older and still vulnerable with the bullying and all, but once again, you made his life worthwhile; he didn’t have to worry as much anymore.

He has you by his side now, and he’ll do anything to protect you in return as an act of kindness. Just like what you did by defending him back then.

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 5 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Thor agreed Brianna going to Asgard a good idea as Loki presumed and shielded her from Heimdall's sight as a precautionary measure. Before leaving, the brother's sat observing Little Warrior lead Tony and Pepper to the couch and hand him a usb stick.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A computer virus. My revenge plan was to disembowel Jarvis if you hadn't kept your promise."

Stark eyed Loki who shrugged a shoulder. "Don't look at me. I only learned of it this morning."

"It's my creation, pretty nasty and should be destroyed." Said Brianna.

"How nasty?"

"It bears the potential to wipe out most of New York's power grids."

Tony was momentarily speechless. "I'll do that and am overjoyed you two became friends."

"Me too and sorry for being so rude when you touched my stuff."

"It's alright." Said Pepper.

"No it wasn't. You deserve to know why. Loki mentioned the homeless people right?"

"Yes."

"Dory was the first one I met. Taught me handy street smarts and helped shop for my boy clothes. Ran away from home because her moms boyfriend was a jerk. I encouraged her to call one day and when she learned they split up, convinced her to go home. Really smart person. Dreams of becoming an Astronaut. Anyway, she had a big crush on Captain America and gave me her favorite hat as a gift. Then I met Muriel. A mean looking older lady who was actually super sweet and protected me something fierce. Beat this guy up one night for trying to steal my blanket while cursing him sideways. She loved Chinese food and taught me self defence techniques, like how to poke a hole in someone's brain by shoving a chopstick up their nose."

Everyone's ears and attention piqued as Tony wondered if Muriel was a distant cousin of Sasquatch's. "Hopefully not on live subjects."

"No, silly. On a plastic skull she molded a face onto with clay. I paid for the supplies. Helping police identify people used to be her job in Arizona. Great way to kill zombies though. Best to behead them like with vampires and guarantee they've bit the bullet." Brianna then pulled a gold bracelet with a four leaf clover charm from her pocket. "Muriel was Irish and gave me this for good luck. It's too big so I carry it in my pocket. Before meeting you guys, they were the first people who were super nice to me. I fretted their gifts ruined in the wash."

"I'm sorry." Said Pepper.

"It's okay. I was just a little freaked."

'And nearly built a cave for the abominable snowman.' Thought Stark. "We were more worried about you after the fact."

"I could tell by your happy dance when I woke."

"Hey, badass did one too. In the hall. You didn't see."

Brianna giggled. "Thanks to you both for everything and I'm sorry for lying."

"Meh, we understand."

"I meant about not having a favorite Avenger. It's you uncle Cootyoodles. That's why I sought your help first. The Black Widow was my next stop."

Tony pictured Nat teaching her how to yank teeth out with pliers and felt twice as relieved for keeping that promise. "Nat's eccentric and hates zombies. I'm way more fun." Brianna suddenly hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Awe, Little Warrior. Friends forever?"

"Damn straight!" Then she did the same to Pepper. "I forgot to explain why you're a badass role model. Working so hard to become CEO of a massive company like Stark Industries and executing all that embodies? You rock! I hope to grow up as astute, diligent and athoritative. Maybe I'll run a company one day."

"You already possess those traits and will exceed my achievements."

No one knew that better than Loki who cleared his throat. "Grandmother and Grandfather go to bed early, Min Lille."

"One more minute, please?"

"Alright."

She studied Stark, pondering the best way to implement her request. "You don't have to do this, but… Not all homeless people are bad or crazy like others seem to believe. Many hit hard times and the world is so expensive, they couldn't keep up. No one I met lived on the streets because they wanted to. There just aren't enough shelters or resources available. You're rich Tony and could help them. Will you try?"

As Loki had succeeded with Frigga, those beautiful pleading eyes won her case. "You really know how to pull a guys heart strings, kid. I promise."

Loki wasn't aware she'd intended to ask this, yet was so proud of her. "Min Lille?"

"I know." She politely replied.

"You have to go." Tony suddenly stood and darted for the hall. "Be back in a jiffy."

"Meet him by the elevator, or you'll never leave." Suggested Pepper.

He returned and handed Loki a loaded Iron Man backpack. "More things? Shall I conjure a crate for the bifrost?"

They'd already given her an overstuffed suitcase of clothes and toys and Stark held a gift bag in hand. "Be quiet, you. It's a peanut butter stash. Does Asgard have bananas?"

"Yes." 'Thank the Norn's.'

Tony knelt before Brianna. "I would've packed some tater tots, but you ate them all again."

She smirked. "My goof."

"Rascal. Try to ignore a wee, bitty smidgen, you aren't into girly stuff? We couldn't help ourselves with you off to Asgard."

Brianna pulled from the bag a pink baseball cap that said Warrior Princess in tiny diamond gems and proudly adorned it. "You sure know how to pull a girls heart strings."

"I put some Motown CD's in there too. Teach Dad to moonwalk." Loki sighed, pushed the elevator button and Tony playfully whispered. "From a distance. In case he trips over his own big feet." He hugged her again and summoned Jarvis.

"Yes, sir?"

"Our friend is leaving."

"Goodbye, Little Warrior." Said the AI.

"Bye. Sending you a virtual hug."

She joined Thor inside while Loki shook hands with Tony, his expression saying everything. "Any time. Now get the 'bleep' out of my Tower before I thieve your Daughter."

Brianna shouted as it closed. "There's presents on your bed! I'll miss you!"

Peppers was a black t shirt with gold letters that read Badass Role Model and Tony's was a monsterous box filled with tater tots.

"Don't do it, Butch. If you cry, I'm gonna cry." ***** Loki had purposely slowed the elevator allowing her time to give Thor a drawing.

"Mjolnir in a field of flowers? Thank you fair maiden."

"It's a scratch n' sniff."

"A what?"

Loki picked up Brianna. "You scratch the flowers, then sniff them. The effect is most appealing the stronger you inhale."

Thor took a whiff and wriggled his nose. "Quite the nostril tickler. What should they smell like?"

"Try harder." 'Doofus.'

He took another, looked cross eyed at Loki and began swaying. "...Brother..you…" Then down he went striking the floor with a thud the tip of his nose covered in sparkly dust.

"Sorry, uncle Thor."

Loki chuckled at her wince. "The spell is mild and shall soon wear off."

"Is he hurt?"

Loki let her down to hurle the hefty Thor over his shoulder. "Us God's are resilient. Your uncle once endured a skirmish with the Hulk." After escorting them through a portal and delivering Brother oaf to his bed, he lead Brianna through a second into some woods.

"That was awesome! Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Not in the near future. It's very complicated, darling and I'd hate to think you lost in another dimension." 'Or vanishing one day as an angry teen with a troublesome suitor I dream of throttling.'

"Okay." Brianna nervously scanned the area. "Now what? Carnivores hunt these woods."

"Northern Alberta is home to many. Never go outside without me and none will harm you."

"But wolves hunt in packs and grizzlies are bigger than you."

He booped her little nose. "I'll smell them before they smell us and neither possess deadly weapons in interdimensional pockets."

"Where our luggage is? I tried hiding bigger items in them and the darn things wouldn't come back. Hannah was furious, but I didn't care."

"What did you hide?"

"The back wheels of her Lamborghini, Gallardo. I overheard my Mother tell Claudia she got it from her rich boyfriend."

Loki recalled from spending time with Stark this wasn't a billionaire's vehicle, yet financially unattainable to the average Midgardian. "I see. Did she mention his occupation?"

"Plastic surgeon."

Brianna deserved that minor victory and although he wouldn't encourage it, one cannot preach vengeance a negative path when mapping their own. 'Perhaps he'll be useful to the sluts after I'm done.' "Ah. Care to see what I did while you slept last night?"

"You left me?" She confusedly asked.

He picked her up again. "It was necessary and I returned, yes? I won't abandon you, Og Min Lille."

"Never?"

"Never, darling. "Loki headed for a shack nearby nestled amidst some bushes. With its crooked roof, faded wood and door minus a hinge the structure looked ready to collapse.

"We're staying there?"

"Why not? I'll conjure an outdoor toilet." He teased. "Sheltered of course."

"Ewww."

"Come now. At night we'll have heated beds and during the day, roast squirrels on an open fire."

She scrunched her face in disgust. "Blech! I'd rather eat tree bark."

"You'll get an awful tummy ache."

They entered the dingy space and Brianna instantly focused on the filthy floor covered in forest debris. So intently, she didn't notice the sturdier frames of the structure only visible from within. "How will we keep the door closed and is that poop?"

Loki rolled his eyes at some turds in a corner. "The cabin is made of Brazilian Ebony."

"One of the strongest woods on earth." She commented.

He arched an intrugued brow. "Stained to appear aged, it's also bulletproof in light of human hunters. Consider the other materials deceiving movie props. The 'raccoon' poop is genuine." It vanished with a wave of his hand. "Now, did you mean that door?" It closed and he conjured a deadbolt onto the surface with a panel directly above. "Place your hand in the center?" Brianna did and it glowed green, spreading magic from the center throughout every surface like glowing, emerald fireflies. As they dimmed, Loki turned around. "Or this one?" The floor, suddenly cleared of debris had a sliding glass door in the center.

Brianna gasped in wonder, glancing between him and the mystery beneath. "Where does it go?"

"Did you think a sorcerer Prince would allow his Princess daughter to dwell in a shabby old shack?"

"Ancestry aside, I sincerely hoped not. Even an RV would've been better."

He chuckled at her frankness. "And you worried of uncle Thor bumping his head? The shacks purpose was added safety should a need arise and to keep our secret entrance hidden. "Once the outer door locks, only the interior alters. To outsiders, nothing changes." It opened and he carried her down a mutedly lit spiral staircase, each step progressively illuminating the space below.

At the bottom, she slid from his arm in awe. "Shut the front door! You 'definitely' have to teach me how to do this."

Min Lille was referencing conjuring. Another ability Loki thanked the Norns she didn't yet possess, having confessed so before requesting Tony and Pepper's gifts. "In time. Beyond that archway, another surprise awaits." Loki followed and suddenly pondered Brianna conjuring a future dwelling for herself and that troublesome suitor. 'Lessons commence when your forty.' ***** Thor woke to find two notes in his shirt pocket. One for himself the other, Astrid; 'Sleep well, Brother? We won't be returning to Asgard just yet. Please give this to my wife? I recommend waiting several days, discreet delivery and a hasty exit. A visit will follow and when interrogated, lie. Tell her Brianna came to you and don't mention her ice concoction. Unless you enjoy Father's company when several fries short of a happy meal. As I planned our escape without Tony's knowledge, do avoid his unnecessary panic and Pepper seeking our demise, by not telling our dear friend? Min Lille is safe.'

"That shyster." He grumbled. Jane returned in six days as would Astrid to a missing Loki. Waiting risked a molotov cocktail interrogation. His beloved and coronary inducing sister-in-law, banging down their locked bathroom door while the mighty Thor coward behind a shower curtain. Plus Maxi Waxis training schedule ended in two days. Bribery assured those lips zippered, but Heimdall would think his hastiness suspicious. He called to the trainee in the middle of the night, snuck into the palace and raced back to the observatory like the looney tunes road runner. "Spend it well nincompoo..eh he, Max. Asgard is lucky to have you."

Guilt ridden over her outburst and already missing Loki, Astrid returned in the morning to find the note.

Frigga was preparing to join her belly dancing instructor when she barged into the foyer and flung herself at the Allmother.

"Bwaaahahaa! I want a divorce!"

"Hells bells and bilgesnipe testicles. What has my shameless son done this time?"

"Frigga, your language." Scolded Odin.

She patted Astrid's back. "Oh shush. As if your cursing hasn't scarred the servants ears."

[mukamibabe]

What would the S & M brothers think of me? I have peach colored hair that's very wavy and long (mid-drift), I'm 5'0, and I have dark green eyes (pale skin too). I like girly things and I was in ballet for most of my life so I chronically good posture. I love reading and animals. Also, I love to paint. All my friends say I'm the mother of the group because I'm super sweet and nurturing.

Sakamaki’s:

Shu: 

• i feel like he’d really like your hair for some reason? 

• he pretends not to be interested in the ballet thing, but he does think it’s kinda cool

• he doesn’t really have much of an opinion on you, like he doesn’t hate you, and you seem like a decent person

• except sometimes motherly type of people make him frustrated,, because he doesn’t want to get nagged around?

• but to him, you actually don’t seem bad and you seem to have good hobbies and interests so..~

Reiji:

• omg the fact that you have good posture is something he really appreciates

• like.. a lot. and he’ll let you know that he likes it, too. he’d often praise you for it, and if he ever notices a change in your posture, he might have to get the whip out

• honestly, i feel like reiji would think you’re like.. his perfect type? he’d never admit that but ballet is something very ladylike, as well as classy, and he likes that. animals? cute. reading? even better! painting? good!! 

• also the fact that you’re the mom friend just makes him want you even more. you guys are going to be the moms of the sakamaki household sorry i don’t make the rules

• yeah.. i can.. kind of see him going a lil yandere over you??? ...he likes you a lot. believe me when i say that-

Ayato:

• short girls are always fun!! because he likes knowing that he’s taller than people because !! power,, yknow

• he’s not really into the whole ‘girly girl ballet thing’, though. he might make fun of you for it, just because it’s so boring and according to him, involves nothing fun or dangerous/thrilling

• you two really don’t share interests, and at first he thinks your pretty boring,, like reiji, but if you make an effort to get close with him, i could see it working out

• he might try and get you to do things that he likes, like basketball.. probably cooking.?? he just wants to ‘help’ you be less boring

• also at first, with the motherly thing, he says he hates it, and will probably act like he hates it but honestly? he would love for you to take care of him and just.. shower him in love and appraisal 

Kanato:

• he doesn’t think much about you at first, but you’re??? really cute??? like reiji, he’s really into the whole good posture thing

• also you’re so pale, and he loves that. even your hair color, and your eyes.. and your height!! physically, he likes you a lot

• i think he’d like the fact that you did ballet, because he feels like it’s something an innocent, doll-like girl would do. obviously, he likes that

• again, like reiji, i think he’d really!!! really!!! like you. and once kanato likes someone/something, he’s going to get it, and nothing’s going to stop him

• also,, another thing, like ayato, if you start acting motherly towards him, he will LOVE YOU- do that and yeah.. he’ll be even more obsessed

Laito:

• ok first of all, you seem so innocent,, and you know what that means!! he wants to break you!!

• except if you are patient enough, you are probably capable of teaching him what real love is. it’s a challenge, but i’m positive you’d be able to be a good s/o for him

• at first, he’s not interested in your hobbies. usually, he never is- but once he starts getting closer to you, he’ll really appreciate them

• like.. they’re so simple but ballet is challenging, and he likes how graceful it looks. painting too, he really likes seeing that creative aspect of things

• over all, you seem like a pretty good girl to him, and at first, that means he wants to ruin you, but if!! you two ever get close, i could even see you two having a very good relationship, both romantic and/or platonic

Subaru:

• you seem so perfect?? so gentle, so pure.. his first thought is to stay away from you because he knows he’s going to hurt you

• except the thought of tainting you.. is quite exciting for him, and he hates that.

• he probably doesn’t allow himself to get to know you better, just because he knows he’s going to dirty you, so i imagine if you ever try to be nice to him, he’ll tell you to go away unless you want him to break you

• once he’s aware that you presumably are.. okay with that,, you two would get along pretty well!! of course, he’s still his usual hot headed self, but i think he’d really like watching you paint, or do ballet, if you still do it

• also i can totally see you two really liking animals together? if you do get in a relationship with him, i imagine it’d be something you’d bond over

Mukami’s:

Ruki:

• he doesn’t like to make assumptions about people, but you don’t seem bad? except you are a woman, and a human, and he’s not one to trust people so..

• you seem pretty good though!! and if he didn’t have such trust issues, he’d get along with you very well

• you two would be really good reading buddies!! idk what type of things you enjoy reading, but he’d like to read with you!!

• even the painting and ballet? that’s so great!! you have really tame hobbies, and he likes that a lot

• also.. like reiji- you two are now the moms of the mukami household except!! unlike reiji, ruki is still the main mom

Kou:

• other than the ballet thing, you don’t really stick out to him

• he likes dancing, and he’d love to see your skills that you’ve gotten from practicing ballet, but other than that, you’re not really interesting to him

• he won’t show his mean, nasty side to you unless you’re just.. really bitchy to him, or if you end up in a relationship with him

• other than that, he’s nice!! he’s the nice, cheerful, friendly idol that everyone else gets to see

• he might even offer to teach you how to dance, and maybeeee he’ll ask for tips? he’d be interested in seeing how you do ballet and stuff

Yuma:

• ...like ruki, he hates to be so judgmental, but... you look and sound like someone who would not want to get their hands dirty?

• and i mean, he doesn’t hate that, but.. if you’re not going to help him, he’s not going to want to know you any more

• that doesn’t mean he wont give you a chance, though! 

• if you make an effort to get to know him, and if you seem like a pretty chill person, sharing similar opinions, then he’ll warm up to you

• especially if he finds out about how caring you are? i think he’d really appreciate that!! not really interested in ballet, painting, or reading, but animals?? that’s something he’s interested in!

Azusa:

• he thinks you’re really pretty? like.. really, really pretty? even the way you hold yourself, and the general look on your face feels really inviting to him

• i don’t know how you’d end up meeting, but i think azusa would shyly try to introduce himself to you just because he has a really good feeling about you

• he’s likes the ballet thing, and will ask you if it hurt, and honestly?? he might even try it a little?? 

• he doesn’t really like reading, and would prefer to do something else, but i feel like if you two had a good relationship, he might paint with you, rather than harming himself

• he just likes you a lot ok?? he wants you to take care of him, and love on him. even though he’ll ask you to hurt him, he’ll come to realize he just really enjoys your company

[spn-fic-promts]

Like a girl (5 times Dean felt like a girl + 1 time Sam praised him for it)

TW: Rape/non-con, bullying, depression, self hatred and self harm.

Dean WInchester has always had problems with his body. As with most of his problems they all started when he was 4 and his mom died. Dean had to raise his baby brother with very little help from his father. His father who could hardly look at him. And all because Dean looked too much like a girl. Too much like his mom.

The kids at school commented on it as well. Mostly the other boys making fun of him. He always made better friends with the girls. They loved how long his eyelashes are or how pretty his eyes and freckles were. Meanwhile the boys would call him a girl and tell him he couldn’t do things. When he got older that turned into making him use the girls bathrooms and locker rooms. Or calling him names and saying he was gay.

And at home he had to act like a girl. Well a mom at least. He knew he had to take care of Sammy no matter what. Whether Sam realized it or not. If that meant feeding Sammy and not himself, Dean stayed skinny. If that meant buying Sammy new clothes and not himself, Dean wore Sams hand-me-downs. If that meant keeping johns drunken attention on him and not Sammy, Dean covered the bruises as best he could. If dad needed help on dangerous hunts, Dean was there not Sam. Never Sam.

He had to be the big brother, the dad, and the mom.

Like a girl.

------------------------

When he was 14 his father came home one day drunk. Dean had just finished putting Sammy to bed and was doing the dishes. His father came home to see him acting like a stay at home mom and mistook him for his dead wife. John stumbled over to Dean and wrapped his arms around his waist. His hands nearly connecting over Deans belly.

“Whatta ya doin’ babe?” John slurred in Deans ear.

Dean froze, “I’m doing the dishes dad. Are you ok?”

“Oohho yeah baby I’m fine. Especially now I get to play daddy again. Huh” John roughly turned Dean around in his arms and shoved his head into Deans neck.

“Ah! Dad!! Your drunk. You need to go to bed!” Dean gasped as his father sucked on his neck.

“Mhm yeah lets get to bed sweatheart.” John scooped Dean up bridal style as if he weighed nothing, and started stomping towards the bedroom of the motel. 

“No, no! Dad Sammy’s in here. You can’t!” Dean wriggled in Johns grasp.

John actually stopped and looked as if he was contemplating something. He turned around and started back. Dean let out a sigh of relief. Then John spoke up about what was on his mind. “It’s a good thing I got a room with a seperate room with a couch.

“No!” He screamed.

Like a girl

---------------------

In the morning John didn’t remember anything. Dean remembered it all. That week John left for another hunt and didn’t leave enough money. Sam needed new textbooks for 6th grade (after skipping 5th.) He was already bigger than Dean and would need more clothes. And Dean still had to feed him.

So Dean decided to use his femininity to his advantage. After Sammy would go to sleep Dean would lock all the doors and go to the nearest gas station in the skimpiest clothes he could find. 

Like a girl.

----------------------

Dean dropped out of school in 10th grade. While Sam skipped another year in 7th grade. Jumping straight to highschool at 12. It was hard to keep Sam in school while they moved around for hunts. But Dean made sure he went as much as possible. And taught him as much as he could on his own.

Dean had to go away on hunts more and more with their father. Leaving Sammy to fend for himself. Dean got in more and more trouble by leaving Sam extra money. He was constantly getting hurt by the monsters and told to man up.

Even the monsters commented on how girly he looked. So he decided to start trying to be more boyish. Taking girls out, working out more, being more reckless, and acting more ‘manly.’

Sammy eventually graduated and went away to Stanford. Dean was happy for him but was convinced that his brother simply didn’t want to be around him anymore. And Dean couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to be around himself either. This was the point when Dean hit rock bottom. He started carving words into his thighs. Words like pretty, and girl. He cried in the bathroom while bleeding from between his legs.

Like a girl.

--------------------------

The first time Sam kissed him Dean panicked. They were in a motel in Texas on a hunt. Sam was currently soulless. And Dean was taking advantage of him. Yeah. Dean was taking advantage of the big, strong, muscly, man that he lived with.

Like a girl.

------------------------

“Dean” Sam called for his brother through the bunker.

“Yeah Sammy I’m just getting out of the shower!” Dean called back. Sam started his way to ambush Dean in the bathroom.

Yeah Sam was sorta horny for his big brother. And he knew Dean felt the same way. They had kissed and made out a lot since the first time when he was soulless. Sam also knew he had forced himself on Dean. Luckily Dean had run away before Sam could do more.

But since then their relationship had progressed. They held hands while not in public. Hugged while relaxing (”It’s called cuddling Dean.” “Not with me it’s not”) They made out a lot. But Dean wouldn’t let Sam get any further than that.

Sam knew about Deans self esteem problems. He knew that’s why Dean acted all macho like he did. Sam hated that. Hated that Dean covered himself up like that. Forced himself to be something Sam knew he wasn’t. Sam just wanted him to be himself. Just wanted his brother.

So Sam didn’t know exactly what sort of messed up blame he put on himself that’s making him not want Sam to have sex with him but Sam plans on fixing it tonight.

Sam quietly crept into the bathroom Dean was in. His brother was looking in the mirror and holding a towel around his hips. Sam crept up behind him and snuck his arms around Deans waiste. Still so small but with rock solid abs.

“S-Sammy? What are ya doin’?” Dean whispered as Sam inhaled his body wash.

“Just admiring my beautiful big brother. I wish I knew why you won’t let me touch you Dean. It’s all I can do to hold myself back.” Sam purred in Deans ear.

“No Sam you don’t want that. You don’t want that at all.” Dean grimaced at himself in the mirror.

“Why not Dean. Why would anyone not want you? Perfect. You so perfect Dean. So much smaller than me but still so strong. I love it Dean. I love your body. And anyone in their right mind would to if they saw it.” Sam met Deans eyes in the mirror.

Dean held his gaze and whispered “are you calling me crazy?”

Sam withdrawed his hands, shocked. “What- Dean-But-You-How?-Why?”

“Very articulate little brother.” Dean chuckled. Then he turned in Sams loosened hold and sighed. “If we’re really gonna do this then theirs some things I need to tell you.”

“Yeah Dean whatever you want. I’m listening.” Sam complied as Dean sat on the edge of a bathtub. Sam following suit.

“Remember when we were little and dad would always say I looked like mom?” Dean explained everything that had ever happened to him because of his looks. Explained what their dad did, the kids at school, men on the streets who paid him to do things he didn’t want to. He told him he’d been depressed after he left. That he had contemplates suicide. But he left out the words on his legs. Figuring Sam would see them for himself.

“Oh my god. Dean I’m so sorry.” Sam has pulled Dean into his lap. Held him tightly while they both cried.

“It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. Any of it.” Dean whispered.

“But I could have stopped so much of it if I’d just payed more attention. If I’d jumped out of my own little world for just one minute I could have prevented some of your suffering.” Sam sobbed into Deans shoulder.

“That wasn’t your responsibility-“

“And it wasn’t yours to sell your body to keep me fed!” Sam inturupts him. “Dean I used to beg you for more stuff. And you always got them for me. And I never realized that you were starving yourself to get them! I didn’t even need half the things I asked for! I was just being selfish!”

“It’s ok Sammy. Shh it’s ok.” Dean rubs gentle circles into Sams head while he holds him.

“I should be comforting you.” Sam states wettly.

“It’s ok. Hey hey look at me.” Dean pulls Sams face out of his neck. “I don’t know if you still want to but if you do. We can have sex now. I understand if after what I told you you’d be dis-“

“Of course I still want to Dean! God is that why you were hiding. You thought I’d be turned off by what you’ve been through. Dean I meant what I said earlier. Your beautiful! And perfect! And everything I’ve ever wanted. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realize it.” Sam stands up abruptly, causing Dean to wrap his legs around Sams waiste. “I wish I could have taken your virginity before dad did.” Sam says between kisses.

“Oh my god! Sam! Don’t say that!” Dean laughs.

“Why not?”

“1 ew don’t mention dad. 2 you were ten!” Dean says matter of factly.

“So? I was a horny ten year old. And I was already bigger than you.” He chuckles and Dean smacks him on the side of the head.

They get to the bedroom and Sam literally throws Dean on the bed. Dean bounces a few times as his towel starts to slip from his hips.

Sam makes a move to pull it the rest of the way off but Dean stops him. “Nuh uh. You first big guy. I don’t know if you’ve realized but I’m practically naked and your still fully clothed.”

Sam hastily rips off his clothes and throws them around the room while dean sits back to admire the view.

“Better?” Sam smirks cockily.

“Much.” Dean holds out his arms for Sam to fall into.

“Your.” Kiss to the jaw. “So.” Kiss to the neck. “Fucking.” One to each nipple. “Pretty.” One to the belly button.

Dean freezes on the last word. “What’s the matter?” Sam looks up at Dean worriedly.

“See for yourself.” Dean pulls the towel off himself and spreads his legs. Sam instinctively slots himself between them before kissing the tip of Deans cock.

“Dean are these?”

“Yeah.”

“Your not a girl. Your the most fucking perfect guy I’ve ever met.” Sam kisses the word.

“Your not my mom. Your my big brother. Your my whole world.” Sam kisses the word mom next.

“Your not a slut. Your the most selfless person I’ve ever met. And you have the most attractive body I’ve ever seen.” Sam kisses that word.

“And your not just pretty. Your beautiful. And I’ll never stop telling you just how beautiful and pressious you are.” Sam holds up Deans leg. The muscle twitching in his palm. And kisses the word.

When Sam crawls back up to see Deans face, he finds his brother covering his mouth behind his palm. Silent tears spilling from love filled eyes.

“I love you so much Dean. More than anything.” Sam whispers as he finally kisses Deans perfect, plump lips.

“I love you to Sammy.”

[entrance01]

Highlighter and Bronzer: Constant Dualities in Makeup Culture

As written by a makeup user

Makeup is highly polarizing subject to the people who wear it, refuse to wear it, and resign to wear it, and speaking honestly? It can get hard to keep a singular, straight thought about it. Personally speaking at least.

A lot of the topics mentioned were usually written separately, and that’s fine. One person posting how makeup praises European features isn’t wrong! Just like another post saying how makeup fetishizes black features/trying to pass as “racially ambiguous” also isn’t wrong! These two separate camps, among the others I will touch on later, can both exist in the same realm. It’s just our job to see both sides and how either and both affect people.

I know this is far from being the first makeup-critical post nor its last, but throughout my years on this hell site, I have stumbled across numerous articles and thoughts. They are all wonderful and are written with more insight than I could ever, but this compilation is (mostly) for me.

Eurocentric Beauty Standards and Modern Black/Brownface

What do we see when we open Instagram or look up makeup artists on Youtube? Most probably the same cut and crease. The same extensive bronzer. The same cut cheekbones. The same C-shaped highlighted area. And you get the point! But what does it mean? Am I just ragging on the go-to, tried and true looks? Well yes. I hate seeing a lack of creativity, but I want to look deeper into what these artists are choosing to accentuate; what they are choosing to accentuate or hide; what they are choosing to do with their natural skin colour.

One tumblr user (that has since left this site) said, you can’t divorce beauty culture from white supremacy. And they were right. A lot of IG/YT tends still uphold whiteness as a kind of ideal! This perpetuation could be as innocent as contouring tutorials telling viewers to give themselves high cheekbones; a small, straight nose; deeper set eyes; “melon seed” jaws; etc., to an industry-wide problem like Snapchat/IG filters lightening skin tones and companies not providing a ful, broad range of foundations and concealers.

It really wasn’t until, like, what? 2017? where Fenty Beauty made a foundation line with a thorough and broad spectrum that covered almost every skin tone. And that is a travesty! What were you telling these women (and men)? “You should be going lighter than your actual skin shade”? But what’s more insidious than that is actually going out and making skin brightening products for women, especially in countries where colorism is more pronounced –like Central and South America and Asia (especially South and Southeast Asia).

The latter is not just an instance of not a lack of representation (and yes, I acknowledge that we ought to see more darker skinned actors and celebrities and so forth) but is something that can affect the livelihoods of people. Without a doubt, people treat you differently if you look a certain way. It becomes easier to navigate through society! Job prospects open up once you fit these standards, even if they are racist; one non-makeup example is how black women are expected to straighten their hair for jobs, have something like 1A to 2C hair, while other manageable hair styles that are more unique to women with 3A-4C hair (box braids, cornrows, etc.) are seen as inappropriate. But at the same time, non-black people go and appropriate these looks.

As tumblr user estoma6mp (now, luzonbleedingheart) mentioned in their (now deleted) post, what is overlining/plumping their lips and taking the styles of black women other than imitating blackness/modernized blackface? Look at Ariana Grande. The Jenners. These parties “tan” and “bronze” to achieve… I think a certain “racial ambiguity” as well as… just stealing the creative thoughts of African American (and also Latinx) women. It’s…. the coveting and commodification of “ethnic” features and styles for the sake of seeming fashionable and clout while also resting comfortably knowing that you can take off all the bronzer at the end of the day.

The Sexualization of Makeup and Children and the Infantilizing of Grown Women

The names of products and shades are undoubtedly important in creating an image and a connection in the minds of consumers. Like, what does “Killawatt” put in your mind, in my mind, other than something super bright and fluorescent like concert lights? But not all makeup will have simple names like “rose” or “peony” for lipsticks. Those don’t have enough edge. It doesn’t sell sex. But should makeup have to sell sex?

As marisatomay said in her post, makeup companies shouldn’t be naming their products after sexual terms. She goes to list names like “climax” and “super orgasm” and puns like “glow job” that may seem far fetched and almost like a strawman, but no. Those are actual names. Just look at the lip gloss selection from NARS’ site: Orgasm, Super Orgasm, First Time, Strip Tease, Triple X, are just a handful of names. There are so much more I’m not mentioning! I wouldn’t be so opposed to this naming convention if it weren’t for the fact that there are plenty of young girls who are looking to makeup as a form of expression.

Now, whether children and young teenagers should be using makeup is another point of debate. If a child wants to play with makeup and draw flowers on their face and add glitter, that’s fine! It’s all in good fun. But the moment you have girls as young as 7 or 8 becoming makeup artists, contouring, beating their faces, making themselves look like they are in their 20s, that’s where things get concerning. Like, we should let children be children and allow them creativity, but creativity with makeup is hard because the line between having fun and feeling like you need to conform to certain looks/have certain knowledge about making yourself look “beautiful” is getting more and more blurred. It’s already terrible to see elementary school children think that they need to look a certain way, wear makeup a certain way to be seen as pretty, but the makeup industry isn’t just exploiting these young girls’ insecurities. They also exploit the girls themselves. When we see brands posting closeup videos of young girls putting on lip gloss, lips parted, it evokes a certain image.

On the other hand, however, I’ve also seen makeup palettes that are very reminiscent of childhood. Saffron-Sugar wrote on her blog, that a lot of makeup also has an “unpleasantly infantilizing tone,” and I agree! Like, which makeup company hasn’t collaborated with Disney? Mermaid, unicorn, faerie, and even dessert themed products are omnipresent. This by itself isn’t that much of an issue –these are cute aesthetics, and I can get behind some of them—but it really patronizes a lot of adult women. These circumstances emphasize certain connotations with regards to (perhaps feigned) girliness.

While I said makeup can sexualize minors and expose them to unwarranted sexual tension, makeup can also sexualize that same young, innocent image in women. It’s the idea of recapturing girlhood and innocence and purity. It’s sickening because it kinda adds this “barely legal” culture –where men wait for girls to turn 18 as if legality is the only thing that differentiates a girl from a woman. And this is disgusting.

Empowerment and Societal Coercion and the Industry that Doesn’t Care

I’m glad to be living in a time and a world where I can speak my thoughts openly and find ways to be myself, but… I think it’s also this individualism that gives us all an overinflated sense of self. It’s difficult to openly criticize our behavior, our actions, as consumers and as people in a capitalistic society because so many of us do take these as personal attacks. As if we were exempt from reflecting on ourselves and have free reign to perpetuate harmful ideology and phenomena.

So…. It was, like, 2012? 2013? Where we got all these “eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man!!” and “blind them with your highlighter!” comments and posts. The idea, if I recall everything correctly, was that… a lot of girls, a lot of women, were emphasizing that they weren’t wearing makeup for anyone else other than themselves. And I think that is a wonder idea. It’s nice that you can make a hobby out of this, but I also know that there are plenty of others who are less than enthused about makeup.

I don’t hate on the women in the above scenario, totally don’t! But they can’t go around yelling how something (especially makeup) is a choice when to many others it isn’t. Plenty of women feel like they need to wear makeup in order to better navigate through society. As a personal anecdote, I know that I have been treated far better as a person the moment I “glowed up” and tried to coordinate outfits better/put on makeup in a more conventionally attractive manner/adhering to certain beauty standards. I know that in some service jobs such as waiting tables, the number of tips a waiter gets can be determined by her makeup. And let’s not even go into mental health professionals and their patients wearing makeup! It’s unrealistic the amount of time women has to spend on our appearances just to be treated like “normal.”

And the thing is, the makeup industry doesn’t care if you’re either woman! These million-dollar companies, founded on the institutional control of how women look and behave, are getting money from both camps. Advertisement will be sprinkled with buzzwords such as “empowering” and “girl boss” but those are empty words when all they want is to bank on these trends and women’s wants and/or insecurities.

 And here’s the part where I struggle to conclude all my thoughts. Like my previous post about art commissions and business, this is nothing more than a rehash of what people before me have said: I just wanted to compile everything in a more accessible post for myself, rather than scroll through my makeup tag on my main blog. But I guess I need to have some form of closure for anybody who has actually stuck around to get here (and thank you for doing so!).

All of the circumstances mentioned are… quite separate from each other all things considered, but they are all part of a larger, more foreboding culture that makes women feel like they need to look a certain way (even if they think they are being unique and creative). Indeed, makeup is a form of expression and creativity for a lot of women, but to just blindly act without any insight on what you are consuming, what you are doing, and why you are doing it, is honestly irresponsible. Like any other part of culture, a part of media (especially social), we need to see who is benefiting from our actions and who is getting hurt.

[ffismynotsoguiltypleasure]

Isn’t there anything else to talk about? Pt. 3

Part 3 is finally here.

Part 1

Part 2

Saturday indeed started out as a day like any other. Hermione had breakfast in the Great Hall with Neville and the girls. One of the school owls brought her a present from her parents, a delicate silver necklace with a locket and a family picture from that year's trip to France. Neville gave ger a beautiful quill-set. The girls were more secretive about their gifts, saying they will give them to her in the dorm in the evening. Hermione looked at them suspiciously, but let it go for now. She decided to just enjoy a nice quiet day at Hogwarts, without worrying about anything, including professor Potter. No such luck. The man must be everywhere. It was no surprise to see him at breakfast, however when she went to the library, he was there, talking to madam Pince. When she decided to go for a stroll around the school grounds, she met him just at the door, also on his way out. She quickened her pace just to avoid conversation.

'Hello, Miss Granger,' he said with a smile.

'Hello, professor,' she replied sternly and hastily tried to get out of his sight, quite unsuccessfully.

'It's a nice day for a walk, isn't it?' He seemed to be lost in fond memories, softly smiling at the view in front of him.

'Yes, very much so. If you'll excuse me,' she uttered annoyed with him and almost ran, trying to get away from him. Did he really have to get in her way all the time? Even on her birthday?

Harry was left standing in the doorway, looking at her almost running, just to get as far from him as possible. What a pity, he thought, he might have teased her for a little while longer.

In the afternoon Hermione retreated to the common room, aiming towards her favourite armchair by the fireplace, only to find it occupied by Romilda Vane and her friends, once again plotting how to capture professor Potter. She turned around and annoyed stomped in the direction of the library again. She was so engrossed in mentally cursing Romilda Vane and Harry Potter, that she literally slammed into someone in the doorway.

'Whoa,' despite being surprised the person grasped her arms before she could fall on her butt from the force of the impact.

Why? Why did it have to be him of all the people inhabiting the castle? What are even the odds of meeting him so many times during one day?

'Miss Granger, are you alright?' he interrupted her thoughts, sounding concerned, even though she was the one who almost knocked him to the ground.

'Y-yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry,' she stammered, dumbfounded for a second. Why him again? Didn't he have anywhere else to go? Like his office? Doen’t he have any homework to grade or something? Noooo.... he had to get in her way again and again. And she was so hoping for a Potter-free evening.

'I'll be on my way now, if you'll excuse me,' she started, but then she caught his gaze. His eyes were really green.

What the heck was she thinking about? Who cares about the colour of his eyes?

After what felt like hours he slowly released her. He seemed a little bit perplexed, but he quickly shook it off and became his annoying self once again.

'Of course, Miss Granger, but maybe we should stop running into each other. Especially in the literal sense of the word,' he winked at her with a smirk.

She attempted to come up with a witty response that might wipe that smug expression off of his face, but failed miserably. He was... just... sooooo... ugh!!!

'I-I-I’m s-sorry. Goodnight, professor,' she found her words again as she slowly stepped away, realizing only then how close they were standing.

‘Goodnight, Miss Granger.’ He swiftly walked past her as if nothing had happened.

What the fuck was that? Hermione looked at his retreating back, still trying to process what had just happened, coming up with no actual explanation.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts at least a little. She entered the library with her mind full of that exasperating guy.

Hermione could not sit still. Her mind kept coming back to that short moment when she bumped into him, when he held her, when he didn’t let go. How he looked at her.

What was wrong with her? She was never so hung up about a guy, any guy. And now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t stop thinking about one, a teacher at that.

Exasperated she decided to come back to the dorm. She might just get into her nice and comfy pjs and go to sleep. No harm in that.

When Hermione entered the dorm room she shared with her classmates, she was welcomed by a shout of ‚Happy birthday!‘ from Lavender and Parvati.

‘Thank you, guys!’ Her smile attempt was only half-way successful and both girls quickly caught up on that.

‘Okay, spill, what happened?’ Lavender asked straight away.

‘Nothing.’

‘Don’t lie to me. I can see something happened. It’s your 17th birthday, it’s supposed to be perfect. Who destroyed your mood and needs to be destroyed in return? Who dared to get in your way on this day?’ Lavender rambled threateningly.

‘No, it’s nothing really. I just got myself riled up about something dumb and ruined your surprise party. I’m sorry, but right now I just want to forget about everything that happened throughout the day and concentrate on the now. Can we?’ Hermione pleaded, hoping to erase the bitter taste the day and the last encounter with the new teacher left in her mouth.

‘You’re the birthday girl, you’re the boss.’ Lavender announced. ‘So get into your pjs and let’s get this party started!’

The girls had it all thought through. They prepared butterbeers, more candy than the whole Gryffindor house could eat, and somehow they even snook in some sherry and firewhiskey. Hermione frowned disapprovingly (she was a prefect!), but the girls told her they did it all for her, since she is the only legal adult and since it’s her birthday, she should have a couple shots.

‘Come on, Hermione. It’s a tradition. Everyone who achieves adulthood should get some drinks on their birthday. You’re finally legal. You can drink and no one can tell you off because of it, so do it just this one time. Pleaaaaaaaase.’ Lavender was pulling all the cards.

‘But I don’t even like the taste,’ Hermione started.

‘You don’t drink for the taste,’ Parvati argued.

‘Look, if you want we can make it a small drinking game. With all three of us.’

‘And what happened to me being the only one drinking?’ Hermione teased.

‘Oh, come oooon...’ Lavender whined.

‘Fine, fine.’ Hermione acquiesced. ‘But when I say we stop, we stop.’

‘Of course.’ Lavender was nodding her head so vehemently, Hermione worried it might fall off if she went on.

‘But I have one more condition.’ Hermione looked at her roommates with a spark in her eyes. ‘I would like to finally see my birthday gift.’

They all laughed. Lavender winked at Parvati, who promptly took a large box from one of their beds and handed it to Hermione with the words: ‘Happy birthday from both of us, Hermione, hope you will enjoy your present.’

Hermione eyed the box suspiciously. ‘Did you get me some kind of a love potion?’

‘No, of course not. What do you take us for?’ Lavender defended them. ‘Our gift is a little bit more straightforward. No underhanded tactics, I swear.’

Hermione lifted the lid of the box and under a layer of soft paper she found a rather small book in a leather binding.

‘A Hundred Magical Tips for a Magical Time. What is that? Sounds like some shady wizarding sex manual.’ Hermione laughed. Lavender and Parvati looked at each other and she realized that that’s exactly what it was. Her smile dropped. ‘Seriously? What the hell am I supposed to do with this?’

‘Well, you see, this is just a part of your gift. Check the rest of the box first.’ Parvati smiled at her expectantly.

‘Fine,’ Hermione grumbled and rummaged around the box a little more. She took out a small potion vial with a dark red liquid inside, a chalice, a candle, some herbs and an envelope.

‘Okay, what is going on here? Are you guys trying to pull a prank on me?’ Hermione asked suspiciously.

‘Not really.’ Parvati answered. ‘See, me and Lav have been trying to figure out what could be a fun gift for your birthday, so you would remember it forever. And while looking for ideas, we stumbled upon an old spell.’

‘What spell?’ Hermione’s suspition just grew.

‘Open the envelope and see for yourself.’

Hermione took the small envelope with her name and found it to contain a very-old-looking parchment. ‘The finding spell? I have never heard of that.’ She started reading and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or just give in. ‘Is this thing supposed to find one’s soulmate?’ she finally asked.

‘Ehm… yes? We thought it might be fun to do something girly like a love spell, though not a creepy or a corny one, of course, just something that may or may not be true,’ Lavender tried to explain.

‘So all these things are necessary for the spell?’ Hermione eyed the chalice and herbs.

‘Not all of them. Just a few. The rest was a small prank, like you should definitely use them when you find the other half of your soul that you are destined to be with foreveeeeer.’ Lavender sang the last word.

‘So you mean to say that when I find my oh, one and only true love I should shag them senseless using tricks from the book?’

‘Basically,’ Lavender gave her an unapologetic grin.

‘You know what? Let’s do this. I’m so over today, I might as well do at least one dumb thing to last me a lifetime. But first, I think I’m gonna need that drink.’

‘As you wish.’ Parvati was already filling glasses with some of the firewhiskey.

‘Happy birthday, Hermione, may all your dreams come true,’ Parvati started.

‘Especially the dirty ones,’ Lavender finished.

‘Thank you both,’ Hermione laughed and the girls downed their drinks. ‘Okay, let’s do this!’

They all sat down and started preparations for the spell. Hermione gathered all the thing she found in the box.

‘No, we don’t need that vial,’ Lavender waved her hand dismissively when Hermione reached for it.

‘No? What is it then?’ she asked.

‘It is… how would I describe it… A sort of an energy renewal potion,’ Lavender retorted.

‘Oh, and what kind exactly?’ Hermione wouldn’t back off, knowing there is more to it than just replenishing one’s strength.

‘If you want to know, it is meant to be used with that book we got you.’

Hermione’s face heated up and she dropped the small vial as if it were on fire. ‘I’m so never gonna use that.’ Despite her embarrassment she laughed.

The spell itself was very simple. Just a few words recited, while burning the herbs in the chalice. When all the ingredients changed to ashes, they put them in a small vial. Hermione is supposed to keep it and open it only when she is sure she found the right person.

‘That’s it?’ she asked curiously.

‘Yes, according to the instructions. Now we just wait for your Mr. Right to appear out of thin air to woo you and sweep you off your feet.’

‘Ha-ha, as if.’ Hermione laughed sarcastically. ‘But I have to admit, I will remember the birthday when my roommates have tried to get me a soulmate to have sex with all night long.’ She couldn’t hold back her giggles anymore.

‘Cheers to that!’ Lavender started refilling their glasses and made sure to keep them full through the rest of the night.

**************************************************      

She knew she was drunk because she couldn’t stop giggling no matter how hard she tried. The girls have already fallen asleep, but sleep eluded her for some reason.

Hermione got out of her bed to get a glass of water, but while trying not to make a sound and wake up her roommates she accidentally stubbed her toe on something square-shaped laying on the ground.

‘Dammit!’ she cursed, holding her injured foot only to fall helplessly back on her bed.

She bent down to pick up the forsaken item to do something about it, but instead of putting it away to a safe place, where it wouldn’t threaten anyone, she started examining it. It was the small book of magical sex tips she got from the girls. She started leafing through its pages, her face getting redder with each second. When she stumbled upon a picture, a very detailed one, she slammed the book closed and threw it swiftly her nightstand drawer and shut it closed. This book won’t see the light of the day ever again.

As she was about to lay down again, her hand encountered something smooth and warm between the bedsheets. The vial with the ashes from the spell. But how could it still be warm? It has been hours. It should be cold by now. Strange.

Even when she was already asleep, Hermione kept a firm grip on the small container.

@miss-nerd95 ;) just in case :D

[lanochegata]

My nosejob experience

So i recently had surgery last wednesday. This is not something i been wanting to be truly open about to be honest, its a very sensitive subject but i feel like i need to for other girls and guys that are interested in plastic surgery and the rest that comes with it. So, i firstly got my first surgery may 3,2016. I disliked my nose for many years, but i lived with it and it didn’t bother me as much. As i got older(i just turned 20 in 2017) the more i cared about my appearance, and the more it bothered me. Sometimes it bothered me so much that i didn’t wanna leave my appartment and it would make me feel like i was about to cry. Simply because i felt like it covered my face. I felt like people truly didn’t see what a beautiful face i actually have because my nose ruined it all. I have big eyes that not many people noticed before my nosejob. the rest of my features are small, except for my nose. My nose wasn’t necessarily big, my nose bone was straight with a small hump but my nose tip was very round, abit long and had too much cartilage and no definition which i didn’t like. I wanted my face to be more serious and if I’m gonna be honest, perfect. So after i had surgery, nobody actually noticed and that proves that people don’t really look at your nose as much as you think inside your head. I know thats the truth, and i don’t care about other peoples noses, but i always feel like that doesn’t apply to me. I feel like i have and need to have these strict rules. I´m still trying to learn this myself, I haven’t learned it, but i try. Anyways, so why i did it twice is because my doctor had put the bandage crooked, so now my nose had become super crooked. Yet no-one really noticed. Now this obviously bothered me ALOT since i wanted my nose to be perfect. I still liked it, atleast the bone part had healed right and wasn’t crooked, it was only the soft tip part. My nose became a small button nose with a so called “ ski slope” bone. Its basically a cartoon nose, but my nose inspiration was Jaime king. So now i had the exact same nose as the model jaime king and i was overly happy. Well, that was at first but the more and more the nose healed the more it bothered me since it was crooked more after the months went by.  So finally, almost a year went by and its time for the second surgery. I had showered with this annoying soap called “descutan” a million times before i went to the clinic.I cleaned my room about 5 times the days before cause i wanted it to be clean when i won’t be able to do much. Clean bed sheets, and clean clothes. I had surgery time at 7 AM and got out of bed 5:30. Taxi arrived, and i was very calm but abit nervous. I was calm since i had done it before and knew this time they wasn’t gonna do the bone part again that caused me to be basically handicapped for a month with some bruises around my eyes and a lot of pain. I see a lot of people say “ ppl that can afford nose jobs are blessed” and “ lucky you!” but honestly its a living hell to go through and to be honest you’re better without it. I believe its a working progress to be happy with a flaw. But i guess i didn’t learn and it just felt like a pain that i had to go through it again. I can’t lie though, i liked being treated nicely after my surgery and i liked getting hurt. I know thats weird, but i recently got hurt by a guy i really liked and i have sort of a self harm behavior. I have issues, so if you love yourself and aren’t a really tough person that can handle pain good this is NOT FOR YOU. So, i had my second surgery April 19th, Open rhinoplasty with anesthesia. And yes, it wasn’t fun. It can be really scary for some people to go to the surgery room and i almost passed out so my anesthesia doctor had to put me down in a hospital bed to make me not pass out. I feel like that when i haven’t ate. This time i threw up when i came home cause the nurse forced me to eat since you’re not allowed to eat after midnight before your surgery. I waited a long time on my doctor cause he did surgery on someone else after me. He said everything went great and this time my nose is super straight. i shaked hes hand and said thank you. He then saw the drink i had got from a nurse and asked what I’m drinking. Anyways, i was “high” on strong aspirin pills for about 4 days. Nosebleed for 2 days,the 3d day i could finally pull out the nasty blood filled tampons inside my nose which hurts a lot and makes you get tears in your eyes but you can finally breathe through your nose and not your mouth thats super dry and been exfoliating itself from dead lipskin. Im on day 6 now, since time right now is 3 AM in europe. This time the surgery wasn’t nearly as bad as the first one cause of the no bone part. I can move, chew (which isn’t really allowed but if you do it lightly its good) walk, talk. I try not to laugh when something funny happens. But now the bandage is itching like crazy and the skin in ur whole face changes after surgery. it becomes extremely oily and abit swollen. I need to shower tomorrow and gonna call the clinic to ask if i can use the natural nosespray yet. Im getting the bandage/cast off on thursday morning, and stitches. This time my doc told me not to tape my nose after the cast is off cause he think thats what made my nose crooked. Im positive it was the bandage but whatever. Im still happy i did this surgery cause my nose is straight, and i can finally breathe right again and feel all the smells way better. Since I’m all about dolls and bimbofication which people may not know, i wanted a shorter nose to complete a doll face. Many people have told me there was nothing wrong with my nose before, but it wasn’t barbie-ish and it didn’t define what type of girl i really am. Im a girly girl and i felt like my nose ruined that. This is my personal issues and i should have learned to love my nose better but i wasn’t happy at all and i feel like if you don’t feel happy about something why not fix it? just know that its no dance on roses and it won’t fix all of your world problems.