#little makeupe needed

[hamandeggbun]

I hope this isn't weird but I've been reading this by @batmanisagatewaydrug and I had like the sudden, strongest urge to make art properly for the first time in ages, so uhhhh have some Jessie (or Jess? Can I call her Jess because I love her?) who is a terrible wet cat of a woman!

I wanted to get this done fast and human anatomy is not my forte so I traced a picture of Natalie in the City, who's a fashion blogger and has some cute fits, though no supervillain ones as far as I'm aware :3

[lesbianchemicalplant]

I get that “you can just not wear makeup, it's okay to not wear makeup” can sometimes be the exact thing that someone needs to hear, or to be reassured about. but some people are really condescending about when and how they pull that out and who they say it to

like, there is a social reality of misogyny that women are punished for not appearing a certain way, with all the more severity as a function of class, racism, transmisogyny, etc.

that punishment can be the difference between employed and unemployed. having food and not having food. being treated as less competent and less worthy as a person not only by men, but also by other women and people of any gender in general

and tbh, it's especially fucked how some transmisogyny-exempt people say this to trans women, particularly toward those of us with facial hair / stubble that stands out very visibly from our skin. like a trans woman wearing makeup is obviously just too dumb, shallow, misogynistic, and femininity-obsessed to know better, so they take it upon themselves to remind her that “you can be a woman without wearing makeup! :)” in the same voice they use to tell a toddler that the mushy peas are good

do you think trans women wearing makeup while going to job interviews or working customer service positions (or even, yes, trying to exist in public life in general) are all just stuck-up assimilationists with Bad Ideas about gender? do you think it's only trans women with pointedly transmisogynistic values about “passing” who would ever wear makeup or dress a certain way to try to be treated less horribly by the world around us?

especially if you're vividly aware of how you yourself are punished for not wearing makeup—how do you not extend that awareness to other women? including other women who would pretty fucking obviously be treated even worse for it than you are? (how seriously have you considered that some women might be treated worse for it than you are? treated worse by someone like you, even?)

“you can just not wear makeup” “you don't need makeup, there's nothing about your face that needs fixing” okay well hiring managers will absolutely discriminate against me for not wearing makeup to job interviews, but thanks for enlightening me I guess

[bogkeep]

every time i read an autobiographical comic about a transfeminine person practicing putting on makeup as a visual metaphor for the difficulty of Performing Womanhood i can feel my whole heart vibrate with sympathy. like. one of the absolutely most common Girl Experiences is feeling like you're never girling right or enough. there's so many rules and expectations and there's fucking makeup. i could never wrap my head around makeup!! not even for gender reasons, it's just this whole culture i don't understand. trying to grasp makeup feels like being a street urchin at an extremely exclusive high end restaurant crying because i don't know what fork to use and they won't let me eat with my hands. my seventh grade classmates tried to help me be girl by taking me shopping for nice clothes and mascara and i couldn't even wear it for a week. not only do you have to go through the intricate rituals of application but you have to remove it at the end of the day??? and everyone acts as if this arcane knowledge is something inherent to girlhood that you're just born knowing and feel naturally inclined to do??? i don't understand!!! i don't understand!!!!! people treated me as if i was being rebellious and making a statement but i just do not understand all the powders and inks and pencils and gunks and creams and brushes!! they feel bad against my face and i'll flinch from anything getting too close to my eyes. it doesn't matter how many offers for help i get or how many tutorials there are, i never wanted this for myself! i shouldn't have to do this! i can be a person without it just fine if you let me!

watching anyone trying to learn how to do makeup from scratch is like watching someone learning a new language. if you think it's hard it's because it is hard and don't let them tell you it's not, just because they've been speaking it for a long time

[brewstersbru]

Hey folks have some huskerdust !! 🕷️♥️

“I know, I know Legs. I just need to ask you something.” Angel’s eyes scrunch closed and the rest of his expression crumples as he whines out, short and low. Husk hovers his hands over the mottling of bruises and cuts that litter his torso, some still sluggishly bleeding. He itches to bandage them up, but stays himself with the sobering thought that Angel is used to guys touching him when he’s unconscious.

“Angel.” He tries again. Angel shakes his head minutely. “-on’t wanna.” He whines.

“Look at me please? I just want to check that it’s okay that I touch you. You know it’s important to me.”

Angel, with a long, juddering sigh, pulls himself from the cusp of sleep and blinks his eyes open. He frowns, glaring a little as he yawns into his hand. Husk waits patiently at his side, knees beginning to ache with being pressed against the hard wooden floor for so long.

“I told ya I don’t care what you do when I come back doped out like this, Whiskers. Not like I’ll remember it. Hah!” His laugh comes out rough, like it hurts to push from his lips. Husk shakes his head.

“And I told you it doesn’t matter if you’ll remember it or not. I’m not going to be another man who takes advantage of you.” He says, carefully enunciating each word so the message gets through.

Angel curses and flops over onto his side which draws his face infinitely closer to Husk’s own. He meets his eyes with a burning, lidded gaze. Husk keeps his posture relaxed, but his tail puffs at the sudden movement.

“Yer a softie, Husk. I don’t think ya could take advantage of me if you wanted to.” The words are coupled with a rickety, slapped on grin. Husk desperately wants to just shake him until he gets it through his big thick head that that’s not the point. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, it matters what he wants. Does he want Husk touching him after an abusive, grueling shoot? That’s what Husk’s asking, not if he ‘trusts’ him. He sighs.

“You didn’t answer my question. Can I touch you? Just give me an answer and then you can go back to sleep. God knows you’ll be needing it.” And it’s true. Who knows what Val has in store for him tomorrow? He’s better off getting all the rest he can get, while he can.

Angel appraises him with a long, considering look. There’s a lot going on behind his eyes and though Husk is aware of the fact of it, he can’t begin to try to fathom what exactly his thoughts are in this moment. He simply sits back on his heels and awaits his verdict. Every so often his eyes are drawn down to the mess of Angel’s torso. It’s not an intentional thing, but he can feel his hackles rising with the need to Fix It. Husk crushes the feeling down.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but in reality couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, Angel closes his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah Husk, you can.” He says, voice as small as Husk thinks he’s ever heard it. It’s strange to hear him so soft when usually he overtakes rooms with booming confidence; he even looks small, now, tucked into himself and using all of his arms to hug himself close as he hunches over.

He doesn’t- maybe he can’t- look at Husk when he speaks. Husk takes the words for the olive branch that they are and nods.

“Okay. Thank you, Angel. S’ all I needed.”

Angel just nods, curling further into himself for a moment before abruptly turning onto his back and feigning sleep. They both know he’s awake- he’s not snoring as loudly or as endearingly as he would if he truly was asleep- but Husk doesn’t call him on it, just reaches down to the first aid kit he’d dragged over in his initial protective rage and starts unpacking the necessary materials. Alcohol (not the fun kind), gauze, tape, and Angel’s preferred- though he’d never tell you it- heart-patterned bandages.

Another glance at Angel’s stiffly unmoving form reminds him that he hadn’t even had time to remove his makeup before passing out from exhaustion. Smears of glittery pink decorate his eye sockets, smudged from what Husk can only assume were punishing bouts of sweat and exercise. Husk pushes down the surge of indignation this thought elicits and smooths Angel’s hair back, thumbing for a moment near his hairline, before standing.

“Be back in a sec. Forgot something.” He keeps his voice low, tries for soothing but probably achieves something more like a dying wood chipper. Angel- who had up until that point been tightly coiled, as if expecting a blow- eases into the cushions at the sound. He hums, “Mmk. Thanks.”

Husk doesn’t respond lest Angel figure out from the cadence of his voice that Husk doesn’t need to be thanked. That he wants to do this. That he likes it.

It’s just- Angel always looks so at peace in these moments. The usual tension in his body melts away leaving nothing but the rawest and purest version of him. Husk loves that version of him, and he loves that Angel trusts him enough to show him it.

Husk returns after a minute or two with a pack of makeup wipes, Angel’s preferred brand, that he’d bought not too long ago precisely for moments like this. Angel was always complaining about glitter getting into his eyes when he forgot to take his makeup off and Husk saw an opportunity to Fix It. There’s not a lot in Angel’s life that Husk is able to help with, but this is something. And he jumped at the chance.

Angel is snoring lightly, right back at the cusp of oblivion that Husk had so heartlessly torn him from before. He sniffs and turns toward Husk when he settles back at his side, curling slightly into his warmth. Husk can’t help the smile that infects his features at the movement.

With careful, callused fingers, Husk begins to dab at the cuts on Angel’s torso. He’s not sure how to feel about the fact that Angel only flinches at the initial sting, not the rest of the painful swipes. It speaks to a depth of experience with this kind of thing that Husk vehemently dislikes the thought of Angel having to go through. Sure, in theory he knows Angel’s been subjected to this bullshit for decades, but to see it spelt out like this? So clearly and heartbreakingly? Husk has to take a moment between cleaning and bandaging the wounds to collect himself.

Angel whines when he takes his hands away.

“Easy. Easy, Legs.” He wants to call him ‘baby’ but isn’t convinced enough of Angel’s unconsciousness to chance it. Angel huffs.

The rest of the bandages go on easily enough, with minimal protests from Angel- which, somehow only seem to occur when Husk pulls away- and Husk smooths a healthy amount of bruise cream on each of Angel’s visible bruises. He’s almost certain there are more hidden beneath the- admittedly skimpy- clothing Angel is wearing, but is unwilling to undress him like this.

Pulling the surprisingly fluffy throw blanket from the back of the couch, Husk drapes it over Angel’s form, smoothing the sides down and tucking his arms beneath its warmth so he doesn’t wake up cold.

Husk is methodical in his cleanup of the first aid supplies, drawing each movement out so that he has more of a reason to stay in the room. To look at the rare smooth openness of Angel’s expression.

Once finished, he sets the kit to the side and picks up the makeup wipes, pulling one from the pack and pinching it between his pointer and thumb as he leans over Angel’s face. He moves one hand to cup his cheek, and the other to begin swiping lightly across Angel’s left eyelid.

Angel flinches a little at the unexpected contact, eyelids fluttering as his expression scrunches, disrupting the smooth peace Husk had so adored. It strikes something sore within Husk to watch.

“Hey. Hey, you’re okay, Baby. I’m not gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep.” The ‘baby’ slips out, Husk just can’t filter his words as carefully when Angel is so close, and so clearly hurting.

Angel’s expression smooths at the sound of his voice, at first fractionally, then all at once. It’s a gift to witness.

He leans his cheek further into Husk’s hand and Husk, unable to curb the small chuckle that bursts from his chest at the sight, smooths his thumb underneath Angel’s newly cleaned eye.

This is perfect. If life was fair and they were free this could be their normal, their everyday intimacies, indulged in unrestrained bliss. Husk allows himself to live in the thought for a moment before moving to clean Angel’s other eye.

He doesn’t flinch this time, simply sinks into Husk’s hand as it cradles his face and tips his right side towards him. Husk lets his fingertips linger against smooth, cool skin as he works. Swiping tenderly with each pass, as if Angel were something worth treating carefully.

Husk finishes his work without fanfare and, with an indulgent, lingering press of his lips to Angel’s warm forehead, he stands.

Only to nearly keel over when he meets Angel’s own, lidded- but OPEN- eyes.

“FUCK!”

Angel laughs, but it’s small and syrupy. Real.

“Thanks, Babycakes.” He offers, reaching his arms above his head in a stretch before settling back, deeper under the covers. “You sure know how to treat a guy. Careful what you offer, though, okay? Might end up with a junkie on your ass if it's too sweet.”

Husk understands what he’s really trying to say and shakes his head.

“Any time, Angel.”

[callsthefaithful]

b4 death B) - angel w a little hat below cut <3

tried to stick to their death dates a bit but. idk i only googled for like 5 mins. also i wanted those old news print colours ����

[medicalunprofessional]

the wentist :)

[breezy-cheezy]

Febuwhump day 1: Touch Starved

Boy can’t say something like “I don’t deserve to cry” and NOT expect a hug....

[sigsfigs]

sorry for no art was too busy MEETING BRENNAN ZAC AND ERIKA????????

[ahollowgrave]

Spent more hours than I'd like to admit playing with Renn Cosmetic's Build Your Own Makeup and I think I might make some edits in terms of colors! But for now she's looking pretty fricking cute! Thank you to @thefreelanceangel who showed off her own usage of this kit with Anna!

[elvenbeard]

You're my World

Doesn't matter where we are as long as we're together.

New Pride Flags Makeup (AXL Edition) by @pinkyjulien 💛

[sapphire-to-the-rain]

anetra doodle 🤭🤭

[cosmic-aria]

I can and will kill someone to get this new Flower Knows collection holy shit

[cosmicharm]

[ck12]

[murdleandmarot]

Guys OCs are so cool 🫶🫶

The characters, (in order), are @mysticalcats’s Foxglove, @emimii’s Clownaire, @toki-toro’s Chaumet, and last finally, @charliesinfern0’s Clementine!!!!!

(plus my own lil oc Bluebelle but this ain’t about her <333)

[zizzlefizzle1]

🥀 Words could never describe the CHOKEHOLD this man has had on me for YEARS-

Sir stop looking at me like that