#or what the difference between foundation and concealer is …

[charmac]

do you have any thoughts on transfem dennis

Not really well elaborate ones but I like the idea and would love to see some headcanons/ideas/fanfics on the subject.

I kinda follow the idea that it's something that's always been a part of Dennis, and used to be more prominent. Especially when he was a kid and grew up alongside Dee, played dress-up with her, learned makeup with her, envied her beauty pageants and the ability to just, be feminine. Though his mother hated Dee and with late 80s/90s culture, it was something that was shut out of his life and repressed. Now we watch as it’s slowly seeped back through a little bit of dress up and thongs and some makeup, to always wearing makeup, applying mascara right in the car and revealing he picks up men with his mommy kink.

I think Dennis is still unlabelled when it comes to gender and sexuality, because there’s so much there and that’s okay, I like that a lot. So it’s a cool concept to explore, that I desperately want to see more of.

[ratan0706]

Concealer vs Foundation: Understanding the Difference

When it comes to achieving flawless makeup, both foundation and concealer play crucial roles, but they serve different purposes. Understanding the difference between foundation and concealer helps in choosing the right products for a perfect base.

Foundation vs Concealer: The key difference lies in their coverage and application. Foundation is designed to create an even skin tone, providing a smooth base for makeup. It comes in various forms like liquid, powder, or cream and offers coverage ranging from sheer to full. On the other hand, concealer is a more concentrated formula meant to cover imperfections like dark circles, blemishes, and pigmentation. It is usually thicker and provides higher coverage than foundation.

The difference between concealer and foundation also extends to application. Foundation is applied all over the face, while concealer is used on specific areas that need extra coverage. Many people use foundation and concealer together for a flawless finish.

If you're wondering, "What is the difference between concealer and foundation?", think of foundation as the canvas and concealer as the spot corrector. Using both correctly can enhance your makeup, giving you a radiant and natural look.

[rambyol]

How queer! A Piltovian Pressed Powder Palette?

HeadCanon: Silco had Marcus smuggle this across the border because the Leader of Zaun cannot be seen purchasing Piltovian merchandise.

Also can we appreciate the COVERAGE of that pressed powder. Look at the contrast between the upper and lower part of his scarred side in the second image. You ever wonder if he had to trial and error his way through different foundations, concealers, and powders until he landed on what worked for him.

On the topic of Powders…

Remember how Vander suggested to Felicia that he liked the name ‘Violet’. Well since the flashback with Felicia sort of muddled the story and the character dynamics between Vander, Silco, Vi, and Jinx, I’m going to take the liberty of making the assumption that Silco absolutely could’ve suggested the term ‘Powder’. Bear with me here because I know it’s been joked about in the fandom and yet…

We know young Silco wore makeup:

E.g. Eyeliner + Eyeshadow

So I think it’s plausible. I see a scenario where Felicia points out how Silco isn’t wearing his eyeliner/eyeshadow in that scene

and he responds with something along the lines of;

‘Ah I’ve been meaning to get some new powder. Haven’t found one I’m fond of yet.’

And the rest is history.

[ghsface]

Hi k have a kinda specific request that I thought would make a good fic! I was thinking that maybe we see the BAU and y/n and Spencer the morning after Yk… the girls figure out that y/n just got layes and they do the whole bonding girl gossip thing. Derek sees Spencer wearing a scarf and makes a joke about it, only to realize that he was right. Penelope tells Derek and then without y/n or Spencer realizing like everyone knows. They also figure out why Reid is the only one with hikeys 🫢 and yeah…. Thanks queen! I hope this makes sense

New Message ✮⋆˙

Hey gorgeous, I love this idea so much, it was very fun to write I hope you like 🎀 🩷

our secret, not so secret - Spencer Reid

Sumary: You and Spencer try to hide your relationship, but it's hard when you have hickeys on your neck.

Warnings: fluff, jokes, hickeys, the bau being chaotic, I think that's all, this is pure fluff,

A/n: I'm sorry if there is something wrong or not understood, my first language is not English.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It was a chaotic morning for you. You woke up a little late and the mess was evident in Spencer's bathroom mirror, with those little reminders on your neck that not even the concealer could completely hide. You were aware that you were trying a desperate maneuver, but well, Spencer had already warned you that the makeup would not last the entire day. Still, you were determined not to leave any evidence, you applied the last layer of foundation before leaving his apartment, determined not to give any clues about what happened the night before.

For Spencer, the situation was not much different. She decided to cover the marks with a scarf, trying to act normal as they prepared to face another day of work at the BAU, as if everything was perfectly under control. The two of you looked at each other knowingly before leaving, in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret... again.

Arriving at the office, you said good morning as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t long before Emily and JJ, who seemed to have a radar for these matters, caught you in their line of sight. They looked you up and down with a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, JJ raised an eyebrow and fired the first bullet: “And that face, Y/N? Long night?”

You tried to shake your head with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at the two too much, but Emily stepped closer, lowering her tone so as not to draw too much attention. “Oh, come on, babe. There’s a sparkle in your eyes… and, from what I see, on your neck too.”

With your heart in your throat, you quickly glanced at your reflection in a nearby frame and noticed that the base had already begun to fade, leaving a faint purple mark showing. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, and then Penelope, who appeared out of nowhere as if she had smelled the drama, also joined the small circle. “Please let me guess… was anyone busy last night?”

Between laughs and accusations, you tried to defend yourself without much success. You knew they were trying to provoke you and that, at this rate, the secret wasn't going to last long. Emily and JJ's laughter soon attracted Derek, who approached with a mocking smile. “What's up, girls? Something I'm missing?”

Emily gave him a knowing look and pointed towards the entrance, where Spencer had just appeared with a very inconspicuous scarf. Derek narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Since when does Spencer wear scarves? It's spring, for God's sake.”

They all looked at each other, hiding their laughter, as Derek approached Spencer. With an attitude that only Derek could adopt, he patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty boy… do you need some advice on how to handle the weather?”

Spencer froze for a second, trying not to lose his cool. He knew he had been caught. He tried to respond with a vague excuse about “changing his style” and “protecting his throat,” but Derek simply held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Sure, sure, I imagine the weather was intense last night, right?”

Meanwhile, you were trying not to burst out laughing at Spencer's obvious blush and despair. But Derek, who had caught on to the whole situation, turned around to join Emily, JJ, and Penelope again, winking at the girls. “See what I'm saying? Our genius boy is growing up.”

Before Spencer could respond, Hotch walked past the group, observing the laughter and commotion with his usual seriousness. But something in his expression betrayed that he fully understood what the conversation was about.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked, without losing his composure.

Derek shook his head with a smile, but took the opportunity to continue provoking. “Nothing, Hotch. It just seems that some of your colleagues have… interesting extracurricular activities.”

Hotch cast a quick glance at you, who were trying to make yourself small at your desk, and then at Spencer, with her suspicious scarf. For the first time, a barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

“I guess ‘activities’ require a little more discretion next time, too, huh?” Hotch said, before continuing on his way.

As the team laughed and threw around comments, Rossi walked over with a cup of coffee, assessing the scene like the veteran he was. “Ah, youth… that energy and lack of subtlety. There’s nothing like first love at work.”

By then, the rumor had already spread throughout the office.

Hours later, as you tried to continue with your work, Penelope approached with a whisper. “Honey, we all know. You two don’t have to hide anything.” Your surprised expression was enough to make her laugh. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Come on, we’re profilers. Wait not me but thay do. Plus… you’ve never come to the office so… happy.”

You decided to give in and accept it, and just as you were about to approach Spencer to tell him, he appeared at your side, still wearing the scarf. When you turned to look at him, he already had that resigned expression on his face that made you laugh. “How much did you hear?” he asked with a sigh, looking around and catching everyone’s smiles.

“Everything?” you said with a mocking smile.

Finally, Derek, with an air of triumph, approached the two of you and announced loudly, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen! Our boy has become quite the man.” The office was filled with laughter and jokes as you and Spencer exchanged glances that were somewhere between nervous and amused.

Emily approached you and, not missing the opportunity, added, “So… how long did you think you were going to last without us finding out? A day, maybe two?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and looked at Spencer, who didn’t know whether to laugh or faint. In the end, there wasn’t much else to say.

JJ laughed, giving you a gentle shove. “Relax, Y/N. We knew before you guys realized it. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to admit it.”

You and Spencer exchanged a resigned look. Maybe their “secret” hadn’t been so secret after all.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

[laylasverse]

0.8K CELEBRATION ᰋ INFLUENCER REALITY IDEAS concepts, specifics, and tropes you could use for your very own influencer reality.

ও. a super big and sparkly thank you to @withluvvenus for helping me with this post!! my first collab... kinda nervous 😛

TRUE!INFLUENCER the true definition of an influencer. could be new york city, los angeles, miami, london or even paris, but you know every inch of that place. you wake up to new pr pages full of almost too many free products.

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. the classic meeting at an influencer party. you were supposed to be networking, trying to navigate the new and familiar faces only to be starstruck by seeing your celebrity crush walk through the door. and even worse? they know exactly who you are. ii. your reputation is perfect online, or maybe it's not. your s/o's image is the complete opposite of yours. both of your pr teams contact the other's to sort out a deal. there isn't much of a conversation between the two influencers who will be fake dating for who knows how long the teams chose, just soft launches that lead to hands being held in obvious photos and paparazzi images.

ANIMAL!INFLUENCER why only work at an animal rescue when you could share all the random facts you have stored up too? helping the adorable ( & non ) beings while spreading the message of environmental preservation is truly a win-win.

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. your animal rescue always needs volunteers! you need as many hands as you can get to take care of all the precious inhabitants. so when the rescue got a new group of them you didn't think much of it it. until you were asked to show the most beautiful person you've ever seen how to trick the resident wolfdog into taking his worm medicine...

BEAUTY!INFLUENCER you found the perfect mascara. the perfect cleanser. the perfect blush. anyone who is anyone knows your name. brands are begging for your stamp of approval on their products. be careful with your power... or don't, we still love you!

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. your page is everything beauty related? your s/o? they're a fan but a big makeup artist for famous people. famous, underlined, bolded. but they know of you. they are always using your tips and tricks, sometimes even duetting your tiktoks and commenting on the base of the certain foundation used paired with the concealer or something else. they're trying to get your attention. will you give it to them? ii. you're working with yet another brand. you thought the photoshoot would be a little boring with the constant posing and retaking the same picture a hundred times. but hey, at least the person behind the camera is cute. wait. did they just ask for your personal number instead of your managers? what could they want that for?

FASHION!INFLUENCER at first we all followed for your amazing use of floral pattern ( we still have no clue how you made it look so good ), but we stayed to see you strutting the runways. we definitely still try to gatekeep you, we were here first!

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. an up and coming fashion designer wants you to model for them! you scroll through their catalog and don't know if the designs are really your thing. you told your manager to decline the offer. a few months later the designer blows up on their own. a mixture of jealousy and resentment makes you check them out. since when were they so hot?

FOOD CRITIC!INFLUENCER does getting to taste the many different flavors and dishes from all around the globe sound good to you? what if you could get them for free too? just become your city's biggest food blogger!

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. you're the food critic. your s/o is the owner of a famous restaurant. you're assigned to their restaurant, there's some nerves because they're famous . . . and the fact that you may have developed a crush on them.

SPORTS CONNOISSEUR!INFLUENCER the one who follows their favorite sport religiously. the go-to person for all the details and history on the topic. when someone thinks a certain team their first thought isn't the mascot, it's you.

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. you're a sports influencer, they're a big name in a sport you fancy. first time you two meet is at one of their games, you're invited out where the players are usually to interview the players. your s/o is interviewed by you. but this isn't the first time you two have met, has it? ii. in the off season of your s/o's sport they go to a different sports game. somehow you're seated next to each other as complete strangers. but the kiss cam thinks otherwise.

TRAVEL!INFLUENCER take that trip to milan. show us every little corner you found. all the top museums and fancy restaurants. we want your outfits of the day. we want to live vicariously through you. maybe take us to japan next!

MEET CUTE IDEAS i. on the plane to your next big trip and you believe you've been blessed with an empty seat next to you. yet at the very last second you hear the excuse mes and shuffling of feet. you look up to see them. suddenly you don't mind sitting next to a stranger if that stranger is them.

[leqonsluv3r]

hii could you do some headcanons abt re4 leon dating a coquette reader? i loved your abt re2 leon but got me thinking how would re4 be <3

bf!leon kennedy

—re4!leon kennedy x soft!croquette reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: the brainrot is real, it’s like ur reading my mind anon <33 thank you :,)

bf!leon kennedy who will spend hours after getting back from a mission just laying in your pink frilly sheets, hundreds of stuffed animals around. he doesn’t even care. the sheets smell like you and it’s a welcomed reprieve after being back from spain

bf!leon kennedy who helps you reach things on the top shelf of your shared apartment because you can’t reach. no matter how much he loves seeing you try to wiggle and grasp for something despite your short height.

bf!leon kennedy who keeps one hand on your thigh and the other on the wheel when he drives. you insist on driving but he refuses, he loves driving you around. his attention split between you and the road.

bf!leon kennedy spending almost all of his hard earned government paycheck just so you can have anything your heart desires. pretty pink dresses, ribbons, clothes, perfumes and books. anything that makes you happy makes him happy.

bf!leon kennedy teasing you for your endless supply of stuffed animals and books. saying you act like a doll or a child. even though he secretly loves how deep your love for the stuffed things goes.

bf!leon kennedy who hates pink but it’s slowly learning to love it as you guys live together. the pink and white things seem to overrule his heart and his hatred. seeing how much you love it, makes his heart melt. even if he hates pink sheets, he’ll sleep in them, make love to you in them and cuddle you in them, if that’s what you want.

bf!leon kennedy letting you kiss and smooch all over his face with your expensive lipstick. he doesn’t mind, not if your way of claiming him is kisses in different kinds of lipsticks and shades. not when you get all giggly when you finish and he returns the favor in a different way.

bf!leon kennedy who nibbles on your neck and jaw, getting you all worked up and getting you back for the markings of lipstick all over his face and neck. he marks you in his own way, pretty hickeys that will fade onto your skin once he’s finished.

bf!leon kennedy watching you the next day as you dab concealer and foundation onto the hickeys, sending him a glare over your shoulder. he has no shame, he doesn’t even care. just marking what’s his the same way you did with your silly lipstick.

bf!leon kennedy letting you tie one of your ribbons around his bicep, doing it loosely on each one. pretty pink just as he suspected. he knows what your doing, the way your gaze eats up the ribbons loosely tied around the muscles of his arms.

bf!leon kennedy flexing his muscles on his biceps as the ribbons come untied and drop to the floor of your guys shared bedroom. you eat it up and keep making him do it until your practically drooling all over your pink frilly comforter that your kneeling on.

bf!leon kennedy who teases your stupid ribbons but has fun tying your wrists to the headboard with them, devouring your body with his lips and hands until your whining and begging for release.

bf!leon kennedy grabbing onto you from behind when your doing something in the kitchen or in your guys apartment. pressing kisses to your neck that make you blush and giggle. he will never get tired of your laugh or the little noises you make.

bf!leon kennedy who watches you devour a romance novel on the couch next to him, making noises when something happens in the book, your attention not on him for once. he’s jealous of fictional characters bound in the pages of a book, figures.

bf!leon kennedy who will gladly take you out, let you dress up and get pretty for him. he loves seeing you all made up in whatever you choose, your hair all pretty and styled. and lipstick that he has no doubt will get ruined later.

bf!leon kennedy letting you take your time eating and sipping on your drink. your hand rubbing on his knee absentmindedly having no idea what your doing to him with that innocent little touch under the dinner table of the restaurant. 

bf!leon kennedy who waits until your back at your guys apartment before devouring your lips, smudging your lipstick and running his hands into your hair. he’ll untangle the ribbon and run his hands through your styled hair, making it messy. just because he can.

bf!leon kennedy who fucks you like his life depends on it, he knows you can take it. always the good girl for him. he will press kisses to your lips, your legs over his shoulders as his hips slap against yours, making the prettiest sounds slip from your lips.

bf!leon kennedy who is big on aftercare, wiping the insides of your thighs and rubbing soothing circles on the length of your spine as you relax against him beneath the pink sheets of your guys bed. pressing kisses to your hairline and showering you with praise and affection.

bf!leon kennedy who tells you he loves you every single day. doesn’t ever not tell you, he doesn’t have it in him. one look with those eyes of yours and he’s a puddle of a man, confessing his love for you.

an: u guys know the drill <33 reblog, like and my asks are open. you can find all my other shit in the masterlist linked at the beginning and my asks are open!! i’ll be posting a one shot soon, promise. i love you guys <33 kisses xx.

[novashelby]

Excuse Me, I'm Sorry-Tom Hardy x Reader Drabble

Pairing: Tom Hardy x Reader Warning: Some offensive language. No smut, but some touching. Word Count: 750 Summary: She's a new make up artist not only navigating her nerves, but a very tight trailer. But Mr. Hardy doesn't seem to mind a beautiful girl stumbling over him. Disclaimer, this is all fiction and for fun.

Please reblog and comment. Likes are kind, but reblogs and comments make the earth go wee-woo, wee-woo.

She had always heard about the infamous Tom Hardy; a bit intimidating, but kind of charming. A newly certified makeup artist, she expected to work on small sets dealing with theater or low budget films, but a cousin-of-a-friend passed on a film job, and it landed in her lap. At the moment, she was ecstatic, living in a head full of dreams. But once she entered the trailer, large case in tow, the regret hit instantly. I’m going to fuck this up. Not what if, but I will absolutely, one hundred percent, definitely fuck this up.

He sat in a swivel chair, back facing her. Awkward and uncomfortable as he failed to greet her. Not even a look. 

“U-um,” she murmured as she hesitantly leaned against the table, she wedged herself between it and the arm of his chair, her ass definitely knocking something over. “Mr. Hardy?” He had thick-rimmed glasses covering his eyes, yet was still squinting at his phone. She let out a faint chuckle, she thought how he was just like every other man his age. Taking a curious peek, she noted that he loved dogs by the videos he swiped. 

“I’m here to do your makeup, Mr. Hardy.”

He groaned as he sat up, a crack popping from his back. Tucking his phone away, he put his glasses in his shirt. “Right,” he said, not unkindly, but certainly not extending himself. 

She smiled, nodding. “Right,” she echoed with a nervous smile. He leaned back, closing his eyes as she struggled to snug herself close enough without toppling him.

Without thinking, she placed her hand on his knee to brace herself as she slipped a bit. “Shit!” she cursed under her breath, quickly saying, “sorry, your trailer is a bit tight.” His eyes drifted to the hand on his leg. Had she even noticed it was still lingering there? Tight space, he let out a laugh, waving it off. When she was able to reach the other side, they met briefly for a smile as she set up her station on the empty table.

He watched as she used the back of her hand to dab different shades of foundation and concealer, mixing and matching to his tone. Every few blends, she’d hold it up to his face. Leaning over with the brush, his eyes slid down her form, watching how his thigh was between her legs. Normally, he would expect makeup artists to stand beside the chair, but nonetheless appreciated her efforts in the shite trailer.

Stumbling just slightly, she steadied herself with one hand on the backrest of his chair.

His eyes fluttered up as he swallowed, her body towering over him. It was something he’d expect from a stripper, not a makeup artist. A simple black tank top with thicker shoulder straps, her breasts weren’t exactly shielded. Just ever so slightly, the peaks of her equally black bra showed.

Amused, he asked as the brush tickled his face, “Comfortable?”

She smiled, using her pinky to turn his face just a little to the side. As she stretched up just a little, her knee grazed against his crotch, earning her a little jolt from his side.

“I thought they’d give Mr. Hardy a better trailer.”

Joking, he said, “maybe I asked for this one so I could have my makeup artist’s tits in my face.”

She paused, her eyes widening as she shot him a look. The apples of her cheeks turned a flushed red out of embarrassment. “Sorry?” she choked out, and he nodded to how she was positioned over him.

“Oh, Mr. Hardy—I…oh my god, I am so sorry!” She panicked, trying to tumble back when her hand had slipped down his chest, and before she could process, it landed on his crotch. Taking a minute to get herself together, it stayed there. It was only when his hand went over hers that she looked down.

“Oh my fucking god, I—I have known you for a total of ten minutes and I’ve fucked up. I am so sorry!” But when she tried to lift it, his hand kept it down.

Cheekily, he joked, “I mean, I don’t mind. You grab what you can, hm? Better than you falling.” With that, he winked, enjoying how she choked on her own breath.

[writeriguess]

hi!!! first of all forgive me my bad english, it's not my mother tongue 💔 well, could you make an angst with male!reader x Bakugou where their marriage has been having many problems for a long time but only the reader seems to realize this, and try to change it, until the point comes that he gives up, asks for a divorce and leave home, and only then does Bakugou realize and kind of panic and start trying everything to change the reader's mind? with a happy ending please!!? 🩷

Cracks in the Foundation

The dinner table was silent again.

The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful. The kind that felt suffocating.

You poked at your food, barely even hungry anymore, despite having made all of Katsuki’s favorites. You had hoped—desperately—that maybe tonight would be different. That maybe this time, he’d look up at you, really look at you, and see just how exhausted you were. How much effort you were putting into keeping this marriage afloat.

But instead, he was focused on his phone, answering work emails between bites, barely acknowledging your presence.

It had been like this for months. Maybe even years.

At first, you thought it was just his job. He was a pro-hero, after all. He had responsibilities. You had understood that. But there had been a time when he would still make time for you. When he’d call just to hear your voice, when he’d come home exhausted but still kiss you like you were the most important thing in his world.

Now? Now, it felt like you were just… there.

Something inside you twisted painfully.

“Katsuki,” you finally spoke, voice quiet but firm.

He hummed absentmindedly, still not looking up.

You gritted your teeth.

“Can we talk?”

“Tch. Ain’t we already?”

“No,” you said, a little sharper this time. “I mean really talk.”

That finally got his attention. He sighed, setting his phone down with a barely concealed look of irritation. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart pound against your ribs. You had gone over this in your head so many times, trying to find the right words, but now that you were here, nothing seemed enough to capture just how much this was breaking you.

“…Do you even love me anymore?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened slightly, the irritation quickly shifting into something more defensive. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

“It’s an honest one,” you said, meeting his gaze even though it hurt. “Because I don’t feel like you do.”

His brows furrowed, and his jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Because, Katsuki, I don’t even remember the last time you actually looked at me like I was your husband and not just some… roommate you barely tolerate.”

His expression darkened. “You’re overthinking shit again.”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it seem like I’m just making this up in my head. You barely talk to me anymore. You don’t touch me unless I’m the one reaching for you first. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time you told me you loved me without me saying it first!”

“I married you, didn’t I?” he snapped, voice rising. “Ain’t that enough? I’m working my ass off out there to make sure we have a damn future—”

“I never asked for any of that!” You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “I asked for you, Katsuki! I wanted us! But somewhere along the way, I lost that. I lost you. And now I feel like I’m the only one trying to fix something that’s already broken.”

He stared at you, mouth slightly open, but no words came out.

You exhaled shakily, running a hand through your hair. And then, finally, you let out the words that had been clawing at your throat for months.

“I want a divorce.”

The world seemed to go silent.

Katsuki’s eyes went wide, all the color draining from his face.

“…What?”

Your chest felt tight, your body trembling. But you forced yourself to stand firm. “I can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried. I’ve really tried. But I can’t keep giving everything to someone who doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Panic flickered across his features for the first time. He shot up from his chair so fast it nearly toppled over. “No. No, you don’t mean that—”

“I do.”

His hands curled into fists. “You’re not fuckin’ leaving me.”

Your lips trembled, but you shook your head. “I already did. A long time ago.”

You turned, walking towards the door. Your packed bag was already waiting by the entrance. You had made your decision long before this conversation even started.

Katsuki moved fast. He was in front of you before you could take another step, grabbing your wrist in desperation.

“Wait,” his voice cracked. “Just—fuck—wait, okay?”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you saw it.

Fear.

Pure, raw fear.

“…Don’t go,” he whispered. His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, like if he let go, you’d disappear. “I—I didn’t realize—fuck, I didn’t see it. I thought we were fine.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s the problem, Katsuki. We weren’t.”

He exhaled shakily, shaking his head. “I can fix this.” His voice was pleading now. “I will fix this. Just—please. Don’t go.”

You hesitated. God, how you wanted to believe him.

But how could you?

“Why now?” you asked, voice thick. “Why is it only now that you care?”

“Because I was a fucking idiot,” he admitted, eyes shining with something dangerously close to tears. “Because I got so fucking used to you always bein’ there that I didn’t think I could ever lose you.” His breath hitched. “But I can. And I don’t want that. I can’t—I won’t lose you.”

You bit your lip hard, torn between every emotion warring inside you.

Then, he did something unexpected.

He fell to his knees in front of you.

Bakugou Katsuki, the strongest, most prideful man you had ever known, was on his knees, gripping your hands like a lifeline.

“Please,” he rasped. “Give me another chance.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

You wanted to. God, you wanted to.

But…

“I need time,” you whispered.

His shoulders shook, but he nodded. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay. Take as much time as you need. Just—just don’t shut me out completely. Let me prove to you that I can be better. That I will be better.”

You hesitated for a long moment… before finally nodding.

And for the first time in years, Katsuki held onto you like he’d never let go again.

***

It took time. It took effort. It took Katsuki breaking down the walls he had unknowingly built, piece by piece, proving to you every single day that he wasn’t going to take you for granted anymore.

At first, you weren’t sure if you could believe him.

You had already packed your bags. You had already walked out that door. And yet, after everything, he was still there—calling, texting, showing up at your temporary apartment, asking if you’d eaten, if you were sleeping well, if you needed anything.

The first few weeks, you kept your distance. You had to. The wound was still fresh, the pain of being unseen for so long still too raw.

But Katsuki never stopped trying.

He started small.

A simple good morning text every day.

Then, food deliveries to your doorstep with a note scrawled in his messy handwriting: Eat, dumbass.

Then, showing up at your work just to see you for five minutes—never pushing, never begging, just… being there.

One night, about a month after you left, there was a knock on your door.

When you opened it, there he stood, drenched from the rain, holding a plastic bag. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his usual sharp red eyes uncertain.

“…You’re gonna get sick,” you muttered, stepping aside.

He walked in hesitantly, glancing around the apartment. It was much smaller than the home you had shared, barely big enough for one person. It made his throat tighten.

“I, uh… brought you dinner.” He held up the bag, awkward as hell.

You sighed, taking it from him. Katsuki never did things like this before. Not without you asking first.

But this wasn’t the same Katsuki who had ignored your pleas for attention.

This was a man who was fighting with everything he had.

“…You didn’t have to,” you said, softer this time.

“Yeah, I did.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look… I know you ain’t ready to come back. And I ain’t expectin’ ya to. But—” His jaw clenched before he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to say the words he had never been good at. “I miss you. Every day, I wake up and reach for you, and you’re not fuckin’ there. And it’s my fault. I get that. But I need you to know I ain’t gonna stop tryin’.”

Your grip tightened around the plastic bag, chest aching. “Katsuki…”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “I see you now. And I hate myself for not seein’ it sooner.” His voice lowered, thick with emotion. “Please… just tell me what I gotta do to fix this.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you turned, setting the food on the small dining table. Then, you whispered:

“…Sit down. Eat with me.”

His breath hitched slightly, and when you glanced back at him, there was something dangerously close to relief in his eyes.

“…Yeah,” he murmured. “Okay.”

And that was how it started.

Slowly, carefully, you let him back in.

Katsuki took every opportunity to show you that he wasn’t the same man you had walked away from.

He called you every night, just to ask about your day. He planned date nights—real date nights, where he focused on you, not work, not anything else. He even went to therapy—not that he’d admit it outright, but you noticed the difference. He was learning how to communicate, how to listen.

And it wasn’t just words anymore.

It was actions.

One evening, nearly six months after you left, he showed up at your apartment again. This time, though, he wasn’t alone.

He held a small black box in his hands, fingers gripping it so tightly his knuckles were white.

You stared at it, heart pounding. “Katsuki…”

He swallowed hard. “It ain’t what you think.”

Slowly, carefully, he opened the box.

Inside was a new wedding ring. Different from the one you had left behind.

“This ain’t me askin’ you to marry me again,” he said, voice rough but sure. “Not yet. I know I still got shit to prove. But I want you to have this.” He exhaled shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because when you’re ready… when you want to come home… I want it to be different this time. I wanna do it right.”

Your vision blurred with tears.

This was the Katsuki you had fallen in love with. The one who fought tooth and nail for what mattered to him.

And for the first time in years, you felt like you mattered to him again.

“…Okay,” you whispered, reaching out. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the box.

His breath caught.

“Okay?” he echoed, barely daring to hope.

You nodded, wiping at your eyes. “Not yet. But… soon.”

And when he reached for your hand, squeezing it tight, you knew—without a doubt—that this time, things would be different.

That you were worth fighting for.

And he wasn’t going to let you go.

Ever again.

[hearts4golbach]

Hi! can you write a Johnnie x fem reader fluff to smut? 🙏🏼

Blushed.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Authors note: I have seen this idea used a few times on tumblr from a few different people, so this is unoriginal, but I've really wanted to write this.

warning: smut.

"What's up guys, welcome back to my channel!" I hollered, imitating certain YouTubers. I had always found intros to be hilarious. "Today, I'm with my boyfriend, Johnnie Guilbert." I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "I'm going to be making him normal."

Johnnie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yippee. I'm being tortured." he made jazz hands.

I covered his mouth quickly, attempting to act suspiciously. "This was his idea.. anyway!" I pushed him so he was sitting on my bed. I pulled the first product out of my makeup bag. "This is primer, which you know about, obviously. so there's nothing new there."

I stood in between his legs and began to apply the primer, smearing it all over his face. he gripped my waist softly, looking up at me with a sweet smile. I glanced away, trying not to get too worked up over a simple gesture. I smiled to myself and finished rubbing it all in.

"Great!" I said sarcastically, moving so the camera could see. "shit, I have to pin up your bangs." I grabbed two clips from my dresser. I parted his hair in the middle, clipping his midnight black hair on either side of his face.

he slapped his hand over his forehead, "Not the six head." he snorted before removing his hand.

"You do not have a six head," I rolled my eyes, placing a kiss on his forehead before moving on. I pulled the next product out of the bag. "Funny story, I had to go out and buy Johnnie a whole different foundation because he's too pale for mine."

Johnnie made a finger gun, pointing it at the camera and sticking his tongue out with a laugh. "it's because all I do is play fortnite." he smirked.

"I know." I retorted as I wet my beauty blender. I placed dots of foundation around his face, fighting the urge to kiss him as I did so. "Okay, cute! perfect shade match." I moved put of the cameras view.

Johnnie checked himself out in the mirror, raising and dropping his eyebrows. "Uncanny Valley."

"Okay, well, I've barely done anything yet, so.." I trailed off, digging through the bag. "Next, concealer. Which, you also know of because I'm sure you go through a lot of it." I teased, tapping his nose before standing in front of him again.

his hands made their way to my waist as I focused on putting the liquid in the right place to highlight his face. he slowly moved his hands down, so they were on my ass.

"johnnie!" I scolded, "im going to have to edit that out."

he smirked, laughing at my comment. "I'd leave it in."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would." I retorted, going back to blending the concealer.

he had moved his hands back up, and now they were on my hips. his thumbs rubbed circles into my skin, making me shiver under his touch. I cleared my throat awkwardly as he laughed under his breath at my reaction.

I pulled away, revealing his face to the camera. I tapped his cheeks before moving on. "Next, we have blush, contour, and bronzer." I picked up the 3 products, showing the camera.

I began working on his face once more as he hummed, I wasn't sure what song. I stuck my finger under his chin, "Look up at me." he did as told, gazing into my eyes. "Thank you, baby." I smiled before getting to work on his contour. his cheekbones contoured nicely, making me grow more eager for him by the second.

I turned around, clearly distracted. "uh, next step." I stuttered, reaching into the bag. "highlighter."

my brush grazed over his cheeks and nose before gently tapping the inner corner of his eyes. "ah! my eye clit!" johnnie blinked rapidly.

"oh my god." I rolled my eyes, "okay, the last couple steps are mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow."

using a light pink eyeshadow, I colored in Johnnie's eyelids. I did a small wing before curling his lashed and putting mascara on them.

"what if I put lashes on you?" I pondered, putting up the mascara.

"oh, god." he replied dreadfully. "can I see myself now?"

I sighed before grinning at him. "I guess." I handed him a mirror and impatiently waited for his reaction.

"damn, would I fuck myself?" he pondered, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I mean, its how I do my makeup every day so..." I joked. "wait! I forgot your lipstick, how could I be so stupid?" I pulled out a musty pink lipstick and quickly applied it. "okay, now youre done."

I recorded my outro, desperate to shut the damn camera off. after turning it off, I grabbed the makeup wipes.

"you ready to take it off?" I asked him.

he eagerly nodded. "yes, please."

I climbed into his lap, "you did so good, thank you for recording that with me."

he hummed at the praise, I felt his member grow slightly under me. "anytime." his hands moved down to my ass once more, gently squeezing.

I bucked into him, trying not to make any noises as I wiped off the rest of the makeup. "shit, johnnie."

he smirked and kissed me softly, his hands moving down my thighs. I leaned into the kiss. Johnnie's hand made its way up my shirt, gently massaging my boob while the other kneaded my inner thigh. "you're such a tease." he whispered onto my lips.

I hummed in response. he quietly groaned into the kiss, his body pressed against mine. my hands flew up to his head, getting tangled in his hair. I began to deepen the kiss, wanting more. I moaned quietly, making his hips roll up against me. "God, you're so hot." I say breathlessly before smashing my lips onto his.

his tongue danced with mine as his hands explored my body. "you're killing me, I need you. now." he said desperately.

I nodded eagerly, "please, johnnie." I pleaded, moaning as he began kissing down my neck.

he trailed kisses along my collar bone, nipping and sucking at the tender skin. he left light hickeys all over, groaning into my skin. "I'm so crazy for you."

"johnnie, i-" I was cut off by a moan as he went back to attacking my neck.

I felt him smirk against my skin. "I love it when you say my name like that." I felt his erection pressed against my clothed pussy. "lay down for me, babe."

I did as told, crawling off his lap and laying back on the bed. he slipped off my shirt, leaving me in my bra as he kissed down my stomach. I wiggled under his touch, wanting more. he undid my jeans and pulled them off, tossing them somewhere in the room. he kicked off his own pants and shirt aswell, leaving both of us in our underwear. I bit my lip, moaning softly at the sight of his erection.

"you're so beautiful," he whispered, tucking my hair out of my face before kissing me again. "you ready?"

I nodded eagerly. "please, johnnie. I need you so bad." I whimpered as he positioned himself between my legs.

"tell me what you need, baby." he whispered, lust burning in his eyes. I tried to pull him closer, but he pulled away. "use your words."

"fuck, I want your cock, johnnie." I whimpered.

"atta girl." he smirked, pulling my panties off and tossing them along with my jeans. "Jesus, you're so beautiful."

I moaned quietly as he nibbled at my neck. I clawed at his back, pulling him closer. "stop teasing." I pleaded.

he nodded, listening to my request. I felt his hard tip press against my entrance. he slowly pushed inside of me, groaning at the feeling of filling me up. "so fucking tight." he muttered.

"oh my god, yes." I moan quietly.

johnnie groaned, pushing the rest of the way inside of me. I gasped as he began to thrust slowly, making my walls grip tightly around him. "God, I love the pretty sounds you make."

his words made my jaw fall, letting a low moan escape. he picked up his speed, his hips slapping against my wetness as he thrusted deeper. "jesus- oh, shit." I stuttered.

johnnie groaned, rolling his eyes back as he lost himself in pleasure. "oh, fuck- thats it. give it to me."

"keep going, oh shit!" I moaned into his neck. he moved sweaty hair out of my face before kissing me roughly.

his thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slammed against mine as he took me roughly. "fuck, you're amazing." he whimpered onto my lips.

"fuck, give it to me, baby." I moaned, digging my hands into his back. he growled softly as he pushed deeper inside of me, pausing for a moment before pulling out and slamming back into me.

his thrusts became ever more forceful, his cock hitting my cervix with each powerful thrust. "does this feel good, baby? fuck, you're so good." he kissed my neck.

"yes, o-oh my god, yes. don't stop. i-im close!" I panted.

his thrusts became more erratic, his hips slapping into me one last time before he released inside of me. I came along with him, my orgasm rushing through my whole body. I went limp, watching as he collapsed next to me.

"Oh my god." he whispered, kissing me softly. "I love you so much."

"I love you more."

[crybabycinna]

I had a two second thought of like modern Lin getting a FaceTime call from her younger girlfriend that wants to show off doing her makeup and then I also thought about Jason Todd getting a FaceTime call from his girl doing the same thing so I give you both I also thought about doing this as a TikTok like pov you call Jason or Lin and make them watch you do your makeup 🤣

Lin: *answers the facetime* yes baby

Y/N: I’m doing my makeup and you need to watch me

Lin: baby I’m working

Y/N: idc it’s important to my girlhood that you watch me

Lin: *sighs* ok baby

Y/N: now first we start with primer it’s very important

Lin: why?

Y/N: it makes the makeup stick *putting on her primer*

Lin: oh ok

Y/N: mhm now skin tint

Lin: what’s the difference between skin tint and foundation?

Y/N: idk

Jason Todd version

Jason: *answer’s the call* yes baby girl

Y/N: hi JJ! I’m doing my makeup so you have to watch

Jason: gets me out of doing work. Show me your skills doll

Y/N: yay! First we start with primer

Jason: I thought you use concealer first?

Y/N: 1. I don’t know how to conceal and 2. Who do you fuck in the city when I’m not there?

Jason: don’t throw drake lyrics at me and what the fuck you mean?

Y/N: why do you know what concealer is?

Jason: baby please can we get on to the tutorial my little star?

Y/N: mhm anyways *puts on her primer* next we do a skin tint

Jason: not foundation?

Y/N: again who do you fuck in the city when I’m not there?

Jason: *sighs* doll please

[cychante]

how many facsimiles deep are we now?

a @mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @bidoofenergy!! i loved getting to visually explore the Quencies (slang for consequences) of pearl's win :D details below

my idea for this mainly came from WL sesh five, where pearl gets muzzled by the wildcard.... I alongside everyone else was driven kind of insane by this visual and how it intersects with her story and the people around her.

there are five pearls in this image! 3 wl pearls, 1 sl pearl, and 1 dl pearl. dl pearl (bottom left) is largely in a state of post-season fugue, as the narrative erupts out of her own control, quite literally 'getting ahead of her', all teeth and glowing eyes. she is accompanied by the anchor (tilly) who sports a very different visage: representing comfort and stability, instead of mindless symbolic bloodshed.

sl pearl (top right) deliberates with her nature and her internalisation of it's meaning: she holds the knife behind her own back in a traditional symbol of deception or betrayal, but has her clenched fist around the blade, not the hilt. instead of holding it behind her back, she holds it to her back. she's very, very close to reaching a state of self-actualisation: between the pearl she was in last life and the pearl she is now, no doubt, but external forces and her own reckonings knock her efforts unsteady.

external wild life pearl (foreground, bottom right) displays an unsteady stand with The Family, Joel and Gem. Though they stand as a trio, pearl faces away to her background specter and gem holds a shield in between their formation, choosing to expose her front instead of her back.

specter wild life pearl (background, bottom right) is a concentrated expression of despair, anger, and misery. everything worth getting frustrated about is felt here. the games, the people, the world, the relationships that continue to form and break and the unsteady foundation they're built on: all of it, here, is the hidden core that each player harbors and conceals. it is a potent thing that is Wrong, not because feeling these things is necessarily bad, but because no person should ever be inside a machine like this in the first place.

holistic wild life pearl (top left) is a snapshot looking down upon her fundamental pieces during that scene with gem in WL5. with her self-expression and agency from within the social scene robbed by the games, she is enclosed by the perceptions of others. gem sees her not as she is, but what she can be. with gem's limited experience with what pearl is and has been, she forms an incomplete picture; one where the easiest pearl to get along with in civilized society is a muzzled dog.

ALSO THERE ARE MORE DETAILS BUT YAAAY HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[whitebluewhitefem]

So I haven't really used makeup a lot in my life, I know next to nothing about it and became a radfem pretty early so I didn't feel pressured to start doing it. Now I want to learn how to do goth/alt makeup to apply it on a rare occasion, like for a rock concert or something.

I google easy tutorials and fucking hell, you're expected to buy a million different products just to paint your eyes a bit. This is beyond me. Primers for everything, foundation, concealers, powder, etc etc etc. why would I need to cover my whole face up if I only wanted some eyeshadow? What's wrong with my eyebrows, why do I need to paint them? Why are all these women so insecure and spending hundreds of dollars to make their face "perfect" just for a fun look? Why are they calling it art when most of it is them battling what they think are imperfections?

I think we all know the answer to this.

The worst part is now I feel insecure too, and pressured into spending more money than I wanted to spend. I think that's how women trap each other in the makeup world. I am not trying to blame them, we're all victims of patriarchy in the end, but personally I feel more pressured into using makeup from other women than I've ever felt from a man. Regular men generally wouldn't even tell the difference between a bare and a painted face. It's always these beauty influencers that make me feel wrong and cringy and like what I would like to do for, in fact, *self expression* is not enough without a hundred layers of self hate. Men rule beauty corporations, but when you take the adverts out of the equation, it's usually women who make other women buy more.

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Bleeding Hearts: Part 1

Vince Schneider x Reader

A Romeo & Juliet + Scream AU

Warnings: SMUT and a LOT of it. Angst, a lot of Swearing, Alcohol and Violence, Mild SA, a very dark fic from the darkest corners of my mind.

- Character Visual Board -

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18+ Only

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One thing Vince knew was that he was not a good guy, but it didn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him what people said about him, or the way they scattered like roaches when he walked into a bar or down a busy street.




At 30 years of age, he had cultivated and perfected a mean facade that he valued more than anything. Being feared was worth more than money to him, it was power.




Vince hung out with the lowest of the low, a real bunch of lowlives and thugs he didn’t even have the emotional capacity to call friends. To him, these people were merely a means to roughen up his image enough so that everyone who knew his name feared him.




He joined a gang of bikers called The Devils Run on the south side of Woodsboro shortly after his near death incident 8 years prior, the experience that should have humbled him, but instead it made him fearless. He felt invincible.




He quickly climbed the ranks thanks to his no bullshit attitude, he had no issue putting people in their place, and now he practically ran the gang alongside the founder, Marcus. Needless to say, this pissed some people off, especially Marcus’ son Noah, who was less than trustworthy and not seen fit enough to run his fathers gang.




As his life got more involved with The Devils Run, Vince had less and less time for women. He had never had a good experience anyway, all relationships, if you could even call them that, had been volatile anyway, and he thought it was better this way.




That was until he spotted you one cold Saturday afternoon, laughing at the bar with your friend Rachel. He hadn’t seen you since high school, back when you were that dorky kid who couldn’t tell the difference between foundation and concealer and you routinely wore purple skinny jeans and a bright green hoodie. You looked so different now that he barely recognised you at first.




You had gone away for school, and you must have learned how to do your hair and makeup during this time, and that there was more than just brightly coloured jeans in the world of fashion.




You sat elegantly crossed legged at the bar, a cute little black sundress flowed effortlessly across your figure, your hair falling softly down your back. You laughed at something that slutty Rachel said. God he had always hated Rachel, but you had remained friends it seemed, and you looked radiant as you beamed at her, your eyes creasing.




Vince walked passed you as he made his way to the pool table at the back and your eyes met briefly. Vince registered a flicker of recognition in your eyes and your smile faltered slightly.




“Welcome back, Prescott.” Vince murmured as he leaned close to you on his way past, catching a whiff of your fruity perfume.




“Go away, creep.” Rachel spat, her face turned up in a scowl.




“Fuck off, whore.” Vince bit back.




“Say that again, I swear-“ Rachel started.




“I said, fuck off, whore.” Vince repeated, a smirk across his face.




You rolled your eyes and turned your back to Vince, your elbows resting on the bar. “Cool it, you two.” You mumbled cooly as you sipped your drink, highly unimpressed by the childish behaviour.




Vince smirked, satisfied he had caused her to bite. He relished causing mayhem, it filled him with excitement.




Vince was a couple of years your senior, and you remembered him and his chaos well. Rachel had the biggest crush on him throughout high school and even after he left, she practically threw herself at him, and when he turned her down - hard - she turned to hating him quickly.




You didn’t particularly like him either, it was hard to when his mother despised yours, blaming her for her brothers death, but hate wasn’t an emotion you held for many people.




Your mother always thought Vince was a bad seed. The way he was raised, barely raised that is, and the way he’d followed in his parents footsteps, idolising his uncle Stu, it all just spelt bad news. His father was somehow worse than his mother, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.


You on the other hand, hadn’t known your father, so your mom was your everything, and everything she said, went. You didn’t question her, after everything she had been through, you really couldn’t find a reason to. She was smart, resourceful, brave, but incredibly weary, and that was something she had passed onto you.


You had avoided Vince as much as possible, but luckily that wasn’t all that hard considering you were complete opposites and hung out with different crowds.


You were awkward, bright and friendly, he was cocky, dark and god damn terrifying. You moved in different circles, and you avoided eye contact whenever your paths did cross.


That was until that night in the bar, and Vince couldn’t stop himself from watching you.


You looked so different, but it was still you, the only daughter of Sidney Prescott. He couldn’t help but admire how you’d grown into your own skin, no longer that average, awkward teen, but now a glowing, beautiful woman.


You occasionally caught his eyes on you, heat crawling up your neck, but you pretended not to notice, catching up with your old best friend Rachel, enjoying her company after so many years apart.


The night drew on and the bar got busier, louder, and drunken townsfolk began to filter in and out.


Billy, someone Rachel worked with and had been seeing on and off, walked over and slung an arm around your friends shoulder.


“Hey Y/N. Mind if I steal Rach away for a little while?” He slurred, although still polite enough.


You laughed, “Be my guest, I need to get back home anyway, early day tomorrow.”


You hugged Rachel goodbye and grabbed your purse before squeezing out of the busy bar.




You hadn’t realised that you’d brushed the wrong persons shoulder and caught a dangerous eye on your way out, and that someone had followed you out.


The street was quiet enough for a Saturday evening, most people inside as the cool late November air began to bite at exposed skin and you shivered, kicking yourself mentally for forgetting your jacket at home.


You rubbed your arms as you walked quickly down the empty sidewalk, the twilight evening darkening almost with every step.


You thought you were imagining it, at first, but when you strained your ears, you could hear the second set of footsteps that almost matched yours, and you stopped in your tracks.


As you turned, you noticed a golden haired man, sandy moustache matching his small beard, a thick black leather jacket making him appear even larger than he was.


He shot you a cocky grin as he closed the distance between you.


“Can I help you?” You asked, a little uncomfortable at his proximity.


“I saw you walkin’ on your own, don’t you know how dangerous these streets can be at night, darlin’?” He drawled, a toothpick rolling between his teeth.


“I’m fine.” You forced a less than friendly smile as you turned back around and continued walking.


“Woah! No need for the attitude, princess. At least let me walk you home.” He wasn’t asking, and he grabbed your wrist and spun you round to face him. “The name’s Noah, I thought we could get to know one another a little.”


You tried to pull out of his grip, but his hand was like a vice, and before you could think to cry for help, he was pushing you back into an alleyway, his other hand clasped against your mouth.


You tried to cry out, but it wasn’t much use, and your other hand found itself trapped above your head with the other, both fitting comfortably in his large hand as his knee pinned you against the cold brick wall.


In his other hand, he flicked open a pocket knife, scraping the blunt metal against your exposed neck as you whimpered.


“Scream and I’ll have no choice but to shut you up, got it princess?” He hummed in your ear and you let out a cry.


The knife pressed harder against your throat as a warning, the tip piercing your skin and a trickle of blood ran down your neck as you began to shake.


“I said, got it?” He repeated, and nodded as best as you could against the blade.


“Good girl.” He hummed as his tongue darted out to lick the blood that trickled down your neck, his hips pressing uncomfortably into yours.


Tears spilled from your eyes as you screwed them shut, waiting for the worst to happen.


“Noah, you better step the fuck back before I gut you and send your innards to your father.” A familiar voice sounded from the end of the alley, and you felt the pressure against your hands and hips soften.


Your eyes flew open and Noah’s eyes were no longer on you, but staring sheepishly back at Vince Schneider.


Vince stood cooly at the end of the alley, his arms by his side and a knife in his own hand, and you suddenly panicked you were only about to be subject to the same fate by Vince’s hand.


“C‘mon Vince, I was just havin’ a little fun.” Noah argued, but he still wasn’t letting you go.


“I say what you can do for fun, this isn’t it. Let her go.”


Noah looked down at you once more and gave you a scowl before he let your hands fall and took and step back. You instinctively shuffled further back into the alleyway, desperate to get further away from him, and you watched as Noah skulked back towards Vince.


“Fine. Happy now?” Noah spat, and before you could comprehend what was happening, Vince’s fist collided with Noah’s jaw, and a second fell swoop landed in his stomach.


With a grunt, Noah doubled over and fell to his knees.


“If I ever fucking catch you doing that shit again, you’re done. Hear me?” Vince spat.




Noah nodded and struggled to his feet and stumbling out of the alley.




Vince watched furiously as Noah disappeared and then turned towards you.


You cowered, terrified, and Vince raised his hands defensively.


“Hey… it’s okay. Can I take you home?”


You stared up at Vince with watery eyes, unsure if this was some fucked up joke. He had never been awful to you, but he’d never gone out of his way to put the family feud behind you before.


“Look,” he continued, “there are plenty of creeps in this fucking town, I should know, at least let me walk you.”


You contemplated your odds, and somehow Vince was the safer option, so you nodded shakily.


“You cold?” He asked, removing his own leather jacket.


“Oh, no I’m okay.” You tried to refuse, but the jacket was already around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but relish in the warmth that had absorbed into it already. “Thanks.”


“I’m sorry about him.” Vince said, still standing over you. “He’s a fuck up on all accounts.”


“He’s not your responsibility.” You shrugged, wrapping the leather tighter around you for comfort.


“He kinda is, his dad’s my boss.” Vince said as you began walking.


“Brave hitting him like that if his dad is your boss.” You noted.


Vince chuckled, his hands sliding into his front pockets. You noticed how he’d filled out nicely as he’d gotten older, his biceps stretched the sleeves of his button up shirt, and the swell of his pecks showed under the few he’d left unbuttoned.


“Even his dad knows what a useless cunt he is.”


You walked in silence for a while, the streets now dark and lit only by the odd store, restaurant or bar that was still open. You realised that soon you’d be in a residential area and if he wanted to, he could easily drag you into a bush and no one would be the wiser.


You breathed deeply, “Vince?”


“Mmm?”


“Thank you, for doing what you did back there… but why did you?”


Vince shrugged, “I might not be a saint but I know what is saw wasn’t right, not by anyone’s hand.”


You nodded, and you continued to walk in silence.




After a while, your house came into view down the long leafy residential street and you let out a sigh of relief.


“Bit weird to say it but I owe you one.” You breathed awkwardly.


Vince grinned but you didn’t see it, “I’ll bank it for now.”


As you reached the softly lit front lawn of your childhood home, the same one your mom grew up in, you stopped at the front gate and turned to face him.


“Well… this is me. Thank you again.” You said softly as you pulled the jacket off your shoulders and handed it back to Vince.


“Don’t mention it.” He stood over you and your eyes locked for a moment, before you pulled away awkwardly. Vince noticed the tiny smear of blood that had now dried on your neck and he instinctively brushed his thumb against it to remove it.




You flinched, but quickly realised you weren’t in danger and you relaxed against his touch.




“Sorry.” He murmured, pulling back.




You looked up at him and smile, reaching up on your toes and pressing a quick kiss on his cheek.


“See you around, I guess.” You said as you pulled back and Vince watched you in surprise.


You walked through the gate and down the long winding path to the front door. Vince waited until you were safely inside.




Now he had a bone to pick, and he was going to need a few drinks beforehand.




——————————

- Part 2 Here -

Taglist:

@velmalav

[fidgetspringer-art]

Equestrian AU part 5 Martin has a silent crisis.

Noah looks around Martin’s living room with poorly concealed curiosity. He’s been told his old home has a certain charm to it, most of the stuff in here has been passed down to him, along with the house itself. The rest are gifts, mostly. Martin doesn’t buy things for himself very often, aside from what he needs. “Coffee?”

He doesn’t wait for Noah’s reply before heading into the kitchen. He needs a moment to think this over. He’s going to have to lay this out in a way that Noah will not only agree to, but be willing to even attempt at all.

Additionally, Martin finds that having Noah in his house is making him feel antsy. He’s never cared what anyone thinks about him or the way he lives, but now he almost feels self conscious. Noah must be used to a very different kind of accommodation. Less worn hardwood floors and dusty shelves, more marble and modern art. Or maybe that’s just Martin’s ignorant assumption.

Regardless. Having Noah here is making him feel some kind of way, and walking back into the living room to find him sitting on his sofa, flipping through an old picture album, does nothing to make the feeling lessen.

Noah looks up when Martin sets the mug down. “This is you, isn’t it?” He taps one of the pictures on the page. It’s a sepia toned photo of a little boy sitting on a black pony. He’s no more than a couple of years old, legs still too short to reach the stirrups, even on a saddle that small.

“It is.”

Noah grins. “Even you were cute once.” He turns the page. “Never would have guessed.”

Martin watches Noah look through the album. He can see the pictures over the edge of the folder, most of them are of himself, but some of them feature his parents or his grandparents. His uncle is in a few of them. The rest are horses, or dogs, the ones that Martin grew up alongside of.

Noah makes a face when he first takes a sip of his coffee. Not one for having it black, then. But he doesn’t say anything, and he keeps drinking it without complaint.

They better get on with the matter at hand, even though Noah is clearly stalling. “So. Is there more to this that you haven’t told me, or did Gabriel cover most of it?”

Noah puts the album down. “Gabriel doesn’t know everything.”

He waits for Noah to continue. “He knows I got scared after the accident, but he probably thinks that Tansy’s issues are unrelated otherwise.”

“But they’re not.”

Noah shakes his head sadly. “When I got Tansy she was three years old. She was already broke to ride, had all her foundations put on her, ready for me to build her up from there.” He takes a breath. “My old horse, Ducati, was fifteen years old when he died. I think I was so used to him being all mature and level headed that I completely forgot that Tansy was still just a baby.”

He’s rolling the mug between his hands as he speaks, eyes stuck on a spot on the floor somewhere. “One day after a training session, I was walking her back from the arena when I noticed the chin strap on my helmet was coming loose. So I took my hand off the reins to adjust it.” He reaches up to touch his chin subconsciously. “Someone was putting a rain rug on their horse by the barn as we walked past, and as they threw it over the back of their horse the wind caught it. It blew straight into Tansy’s side. She spooked, bolted to the right before I could react and we both went through a fence, ended up with her falling onto me.”

Martin winces. He’s heard countless similar stories over the years.

“It sounds like such a small thing when I tell it like this, but I woke up in the hospital four days later, Gabriel sitting next to me looking like he hadn’t slept in about as long.”

“That’s when the fear started, wasn’t it?” Martin takes a guess.

Noah nods. “It wasn’t too bad at first, but then Tansy got worse and worse, and I got more and more scared. Our last accident was just the final straw.”

It all makes so much sense now, with all the pieces laid out like this. Tansy is only a fraction of the problem, just like Martin had suspected from the start. But she’s also inadvertently the catalyst.

“Here’s what I think.” He says, making sure that Noah is back with him and fully listening. “I think there’s two parts to this problem, Tansy’s deafness is one of them, the other is you.” He taps his finger against Noah’s knee. “I think that when you started to get scared, you also started clamming up. Tansy seems like she’s got a low tolerance for frustration, and when you clam up, you make it harder for her to understand what you want from her. She can’t hear half your cues, she can only feel you on her back. But as your fear got worse, your cues got less clear, and at the same time you were coming up the classes. She had to do harder things, with worse cues from a rider that was too scared to give her the support she needed.” Noah is looking at him with an intensity that he doesn’t quite know what to do with. “That’s the core of your issue, the way I see it, at least.”

Noah heaves a sigh, slumping back against the pillows. “I think you hit the nail on the head.” He looks up at the old ceiling beams above them. “What’s the verdict then? Think you can help us sort out this mess?”

Finally, Martin has a solid answer to that question. “Yes, I really do.”

Noah seems lighter than Martin has ever seen him after that.

Except, it only lasts for as long as it takes them to walk down to the barn, and for Martin to say “Come for a ride with me.” When Noah asks where he wants to start.

He clams up immediately, just like Martin had expected him to. “What? No. Already? Can’t we just-”

Martin takes a rope halter and a lead rope off its hook and shoves it against Noah’s chest. He snaps out of the spiral he’s worked himself into and looks up at Martin with wide eyes. “That’s Bud’s halter.”

Noah looks down at it, finally taking it from Martin’s hand. “I’m not- Not on Tansy?”

“Not on Tansy. I just want you back in a saddle, any saddle.” He grabs Achilles’ halter for himself. “Come on, it’ll do you some good.”

When Martin whistles for the horses, Noah watches in silent surprise as they stop grazing to come running. He can’t stop staring at Tansy, when she finally notices that the herd has taken off, and she comes bucking and leaping up the field behind them to race them to the fence.

She runs right up to Noah to shove her nose into his hands.

Martin hands him a handful of feed pellets from his pocket. “Better giver her what she’s earned.”

“I can’t believe she just did that.”

“She’s clever, didn’t taker long to figure it out.”

He steps over to the gate and opens it wide. “Achilles, Bud, out.” The geldings break away from the rest to make their way out of the pasture. The rest of the horses stand firm where they are, ears pricked curiously to see if they’ll be allowed to come too. Tansy doesn’t wait though.

“Hey, not you, Tansy.” Noah moves to try and stop her, but Martin waves him off.

“Let her come.”

She trots out, head held high to circle around the geldings, where they’ve turned around to let Martin put their halters on. She lines up next to them, like she knows exactly what to do. Even though Martin knows she doesn’t really.

Noah though, is staring at her in shock, like he’s never seen this mare in his life.

“Grab Bud for me, yeah?”

That shakes him out of it.

He struggles for a moment with how to tie the correct knot on the rope halter, but he allows Martin to come over and silently guide his hands though the motions. It brings them closer together than Martin had intended, and every time his hands brush Noah’s soft, warm fingers it feels a bit like touching an electric fence.

He steps away quickly when the knot is done up how it should. The whole thing must have taken no more than a few seconds, but Martin is already hot under his shirt collar.

He clears his throat. Ignoring the way that the back of Noah’s neck has gone a lovely shade of pink. “You ever ridden in a western saddle?”

Martin leads them back towards the barn. Bud and Achilles following happily, with Tansy dancing around them like she’s desperate for them to look at her.

Noah hums. “Not really, not since I was a kid at least.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Martin helps Noah through the motions of getting Bud saddled up, and he tries his best to keep a respectful distance while he does so, despite the fact that Noah seems to have no such plans. It’s almost like he’s trying to make sure they end up touching more than they need to, or like he’s intentionally making sure Martin ends up standing far too close to him. When Martin tries to help him tie the cinch off properly, Noah somehow gets himself positioned so that Martin is reaching around him to do so. This way Martin is left looking over Noah’s shoulder, with Noah practically glued to his front, trapped between him and Bud’s side.

Martin is sweating like he never has in his life.

The worst part is how Noah’s ass is less than an inch from his crotch, and if he so much as brushes against him at this point Martin is going to have to cut this short. He’s gonna have a fucking heart attack.

“There.” He grunts. Tugging the knot into place. “All set.”

Noah looks over his shoulder at him, cheeks just as flushed as Martin’s must be. He’s smiling, the cheeky little shit. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Christ, what the hell is wrong with him. Not three days ago he hated this guy’s guts. Just thinking about him too hard made his blood boil. At what point did fantasizing about punching his lights out turn into thinking about bending him over the nearest available surface.

Martin shakes himself, and forces himself to step away. This is his client. Noah is here because he needs Martin’s help, not to be ogled by a creep of an old man twice his age.

“You gonna be alright?” He asks, instead of saying any of the other things he wants to. Noah needs his support now. He’s about to do something that will likely be hard for him. Martin needs to get his head on straight so he can do this right.

“To be honest, I don’t want to be here right now.”

Martin pats him on the back. “Even if you just get on him and walk him over to the house and back, I’ll let you leave. But you’re not going anywhere until you’ve sat on the horse.”

Noah wrinkles his nose. “Will he stand still while I mount up?”

“He won’t move a muscle. Now lead him outside and put your foot in the stirrup, don’t overthink it.” He nudges Noah onward with a hand on his lower back. He walks like he’s being led to the gallows.

Martin stands at Bud’s head while Noah is hyping himself up to get on. The mustang won’t take so much as a step out of place while he’s mounting up, that much Martin knows for a fact, but he figures Noah might feel safer if he’s nearby, to give the illusion that he’s ready to hold him if need be.

Noah overthinks it. He steps back when Bud gives a snort and Martin catches him by the arm. “Don’t think so damn hard.” He pulls him back, gently but firmly. “Foot, Stirrup. Now.”

Noah gives him a look that that’s full of something like betrayal, but he grabs the saddle horn and puts his foot in the stirrup. He waits there for a second, as if testing to see if Bud will step away, but the gelding has only planted his feet, anticipating the weight shift of a rider climbing on.

From where Martin has still got his hand closed around Noah’s arm, he can feel how badly he’s trembling. It really hits him then just how scared Noah is right now. It makes Martin hesitate.

“Hey.” He says it softly. Noah is frozen. He’s a hard line of tension, staring into Bud’s mottled side. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. You know that right?” Noah looks at him sideways. “Are you just scared, or do you actually want to stop riding? Because you can. No one is forcing you.” He just has to make sure he’s not doing the wrong thing here, by pushing Noah so hard.

Noah takes a deep breath. Holds it, and lets it back out, slow. Then he hauls himself up and into the saddle.

Martin supposes that’s answer enough. “Good job. Now ask him for a walk.”

Bud politely obeys when Noah gives him a nudge, and the two amble down the gravel lot to make a U-turn.

Like Martin had predicted, Noah is stiff as a board, but he’s not gripping the reins or the saddle horn in a death grip. He’s giving Bud plenty of rein, and he’s gentle when he guides the gelding into the turn.

“The western saddle looks good on ya, if you want to hang up the other one.” Martin can’t help the pride bubbling up in him as Noah slowly but surely relaxes into a more neutral position.

“Shut up.” He grouses as he goes past. His eyebrows are tense, like he’s focusing much harder than should be necessary. “You getting on your own horse, or are you just gonna stand there watching me? I feel like I’m taking riding lessons again.”

“You are.” He tosses Achilles’s reins over his back before he mounts up. “I’m starting you and Tansy both from scratch. She’s getting saddle broke and taught her cues all over, and you’re learning how to ride her and how to give those cues.” He shrugs. “Might as well call it what it is.”

Noah snorts when Martin steers Achilles up alongside him and Bud. “That why you put me on the pony?”

“Exactly.” He doesn’t say that the reason he put Noah on Bud is because of that day down by the fence, when the gelding had tried to climb into his lap. He could tell how endeared Noah had been by the little mustang, and how much Bud liked him in return. He could have put him on any of the horses down there, maybe except the filly, but he’d chosen Bud because of that moment. Stupid of a reason as that might be.

Noah makes him think of what Bud was like when Martin first brought him home. How difficult he’d been, how stubborn and aggressive and scared. How he’d responded so well to a slightly firmer hand, clearer boundaries and rules to follow, how he’d learned to like Martin once he learned to find safety in him. Maybe it’s a little fucked to think of Noah as similar, but the lines are so easy to draw.

Tansy, who’d been grazing on Martin’s lawn while they’d saddled up, joins them when they turn their horses in the right direction and head out. They ride down the path between the pastures and the rest of the herd comes trotting over to walk beside them along the fence. Tansy is fresh today, she’s like a foal bouncing around its mother, showing off and being a pest.

Noah chuckles at her antics, watching her play. Even though he sometimes grabs for the saddle horn when Bud’s even steps falter for one reason or another, he seems fairly at ease in the saddle. Sure he’s a little more tense than Martin would have liked, but it’s obvious that he was once perfectly at home on the back of a horse.

Martin takes them onto one of the narrow game trails that lead off the main path. They have to walk the horses in single file down this way, and Martin finds that he doesn’t like not being able to keep any eye on Noah, but he tries his best to keep his eyes forward.

At one point, Tansy, who had ended up at the very back of their little procession, decides that she doesn’t want to be slowed down by the others any longer. Martin only realizes what she’s up to when he hears Noah’s startled gasp behind him. He whips around in time to see the much taller mare force her way past Bud, who flattens his ears at her pushing. Noah’s leg gets momentarily caught between the horses, and he grabs two solid fistfuls of Bud’s mane along with the reins to hold on.

“Ah-Ah.” Martin trows his arm out to the side to slow Tansy down when she comes barreling for Achilles as well. “None of that.” She tosses her head in protest when Martin continues to swing his reins at her, forcing her to slow down and fall into line. She pins her ears at him and in a show of frustration, she sinks her teeth into Achilles’ thigh.

The gelding ignores her, trusting Martin to sort her out.

They bicker for a little while longer, Tansy trying to find an opening, and Martin fending off her attempts, until finally she gives up and settles down.

“You alright?” He calls out to Noah. When he turns around in the saddle he can see he’s no longer clinging to Bud, just watching Tansy’s tantrum with a frown.

“Fine.” He calls back. “She’s such a bitch.”

Martin chuckles. “She’s a menace for sure.”

Eventually the trail widens a little, and Martin steers Achilles off to the side, inviting Tansy to pass them. She takes the offer eagerly, galloping ahead to explore this new area.

Noah and Bud fall into step with them, the trail wide enough now to ride side by side.

“This would make such a fun cross country track.” Noah says, taking it all in. it’s a pretty enough area, despite the scraggly trees and the untamed grass that would reach up to Martin’s chin if he was to dismount. The trail snakes between boulders, small hills and fallen trees. He supposes it could be interesting to set up some jumps along here, if you were into that sort of thing.

“You can take Tansy down here when you’re ready.”

Noah makes a face. “If we ever are ready.”

“You will be.”

[Part 4 here]

[onredrouge]

skk hate each other, and no one's actually surprised.

Everyone seems to be losing their shit over what Asagiri has said. And when I said everyone, it's mostly those skk haters celebrating their imagined downfall of Soukoku. To be honest, what Asagiri said doesn't surprise me anymore. 

I don't really get people saying Dazai and Chuuya don't hate each other when that has been the foundation of their relationship ever since their first meeting. They're both strong in their own ways, and they showcase that by never concealing what they feel about each other. Both of them have never been passively aggressive about that. They show it with their words and their actions; their entire dynamic is built on the fact that they hate each other's guts. Sometimes (or most of the time), it is that "oh, I hate you so much and you should pay attention to me so I could show you how much I hate you" kind of hatred. At some point, it was a childish exchange between two teenagers finally finding a sort of escape from their toxic environment in the form of annoying the hell out of each other. They spent time together, blah, blah, blah, and then it turned to an unexplainable visceral kind of hatred that allows them to work so well with each other like one soul in two bodies. Is it toxic? Maybe it is, just like all the other things they experienced and would never deserve. They're not some high school friends meeting up in a park after class. They're both morally gray individuals who find a sort of familiarity between their shared hatred towards each other. I can't really explain, and I don't even want to try putting into words the kind of connection they have. That's mostly the reason why they're so interesting. Soukoku have this kind of connection that will make you want to rip your hair out just trying to find the right words to describe them.

Hating someone doesn't mean you can't feel other things for them. I think Asagiri just meant to say that hatred is not a mask for anything, mainly because they've always been upfront with their feelings for each other. Whatever other emotions they feel for each other have always been hinted at. I don't know about what Asagiri wants to say about that but it's there. I'd love to see more exploration of their dynamics because I'm genuinely crazy about them, but I've accepted it a long time ago that there's a slim chance Asagiri's going to do any of that. Dazai's still so heavily connected to the mafia, the whole agency is; however, there are so many other connections Asagiri would choose to discuss when it comes to Dazai, and his relationship with Chuuya's most definitely not going to be the first choice no matter how interesting it is for the majority. (I'm going to still dream about that every day though.) It doesn't mean their relationship is suddenly unimportant; that would be contrary to what has been brewing in the manga. It doesn't mean their connection is a thing of the past as their lives are still very much intertwined with each other. However, a deep exploration of their connection is probably only possible once all the major issues in the manga are settled. That's where the derivative works enter the scene. Asagiri's not really going to give us any deeper insight on the other dynamics of their relationship, so fans are free to interpret them in any way they like (just not in a way that trashes their individual characters, like what some skk fans do). Who knows?  Maybe someday we'll learn something more about them. Right now, one thing we're sure about is their hatred for each other (as confirmed by the author himself) and the countless different possibilities fan works can explore. They hate each other? Wow, would you look at that? Another added spice to many series of fics that are sure to come. Soukoku's not ending. Unless Chuuya's going to weirdly disappear in mersault arc, then I don't think this downfall you all are wishing for is going to happen.

[tiwo444]

3-7 Minute Makeup Routine: The Barely Beat

Sometimes, we wanna look effortlessly beautiful, as if we rolled over our beds and woke up as bright angels that just...glow. The Barely Beat does just that. This makeup relies on minimal makeup and basic understanding of your face. Its inexpensive and a lot of the products can be found at your local drugstore or local shop. If clean girl makeup and no makeup makeup had a child, it would be this, and this is my take on a minimal makeup look.

Products

L.A Colors Conceal It in shade Deep

Loreal Lumi Glotion in shade Deep Glow

Maybelline Lash Sensational Sky High Mascara

Loreal Telescopic Mascara

e.l.f Lip Laquer in Whisper Pink

Any clear lip-gloss

Beauty Blender

The Process

So before anything, I like to make sure my skin is prepped and hydrated. Sunscreen is also an important step and I make sure to put it all over my face, neck, and chest and use it as primer.

1.

I start with concealer. I love this concealer because it has a brush tip and my perfect shade so it blends into my skin seamlessly. The key is to apply the concealer wherever you have discoloration AND on your cheeks, forehead, and chin. I apply it in light layers where I have rosacea, under my eyes, around my nose where I have redness, on my smile lines where I have greyness, and on any dark marks and acne. If I need more coverage, I apply another layer or two and blend with my beauty blender like my life depends on it. This evens out your skin tone without it looking like you have too much concealer on.

A big part of this look is very even skin, and even though no one is born with it, everyone can fake it. The concealer shade should be an almost exact shade as your skin tone and shouldn't make you look ashy. If you can't find your perfect shade, mix two shades together (this is what I do with foundation). If your face is a different shade from your chest/neck, apply a lighter shade under your eyes and mid face to give an illusion of even skin.

2.

The second step (that is also the second most important) is highlight!! The key to this whole look is glow. I know people use the Glotion as a glow enhancer before foundation but I like to use it on my face after concealer. I apply it to the back of my hand and use my middle finger to apply the product. I apply it on my cheekbones and blend it all the way to the side of my face, right under my eyes on the outer ends, on my eyebrow bone, on my lids, and on my nose bridge. NOT on my whole face. The Glotion will separate on you if you apply too much all at once so make sure to apply in light layers and letting it somewhat dry between layers. Applying it this way literally gives me the most natural, beautiful, yet UNREAL glow ever. I look like I sweat 24k gold. The concealer and highlight step should be the most time consuming of all the steps.

3.

I then go in and apply one to two coats of Telescopic. The thing I love the most about this mascara is that its very buildable but it's not too much when you don't want it to be. I find that it lengthens your lashes instead of thickening them and I don't feel the need to curl my lashes either.

4.

I use Sky High on my eyebrows. It's pretty self explanatory, I just use the mascara to brush though my brows and I make sure my eyebrows are shaved and shaped to my liking. I follow my natural lash direction and shape and don't care to much about symmetry or perfection.

5.

I then finally go in with my elf lip lacquer and apply it only to the center of my lips. I have two toned lips so I like to make them visible so applying this gloss only to the bottom of my top lip then the center of my bottom lip gives me the 2000's hot older sister, concealer lips, Nicki Minaj Roman Holiday lips look without my lips looking artificial or crazy. The lacquer is pretty sheer though so you have control over how many layers you apply. I've been using this gloss since I was 12 and it has yet to let me down. It's the perfect shade of light pink.

I finally apply clear lip-gloss to top it off. It doesn't matter the lip-gloss brand, just that it's super shiny and I wear whatever clear lip-gloss I can find in my vanity and reapply the lip combo all day. I stay away from lip liner for this look but I occasionally apply liner that is barely a shade darker than my natural lip shade and its not to make my lips bigger but to accentuate my two toned lips. I love my two toned lips too much so the point is to accentuate the contrast between my lips. ♡

The makeup is very minimalistic and brings out your best features, which in my opinion is the best kind of makeup because you still look like you. You don't have to look like the most beautiful woman in the world. You don't have to be Helen of Troy or a gorgeous muse for some famous painter in France. You just have to be the most beautiful woman you can be. Half of this look relies on makeup but the other half relies on an inner glow and beauty. You quite literally won't glow if you don't hydrate yourself, eat enough fruits and veggies, journal, have goals, take care of your emotional/mental health, and take care of your problems in life. The Barely Beat is just the makeup you have on while you solve them.

Happy blending, T.

♡