#permanent eyeshadow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaptersleftunwritten · 5 months ago

Text

Beauty is a beast that roars

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: You quietly long for Eddie’s attention, and when things with Chrissy start to look serious you resort to desperate attempts for him to look at you the way he looks at her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt (no comfort), Eddie is kinda a dick, obsession, hurtful notes being passed, mentions of bulimia/eating disorder, mild stalking, low talk about self image, societal pressure to look a certain way, mental health struggles, characters are 20+ and in a college setting!

divider by @reveriesources

It started as a slow burn inside of your chest. You blamed it on the stress of finals but the more you saw them together, the more that burn worsened into a blaze; scorching your heart and tarring it black.

You didn’t think it possible to be obsessed with someone that you didn’t love- but you worshipped the very ground that Chrissy Cunningham walked on. At times, you thought she was able to read your mind. The way she effortlessly flicks her natural glowing golden hair over her shoulder as she laughs, looking like she was sculpted by Aphrodite herself- or how she presses her perfect rosy lips in peppery and sweet kisses to Eddie’s cheek. She had him wrapped around her skilful fingers. You couldn’t stand it.

It twisted your insides into a rope like knot- so tight and big and uncomfortable. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think straight when you looked at her. At them. Your brain harbouring thoughts of envy, rotting from the inside out with lightless horrid concepts.

You couldn’t help but follow study Chrissy. Her signature blue eyeshadow that adorns her gorgeous blue eyes, her tiny upturned nose, her well proportioned features- her body. You had never repeated this information to anyone before, not even Eddie, because not only would it expose your research into Chrissy, but because you definitely weren’t ever supposed to find out.

You had walked in on her one day in the bathroom. She was hunched over in a stall, her white sneakers peeking out from beneath the cubicle door. She was vomiting. Harshly.

At first you thought she may just be sick, and she was, but it was a different conversation. You entertained that thought until you walked in a second and third time to her in the exact same position- her fatigued body draped over the toilet bowl. You understood how she maintained her physique. It broke your heart; momentarily.

What broke your heart more was that Eddie evidentially had no idea. You knew, deep down, Chrissy was just like you. A sad, broken girl. But she was better at hiding it. The Duchess of disguise. The Queen of your psyche. Your admiration of her was unhealthy, you knew that much. You just couldn’t stop. You needed Eddie to look at you the way he looks at her.

So you cut your hair into a fringe, and you change your clothes. You find your own signature colour of eyeshadow and you even purchase a few skater skirts. Sports had never really interested you until now; now you were trying out for the cheerleading team. And with being Chrissy’s friend- of course she gave you direct entry.

Because despite her beauty, Chrissy was also kind. Which made the knot in your stomach grow firmer, imbedding itself within you permanently.

“Hey, Eddie!” You make sure your voice is dripping with the sweetest form of honey as you bat your mascara thick eyelashes at him. He glances at you from his magazine, quirking a brow at your chirpy energy.

“Hello… What’s up?” He asks, his words clipped as his eyes focus back on the flimsy book he holds sturdily in his hands. God… his hands. The rings that compliment his slender fingers and the bracelets that dress his wrist. You couldn’t get enough of it- of him.

It was impossible for you to hold his attention for more than a few seconds, and you had bound into the library full of hope and partial confidence today. You had pieced together one of your best outfit. A denim jacket draped over your shoulders, a white tank top (with no bra) and a cute skirt in your favourite colour which also matched your eyeshadow. Your hair was in a voluminous pony tail, held up by a great big scrunchie and your eyes were bright with popping colour. Your cheeks were dusted with blush and your nails painted perfectly; with the help of your mother.

You couldn’t think of a reason why Eddie wouldn’t look at you. You looked totally bitchin’!

“Uhm…” you stutter, your small confidence wavering at his lack of interest, “We haven’t really hung out in a while… I thought maybe we could? If you like!” There is a festering in the pit of your stomach, a panic that grows with every anticipating second, “We don’t really hang out anymore... just us, I mean.” You add, hoping further context will make you sound a little less desperate.

You and Eddie used to hang out every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the whole group. But lately… things have changed. And you know the reason why.

Eddie acknowledged you with a hum, finally placing his magazine down and narrowing in on your appearance. You thought you wanted him to look at you, but the intense confusion on his face made you long for the earth to gape open beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Looks like ya did a deep dive through Chrissy’s wardrobe.” His chuckle makes your ears heat and your face flush as his fingertips pluck at the sheer scrunchie wrapped in your hair. You can’t tell if he is joking or not— but to you, it’s a compliment nonetheless.

After a moment of pause and total excitement you gather your composure quickly and cough a meek reply, “I’m trying something new.”

You’re trying to be someone new.

“Hmm,” He examines you further, “I dunno,” Eddie scratches at his chin, his once soft and playful features now express something more distasteful, “I personally prefer your old style— this seems… out of character.” There was a lilt to his deep voice, which made him sound interrogative.

“You.. you do?” You curse inwardly at the stutter in your airy voice. To say his words shocked you was an understatement. They had your jaw hanging loose and your eyes opened broadly. Had you gotten it all wrong? Were you really just as pretty before all of this? Or was he teasing you… was he trying to make you feel better? Was this his attempt at telling you that you look like an utter clown in comparison to Chrissy?

You’d never know… because you would never ever ask him such things.

You think back to a note that got passed to you in class not too long ago- you weren’t sure of the culprit (you suspected Jason) — it read along the lines of,

‘Apply all the makeup you want, but at the end of the day it’s just lipstick on a pig.’

Were you a pig? Was this all just a feeble and comical attempt at beauty? To be desired. To be wanted. It’s all you longed for. It’s all you dreamed of.

You wanted Eddie to see you. To want you. And at this rate, you were losing all hope.

“Yeah,” alongside a small laugh he also flashes you a toothy smile, a mocking smile— and you clamp your jaw closed to stop yourself from shaking out a sob, “Listen, you’re free to chill here with me if you want but— hey!”

You couldn’t take it. The embarrassment. The knife twisting in your chest and puncturing your heart. You flee from the table abruptly before Eddie even has a chance to say anything more to you.

What was wrong with you? You wanted his attention, you wanted him alone and when you got it you despised the humorous way he gazed at you. You didn’t want to be entertaining or funny— you wanted to be loved.

Loved by him.

To please him.

To make him proud…

On exiting the library you pass Chrissy who was entering through the heavy fire doors, clearly she is on her way to meet Eddie. It was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.

The blonde spares you a small smile but not without a worried and intrigued glance at your attire before she is muttering a quick ‘Hello’ which you don’t even bother to return. You are too focused on your pursuit to the bathroom where you can hide yourself in an empty stall and cry without judgement. The only issue? You didn’t bring any makeup wipes for the mascara that has plagued your face in splotches and streaks of black tears.

Your eyes sting furiously and your bottom lip quivers outwith your control. It’s hard to believe that you have allowed yourself to stoop this low, crying shamelessly on campus in front of your peers. Their sympathetic eyes and taunting grins don’t go unnoticed by you as you finally make it to the bathroom, bursting into the void room like a bat out of Hell. Slamming the cubicle door closed and sitting on the toilet bowl where you start to question reality.

What are you doing?

You despise the fact that you know, no matter what, no matter how stupid you look- how ridiculous your clothes are and your sorry attempts at looking pretty, you would continue to do it. Even if people stared, gawked, whistled, laughed… you would continue on this descent into madness. The chase of perfection. The downward spiral of your mind had only just begun and you had a far distance yet to fall.

Whilst classes had finished for a long weekend and everyone was outdoors enjoying what was left of the sun before Fall crept its way in, you were sat in front of your bathroom mirror.

Pulling, pinching, tweezing, twisting, sucking, shaving, grabbing and crying.

God, you couldn’t stop crying.

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t cry.

To you, winter was already here. You were chilled to the bone, hollow in your chest. Insides were sunken. You felt vacant of any joy.

“Honey!!” Your mother yells suddenly from the bottom of the staircase, her voice is cloud like and warm, “Someone is here to see you!” There is a mutter of something inaudible, “Chrissy!” She confirms snippily and your face drops heavily into a worried frown.

“I’m in the shower!!” You shriek back dishonestly and you are reminded that you have a heart as it shudders inside of your chest. You aren’t ready to see her— you don’t have a lick of makeup on, your hair isn’t done and you are still wrapped up in your bath towel.

Your first thought is how do you get rid of her? How do you lie your way out of this?

You couldn’t.

“Okay, she’ll be waiting down here for you then…” Your mother’s voice dies out and you can hear her offering Chrissy something to drink and eat; which Chrissy declines.

You move around your bedroom agilely, hustling to get as presentable as you possibly could to face the girl waiting downstairs for you. It doesn’t quite register that Chrissy is sitting with your mother, chatting and possibly gossiping. All you care about is getting some makeup slapped on your face and some nice clothes hugging your body.

Your hair can be brushed, but you don’t have time to style it— that’ll have to come later. After multiple a few sprays of your favourite perfume that smells like vanilla and a tinge of cedar wood you feel ready enough to leave your sanctuary.

Nearly tripping over your entire wardrobe that covers your bedroom floor you fly toward the door handle, bracing yourself at the top of the staircase before you descend.

Time to meet your maker.

Your intense gaze flicks hurriedly between your mother and Chrissy as they both stand to meet you as you enter into the lounge room. Chrissy’s hair is twirled and curled to perfection and a short pink summer dress embraces her small frame. On her feet is a pair of red Mary Jane heels and you catch a peek at the silver jewellery strung around her neck and her wrists.

“Hi,” you say, feeling like it is the first breath you take since entering the room.

Chrissy bounds over to you, stringing her arms around your shoulders and pulling you in for a quick but sweet hug, “Hi!” She giggles in a sing song tone before pulling away, “You smell amazing by the way! You’ll have to let me know what that is later!” Her fingers linger on the exposed skin of your bicep and you cringe away from her touch.

“Thanks,” Your mother has long left the room and you walk a few paces away from Chrissy.

“We were heading to the movies, you wanna join? It’s meant to be such a warm night tonight!” To your disadvantage Chrissy follows behind you closely, closing the distance you were trying to create between the both of you, “The whole group will be there! Plus, it’s a thriller which I know you love.” She winks at you and you hate that you can feel your lips curving up into a minuscule smile.

“I dunno, Chris.” Your hand palms at the back of your neck, you feel hot with discomfort and to be quite frank all you want to do is lay in bed and mope.

“Please!” She clasps her hands together, inching closer to you— if that were even possible, “I’ll even buy your ticket!” Her pillowy bottom lip pouts out slightly, “I just wanna hang out with you, it’s been so long.”

And she was right. It had been a long time. You had been so swept up in this horrible pursuit of yours that you forgot you were actually friends with Chrissy. Long before you even knew of Eddie’s existence.

A defeated sigh leaves through your nostrils and you raise your shoulders to your ears, “Fine.” You smile, a smile that feels the most genuine it has in weeks.

Chrissy squeals with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot before taking your hand into hers. Interlocking your fingers so she can make sure you don’t make a run for it, “Let’s go, tiger!”

You all find your seats quickly, settling into them with your snacks and beverages. You partially regret not getting a drink but you decide that you’ll be able to soldier through. It’s what you do.

It was no surprise to you that Eddie was there too, but you couldn’t help but panic at the sight of him waiting for you and Chrissy to arrive at the theatre. His tatted arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a love filled smile teasing at his lips as Chrissy trotted over to him, practically jumping into his arms for a hug.

You fell behind them, ensuring you left as much distance as you possibly could. The sight of Eddie alone was enough to send you tumbling into a frenzy of inky feelings.

You could smell Eddie’s cheap cologne mixed with a hint of powerful weed and for a moment it clouds your senses. Taking hold of everything you knew— past, present, future. You couldn’t think about any of it, not with his scent engulfing your nostrils like second hand smoke.

Once the group had settled into the dimly lit theatre you sink into your seat behind Eddie and Chrissy, your shoulders slumping as you wish for the seat to turn into some sort of magical trap door that will transport you to another universe. But of course, you could never be so lucky.

The movie begins with a deafening introduction and you wince at the sound, your finger tips brushing over your ears gently to make sure that they hadn’t been blown off of the side of your head.

Steve occupies the seat next to you, and Robin is next to him with Vickie. You had grown to quite enjoy Vickie’s company. You loved how happy Robin got when she was in touchable reach… you pined for a connection like that.

Normally, you would be in your element as you watched a thriller movie, but something in front of you proved to be far more interesting.

Eddie and Chrissy were whispering sweet nothing into one another’s ear, Chrissy giggling and blushing at whatever it was that Eddie had said— probably something dirty and ridiculous.

And you could handle that. You could endure that.

But what you couldn’t take was watching as their tongues battled it out in a sloppy and erotic kiss. Chrissy had asked you to come and see this film— was it all a rouse just so she could show you who Eddie truly belongs too? So she could dismiss your attempts and break your heart further?

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had clocked the expression on your face. Tears glossing over your eyes, your front teeth gnawing on your bottom lip to try and contain whatever this was that you were feeling— but most importantly, he noticed the newfound stiffness in your body. He could feel you going rigid next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is low and kind and you should have paid more attention to his attentiveness but you don’t.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Is all you reply before lugging all of your stuff loosely and lazily into your arms and bolting for the theatre isle, but not without earning a few confused looks from Robin.

You bypass the restrooms, your eyes focused on the colossal glass doors which would separate you from Eddie and Chrissy officially.

The humid air hits your skin in an agonising envelop of warmth and you pull your sleeve over the palm of your hand to rub against your soaked cheeks.

Your chest feels heavy with every shaking intake of breath that you manage to pull into your lungs. You are heaving, gasping for air as you sob into the thick material of your sweater.

The sound of passing cars hits your ears and you slightly angle yourself away from the access road connecting the theatre to other public establishments. The images of Chrissy tongue down Eddie’s throat plays over and over in your mind— you don’t even know what the film was about because you were so hyper focused on them.

Your skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right over your skeleton and you grab at the material of your skirt, fisting the fabric as you try to ground your raging emotions.

You catch a whiff of theatre food and it causes bile to raise up the back of your throat, vomit threatening to project from your mouth.

People pass you by, their out of context conversations entering one of your ears and leaving the other. You felt so overstimulated— so riddled with anxiety that your brain hadn’t had space to even register Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

But when you do, you flinch away from him, taken aback by the horror stricken look on his soft features, “Hey… what’s going on?” His voice is low, a whisper as he tries to contain the situation between the two of you. Not wanting whatever this is to spill into the public.

You shake your head, your strong walls flagging up, “Nothing,” you dismiss him, “That movie was just… really scary..” you lie through your teeth and your watery eyes betray your words as tears continue to stream down your flushed skin.

“Bullshit.” He spits, his eyes turning to slits as he inches in closer to you, “Tell me what’s wrong right now.” His thick eyebrows have furrowed deeply on his forehead and you continue to deny him of any information.

“Steve— I’m fine! That movie was scary, I’m scared! That’s all… and.. and I needed some fresh air.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping that the messy headed man would leave it at that but he replies to your dishonesty with a discontent shake of his head.

“You’re fucking lying. Why are you lying to me?” He is so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning onto your face, “We’re friends, right?” He cocks his head slightly to the right, his eyes becoming a bit more gentle, “Right?”

“Yes!” You respond instantly, “Of course we are friends-“

“Then tell me what’s going on! What is all of this about!” He gestures to your face, but his eyes scan across your body as well. He wants to know the whole truth, and you aren’t going to give it to him.

“I just told you!” You try not to yell, and thankfully your despair is doing a good job at strangling your voice, “I needed air—“ Steve cuts you off.

“Stop it. Stop it now.” He takes a hold of your arm, hurrying you away from the movie theatre entrance, “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can help! I can help, okay? There’s nothing too big.” You stare into his honey suckle eyes, seeing your owe reflection staring back at you. It causes your stomach to flip with disgust.

“Why can’t you just let this go? I’m fine, Steve! I’m fucking fine! I just wanted air because I felt sick and you’re causing a scene!” You’re yelling now, your once sadness provoked tears turning to anger.

“I’m causing the scene? You’re the one lying to me and busting my balls! I just want to help you!” He takes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone, I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself— you don’t get it! You’ll never get it, Harrington!” You jab at his chest, your body shaking with adrenaline.

“Harrington? Wow, okay. Something is definitely bothering you because you only ever call me that when you are really fucking pissed and I know I haven’t angered you this much so just tell me.” He circles you like a shark in murky water and you flee from him, needing some breathing space.

“Tell me!” He demands, charging after you.

You swing around to face him, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to combust.

“You wanna know, Steve? You really wanna fucking know?!” You march toward him, stopping a few paces away from his large frame.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Your voice is an unattractive squeak, “Is that what you want to know, Steve? Are you fucking happy now?” You’re trembling now— a mix of rage, melancholy and dread.

“I am in love with someone who will never love me back. I… I have tried so hard to win him over.” You pluck at your t-shirt, scoffing at the silliness of it all, “I tried to change everything about me. I tried to be the one he would want but he doesn’t want me. He’ll never fucking want me, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a form of defensiveness, “I’ll always be second best— no.” A moment of ugly realisation hits you, “I’m not even on his list. I’m not even a back up option to him. I’m a nobody. I can’t compete— I can’t compare.”

You’re a mess now. Smudged eyeliner. Smeared lipstick. You are a museum of failed art.

“I am in love with Eddie Munson and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

You try to lessen the blow of your own words with a tight lipped teary smile and a shrug of your shoulders… but whatever was left of your bruised heart was now torn to shreds. Unfixable. Unlovable.

“No one wants me.”

Through your distorted vision you hadn’t even noticed the tears pricking at Steve’s own eyes as he watched you fall to pieces in front of him.

Gently he brings you to lay flat against his chest, one of his hands rest tenderly against your hair whilst the other it draped over your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you silently and allows you to sob into his broad chest— your makeup destroying his pristine white shirt.

A few moments of the embrace pass and that’s when you hear a muted voice from behind Steve’s large frame. A voice you had hoped to not hear— a voice that belonged to someone you had prayed would never ever hear you confess what you just had. A voice that was laced with what you could only pinpoint as malice and repulsion.

Eddie.

“What.. the fuck?”

And as Steve’s body tensed against yours, you blinked away the last of your tears and accepted your fate.

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers

804 notes · View notes

unboundprompts · 2 years ago

Text

Different Ways to Describe Brown Eyes

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

They had eyes like mud, perfectly matched with the frown that permanently stained their face.

Her eyes were as bright as the raging sun and the color of dancing flames.

They wore blue eyeshadow to contrast their dark brown eyes.

Her eyes were as beautiful as the leaves of trees in autumn.

His eyes were nearly black, like a void that held a lifetime of secrets.

Dirt. She had eyes like dirt. They were almost as dirty as her personality.

Their eyes reminded her of old brick libraries and vintage books.

She had the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they bothered to steal pieces of art.

His eyes made her think of the sandcastles she used to build as a kid.

Her eyes were the color of honey, irises swirling like the sweet nectar.

His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned her over with nothing more than a wink and a smile.

Their eyes were the same color as the old oak tree their great-great-grandfather planted in the backyard.

His eyes were the same color as the bottle of liquor in his hand.

They had a smile like spring, but their eyes were autumn with a hint of passing summer.

Her dark eyes were flaked with gold.

His brown eyes had tragedy weaved behind his irises.

Brown, copper eyes that paired with the dry blood stuck to their face watched him as he stalked across the tiled floor.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #otp prompts #soft prompts #prompt list #rp prompts #writing prompt #romance prompts #dialogue ideas #writing ideas #love prompts #character description

7K notes · View notes

haeryna · 1 year ago

Text

thinking about idol!gojo and rockstar!geto (tw: mentions of underage drinking, implied abandonment, implied homophobia from gojo's parents, vague mentions of illness)

how you three, along with shoko, lived in the same ratty small town in the middle of nowhere. you'd moved when you were six, all shy and scared of the house your parents had moved to in order to help your sick grandmother that you barely remembered because the last time you'd seen her was when you were four. you were from the city; you'd never seen fireflies, or grass that stretched out as far as your eyes could see, and so when you saw the first firefly appear just as the sky turned to dusk, how were you supposed to resist it?

so you chased it down to the creek, all smiles and filled with excitement, until you realized it was dark, and you were in the forest, and you were scared. you couldn't help but start to cry, and that's where geto found you.

"are you lost?"

sniffling, you peered up at the dark haired boy, whose soft brown eyes filled with a sort of concern. "y-yeah," you hiccupped, and geto offers up a gentle smile. "it's okay, i know the way back."

and so, you'd taken his hand, let him tug you out of the creek bed, and lead you back toward the house that still didn't quite feel like home. you'd learn, his name was suguru. suguru geto, and wherever suguru geto was, satoru gojo was never too far behind (although you didn't know that, yet).

"you crying?"

you'd let out a startled yelp, still clinging to suguru's hand, twisting to look at the other boy who was staring at you with unrestrained curiosity. even at the age of six, you found him beautiful, with the piercing blue of his eyes, and the soft white down of his hair, even as he mocked you. satoru hadn't known how else to express the sort of silent jealousy that had torn its way through his chest once he saw you holding suguru's hand.

the two of you bickered, all the way back until they left you at your front door, much to suguru's displeasure. yet satoru was beaming; nobody but suguru and shoko dared to speak to him that way. he was too young to understand the way his heart seemed to churn every moment he saw you after .

later, you would meet shoko ieiri, who instantly took a liking to you, defending you with the stubbornness of an older sister you never had.

later, you would realize just how beautiful suguru and satoru were, as they grew. you were the one who pierced suguru's ears (a decision made at 1am in his basement), who bought satoru his first eyeshadow palette (his parents would have died if they'd ever see him use it). and it was eventually you who brought them into music, as you stared up at the ceiling of suguru's basement. the lights grew hazy as you blinked up at them, empty bottles of stolen beer surround you. suguru and shoko were busy smoking a pack of (also stolen) cigarettes, and satoru was on his phone.

"what if we like. made a band?"

you were only 16, and dreamed of leaving the small town you'd moved to. the temporary stay had turned permanent after your grandmother had inevitably passed. shoko immediately snorted. "i love you, but i can't sing for shit."

but you were persistent. you thrifted an old guitar that you gave to suguru as a birthday present, encouraged satoru's angelic singing.

you should have known they would outgrow you.

you're 21 now, still living in the old house, taking care of your parents. the dreams you'd had years ago turned into ash in your mouth. even shoko had left, off to pursue medical school.

you can't stomach looking at the news anymore. satoru has broken into the idol industry, creating equal amounts of chart toppers and scandals. an idol like that only comes once every one hundred years, they say. with the way he moves, the way he acts, you're inclined to believe it.

(when you watch him for the first time, on some variety show, you see him, see the way they've done his makeup, and you're brought back to sitting on the couch, telling him to stop moving or he'll mess up the eyeshadow you attempting to apply. you wonder if his parents were furious at the decision. you wonder where the eyeshadow palette you gave him went. did he take it with him before he left for good? bile rises heavy in your throat, and you shut off the television, unable to stomach it any longer.)

the radio is equally as traitorous. you know suguru has been dominating the indie charts, to the point where it's simply suguru and satoru competing against each other. you hate how whenever you go to the local bakery, you can hear his voice again playing through the speakers. hate how when you make the long drive to pick up your parents' medicine, how you can hear him through your car's speakers. it feels intimate in a way that you cannot bear.

(still, you hear the guitar and remember the look in his eyes when you gifted him the one you'd found in the thrift store. suguru had treated it reverently, telling you with an earnest sort of smile that, "the first song i write will be for you." he's traded out acoustics for rock. he has no need for that guitar anymore, you think absentmindedly. just like he no longer needed you.)

but what you don't know is that every time satoru's makeup artist gets to his eyes, he has to keep them firmly shut or else he'd burst into tears. she didn't do it like you. she never would. every time he steps onto the stage, he looks for you, though he knows he'll never find you. it never stops him from looking. how he sings his heart out in the hopes you'll hear him, unaware that despite his popularity, you avoid his music like it's deadly.

what you don't know is that every time suguru writes, he realizes how he lied to you. "the first song i'll write will be for you," he remembers, and yet now every song he writes is about you. now, girls he doesn't even know, screams his name, screams along to his songs that he wrote for you. they pretend that they're the girl who was left behind, the girl that he's never stopped loving.

(he'll never forget the way your hand fit into his, how even at the age of six he knew that you were the only one who ever had his heart along with satoru)

how on days he misses you particularly badly, the piercings you'd given him burns. he writes his love into his music, the music that you shut off every time you hear it come on the radio.

it changes nothing, if they come back, you tell yourself. suguru and satoru have each other. they don't need you.

but one day they do come back, come back for you, and it changes everything.

#haerinwrites #satosugu x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #satosugu #suguru x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #you cannot tell me gojo would not be a kpop idol he is so bbygirl #i need indie singer geto so bad. not want. need.

1K notes · View notes

welcomingdisaster · 5 months ago

Text

how well various silm ships would do with the "my partner provides the voiceover for my makeup routine" tiktok trend

finwë/miriel: perfect. 11/10. finwe is doing his eyeshadow and miriel is rattling off in her quick breathy voice the EXACT hue and maker of each new powder. you reverse who's doing what and they do exactly as well. do NOT play with them.

tuor and idril: 6/10 tuor was instructed in gondolin court makeup after becoming one of its lords, and can more or less identify most of the elements, though he certainly does not know the proper terms for each of the 8,000 possible hue combinations. if idril is doing the voiceover she will be correct, but will include concerning flashes of foresight. "lipstain... red as blood staining white walls. now we are moving on to blue-setting power, all the all consuming sea..."

feanel: 9/10. technically correct but deeply in the "creative criticism as foreplay" category.

russingon: 6/10. maedhros more or less knows every paint and brush fingon is using on his face but he is making fun of it the whole time. includes lines like "better make sure no one suspects there's skin here" and "absolutely no one will ever accuse me of knowing what a neutral color is." eventually fingon gets sick of him and flips the camera around to zoom on maedhros' face and chant "i am going to put NOTHING on my face and i'm gonna look BAD"

finrod/beor: 2/10. the absolute awe in beor's voice slightly makes up the fact that he cannot tell apart blush and lipstain. refers to everything finrod does as "art."

curufin/curufin's wife: 1/10. they are technically correct but the speed and intensity with which it devolves into personal insults is genuinely uncomfortable to be around.

thingol/melian: 7/10. melian is obsessively correct about everything thingol has put on his face and slightly concerning with her offers to make it permanent. seems to work for them though

daemags: 3/10. neither of them wear make up regularly and only maglor knows how to. the fact that daeron has used 8 adjectives to describe everything maglor is doing does not well disguise that he can identify absolutely none of it

indis/miriel: 10/10. once again miriel is not losing at this game

beren/luthien: trick question neither of them does makeup. beren however CAN name every flower incantation that is a part of luthien's morning routine.

#lena speaks #the most self indulgent post i have made possibly

160 notes · View notes

mayaree-darling · 1 year ago

Note

Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?

of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)

pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader

synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.

from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!

content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader

fic length: 4k~ (unedited)

Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.

How the fuck did you two end up together?

There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.

So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.

"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.

Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.

"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."

Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.

"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.

Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.

You looked like everything he was not.

"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.

You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."

Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."

He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."

Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"

"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"

"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."

Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.

"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.

"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.

"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."

"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.

"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"

You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"

"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.

"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.

"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.

"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.

That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.

"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."

You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.

Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.

"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."

You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.

"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.

"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.

"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.

"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."

He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.

"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."

"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."

"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."

He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.

"Thanks for helping me again."

"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."

"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.

"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"

"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."

He waves you off. "Forget about it."

"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."

"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."

"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."

Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?

"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.

When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.

Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.

Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?

That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.

He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.

He underestimated how dumb people could be.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.

He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.

“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”

“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.

“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.

“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.

“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”

He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.

“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”

The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.

“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.

“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”

They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.

Go for it.

With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.

He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.

What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.

“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.

“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.

*CRACK*

The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.

“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”

Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.

Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.

“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”

Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.

Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.

"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.

"Talk smack, get whacked."

"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"

There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.

“Hey… you.”

“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”

He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”

“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.

“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”

“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

❀BONUS❀

“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”

“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.

“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.

“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”

“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”

You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.

Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact modern au #scaramouche modern au #genshin impact reader insert #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff

602 notes · View notes

lumunesthetics · 2 years ago

Text

Getting the Perfect Powder Brows in Tyson's Corner: What to Expect from Your Powder Brow Appointment

Are you tired of spending precious minutes each morning trying to achieve flawless eyebrows? If so, it's time to consider the latest trend in eyebrow enhancement: powder brows. Powder brows have taken the beauty world by storm, and Tyson's Corner is the perfect place to experience this transformative treatment.

Here, we'll guide you through what to expect from your powder brow appointment at a reputable esthetician service in Tyson's Corner:

Consultation

Your powder brow journey begins with a consultation. During this initial stage, a skilled technician will assess your facial features, skin tone, and personal preferences to determine the perfect shape, color, and density for your powder brows. They will listen attentively to your desires and offer professional advice to help you achieve the ideal look.

Preparation

Once the consultation is complete, your technician will prepare your eyebrows for the treatment. This typically involves cleansing the area and numbing it with a topical anesthetic to ensure your comfort throughout the process.

Application

The next step is the application of the powder pigment. Using a specialized microblading machine or a manual shading technique, the technician will delicately deposit the pigment into your skin, creating a soft, powdered effect that mimics the appearance of filled-in eyebrows. The process may take around two hours, depending on your unique requirements.

Aftercare

After your powder brow treatment, the technician will provide you with detailed aftercare instructions. It's essential to follow these guidelines to ensure the best possible healing and long-lasting results. Expect a healing period of approximately four to six weeks, during which you should avoid excessive sun exposure, scratching, or picking at the treated area.

With the service of Lumun Esthetics for powder brows Tyson’s corner, you can achieve the perfect set of brows that are effortlessly defined and beautifully shaped. Say goodbye to the daily struggle of eyebrow makeup and hello to the magic of powder brows.

#powder brows Tyson’s corner #beauty #blush #eyeshadow #face masks #skincare #brows DMV #ombre brows Maryland #lipblush fairfax #esthetician fairfax #lip blush tattoo northern virginia #permanent makeup northern virginia #lash lift fairfax VA #cosmetic tattoo Washington DC #facials fairfax VA

1 note · View note

lobotomisedsims · 2 months ago

Text

SIMS 4: BEETLEJUICE MOD

Though I know I should be wary,

Still I download some mod scary,

Ghostly CC I turn loose:

BEETLEJUICE!

MORE INFO UNDER CUT

New CAS items:

Beetlejuice's suit (4 swatches, clean and moldy versions and different shirt colours)

Beetlejuice's trousers (2 swatches, clean and moldy versions)

Beetlejuice skin (different versions found in different places. You can find them in eye details, face paint, lipstick, and eyeshadow. Lots of different swatches for the version you want!)

Dolores's stitches (in facepaint and body scars. Version in scars has the stitches and seams separate to be put together similar to GrimGuide's halloween stitches if you've ever used that before)

Sandworm eyes (in... eyes. Where else would they be?)

Sandworm skins for SaveState furries (also works with SoraFoxy's furries and tomjj's furries, though some of the bird beaks look odd. Does not work for benji's furries. Looks weird.)

New BuildBuy stuff:

Delia's statues (set of 4, found in 'decoration'. This was my first time modeling in Blender so sorry if they came out a lil wonky!)

Beetlejuice's tombstone (3 swatches, 2 of different spellings of his name and 1 in simlish. Found in 'decoration'. PURELY DECORATIVE, DOES NOT FUNCTION AS AN ACTUAL TOMBSTONE! To get it to look more like the version from the films, I'd reccomend using the bb.moveobjects cheat to add a lil gargoyle of some sort on top)

Handbook for the recently deceased (MIGHT require Seasons? It shouldn't since I messed with the mesh and stuff but if you don't have that pack and it doesn't show up in your game let me know. 2 swatches for English and simlish. Found in 'activities and skills')

Striped wallpaper (10 swatches! I kind of went overboard. Found in 'wallpapers'... duh)

Striped chair (5 swatches, found in 'comfort'. Again this shouldn't require anything else if I edited the mesh properly, but it's possible this might require Cottage Living if I screwed up.)

New traits:

STRANGE AND UNUSUAL TRAIT

Faster at training photography and medium (from paranormal stuff) skills

Slower at building friendship and romance with other sims

Stronger 'sad' moodlets

Become inspired around occult sims (vampires, werewolves, aliens, spellcasters, mermaids, and the skeletons from jungle adventure)

Permanent happy buff when they themself become an occult (does not include the skeletons as it is a hidden trait you can't give to sims without cheats or other mods)

Random chance for sad moodlet because "nobody understands them"

Are happy when in Strangerville, become inspired in the secret lab (fair warning, I've had issues with getting this to work, this is my first set of traits so it could cause some issues! If anyone better at this stuff than me knows how to get this working 100% of the time please let me know ;u;)

Can give a "strange introduction" to new sims

Can "share dark thoughts" with other sims

Can "enthuse about cryptids"

NOTE: If you are planning on making Lydia, I would reccomend using this in conjunction with the base game 'gloomy' trait. When making this trait I didn't want to just replicate Lydia's personality exactly since I wanted this to be a trait you could use on any sim, and I didn't want to make it too similar to the 'gloomy' or 'paranoid' traits.

GROSS GHOST TRAIT

Immune to death! Since they're already a ghost and all that

Faster at training mischief and medium (from paranormal stuff) skills, slower at training charisma

Playful buff when engaging in mischief

Social need decays fast, hygiene need decays REALLY fast

Positive reaction to being dirty or in a dirty environment (including the fixer-upper apartments in city living! Receives energised moodlet upon spotting roaches and inspired moodlet with the unexplained smell)

Gains uncomfortable moodlet when clean

More likely to feel playful

Other sims will notice a gross smell around them...

Cats and dogs are scared of them (could not figure out how to do the same with horses, sorry)

Can "gross out" (mischief) and "freak out" (mean) other sims

Can "lie about being a serial killer in a past life" and "convince to visit the Neitherworld" (mischief)

Can "confess to eating bugs" and "reminisce on past pranks" (friendly)

Can "tell terrible puns" (funny)

OPTIONAL BONUS STUFF!!!

Suit and trousers based on my OC Sirius (I don't know why anybody else would wanna use these but I threw them in there anyway!) 2 swatches

I did make their little noose 'necktie' too but had trouble texturing it. No matter what I do it just shows up completely black in game. So I gave up lol

>> DOWNLOAD HERE!!! (SFS) <<

PLEASE READ! For the traits you NEED to also download the .ts4script file, not just the .package file!!!

OTHER RECOMENDED CC (important)

Some of these are REQUIRED for parts of the mod to work, others are other people's Beetlejuice related CC I thought was cool!

SaveState's furry mod (REQUIRED FOR SANDWORMS) https://www.savestatecomic.com/dlc/

@daylifesims's Lydia hair https://www.tumblr.com/daylifesims/700120977032560640/gothic-side-set-lydia-and-here-is-the-most

@kismet-sims's Lydia hair (now you got two options! lol) https://kismet-sims.tumblr.com/post/179286280949/simbleen-gift-one-lydia-hair-made-it-from

@mosneakers's posepack + Lydia inspired hair https://www.tumblr.com/mosneakers/765876897461764096/day-o-posepack

@I-too-love-mr-beetlejuice's musical Beetlejuice CAS stuff https://makesims-finds.tumblr.com/post/190684018895/ok-so-i-was-getting-impatient-and-decided-to

Divider by @strangergraphics!

#simblreen #beetlejuice #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims #the sims #sims 4 cc #sims 4 mods #sims4 #ts4cc #the sims 4 cc #my cc #buildbuy #cas #create a sim #build buy

132 notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 4 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/puckinghischier/761817450643849216/can-someone-please-just-send-me-lil-thoughts-n?source=share

im thinking about soft and playful intimacy with our nico!

showering together (not in a sexual way but in the way where you have bubble baths and shampoo each other's hair)

doing skincare together (he doesn't have his own routine, quite literally having just a type of 23-in-1 face wash thing, but he lets you put your products on him and does face sheets with you (he loves the ones with animals printed as the face design))

shaving together (well, it's just you shaving his beard because "if it really has to go, let me be the one to put it to rest" and "schatz you're being so funny, it'll grow back" and then "stop talking im actually going to cry because of this")

drawing on each other's skin (just silly little doodles on each other's palms or forearms!! he's really thinking of saving one and having it permanently tattooed but he's not sure which one)

putting makeup on each other (because "if you want to practice your eyeshadow look on me, i get to do one on you too" and then "is that your way of saying you want me to sit on your lap for like seven hours?" and then "i dont take seven hours *then he gets pouty*")

resting a hand on each other or giving each other a squeeze when you pass by but you're off to talk to different people (a squeeze on the forearm or at the small of the back is enough to acknowledge each other's presence)

okay i’m really stuck on the tattoo one because when he comes home after a long stretch of road games and you don’t want to be apart from him any more than you just were, so you join him for the aforementioned silly shower, but in the middle you notice the new smudge of ink on the under side of his forearm

when you question him about it he’s all casual about it, just shrugging and being like “i really liked the heart you drew, so i decided to get it tattooed” and then goes back to giving you a soap mohawk without another word as if he didn’t just cause your heart to explode in your chest bc he decided to get something you drew on him while you were both wine drunk and silly with boredom tattooed on his body forever, simply because you drew it on him

#alliyaps #i fear i need him terribly #nico hischier #new jersey devils #hockey #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier x you #nico hischier blurb

82 notes · View notes

starealm · 18 days ago

Text

Cursed To Slay

SUMMARY: nico pissed off drew, so she put the worst curse on him: ✨glamour!✨

WORDS: 2,510

TAGS: fluff, lowkey gender identity questioning (like when you squint), boys kissing, one shot, canon compliant, leo shows up at the beginning (!!!), permanent makeup, boy in makeup

inspired by this post

─── ✹ ───

The first inkling that something was wrong came as Nico di Angelo made his way toward the pavilion for breakfast. Campers turned to look at him—not the usual fleeting glances he’d grown used to as the son of Hades, but lingering stares that prickled at the back of his neck. Some even whispered to each other, their voices too low to make out. A knot tightened in his stomach. He’d endured plenty of stares over the years, but this felt different.

As he passed a group of Demeter kids, they giggled, their heads ducking together like they were sharing a private joke. Anxiety flared, and he snapped at them. “What?”

They froze, wide-eyed, before muttering hasty apologies and scattering like startled birds. The interaction left him even more unsettled. His discomfort grew with each step, his shoulders hunching as he tried to ignore the attention that seemed to follow him.

“Chico Nico!”

Leo Valdez’s cheerful voice rang out, cutting through the tension. The son of Hephaestus jogged up, slinging an arm around his’s shoulders with his usual casual ease.

“Hey, Valdez,” Nico muttered, shrugging off Leo’s arm.

“Ay, still so distant. At least call me—whoa!” The Latino’s words faltered as he leaned closer, studying the younger demigod’s face with a tilt of his head. Then he whistled, his grin widening. “Looking sharp today. What’s the occasion?”

“What are you talking about?” Nico asked, frowning.

Leo gestured vaguely at Nico’s face, his expression equal parts amused and impressed. “The makeup. Got an anniversary? Or are you just trying out something new?”

The son of Hades froze. “What makeup?”

“Uh, all of it?” Leo tilted his head. “Or are you telling me you just woke up like this?” He laughed lightly, but Nico didn’t share his amusement.

Panic rose in Nico’s chest. Without another word, he bolted toward his cabin, ignoring Leo’s confused shout behind him. His heart pounded as he slammed the door shut and rushed to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, he stared at his reflection.

His stomach dropped.

Leo wasn’t joking.

Smoky eyeshadow framed his dark eyes, sharp eyeliner accentuated their intensity, and his lashes looked impossibly long and thick. Highlighter shimmered on his cheekbones, making them look sharper than ever, and his lips were painted a deep, rich burgundy, completing the look. The makeup wasn’t subtle or understated. It was full glam and flawless, as if applied by a professional.

“Tanaka,” he snarled, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

It could only have been Drew Tanaka. He’d bumped into the daughter of Aphrodite on his way to breakfast, and their brief exchange had been anything but friendly. Of course, she’d curse him over something as petty as telling her the truth. Immature as always.

He stared at his reflection, the weight of the situation sinking in. No wonder everyone had been staring. A boy in makeup? This was practically begging to be laughed at. He felt his stomach churn with humiliation. As if being gay and the son of Hades wasn’t already enough to ostrich him, now he had to look like a girl too?

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered. “How long is this supposed to last?” He splashed water on his face, scrubbing furiously with soap, but the makeup didn’t budge. Not even a smudge. It was as if it had fused to his skin.

He groaned in frustration, leaning heavily against the sink. There was no way he could go out like this.

And yet, as his gaze lingered on his reflection, a small, treacherous thought crept into his mind. The longer he looked, the less horrified he felt. The makeup… didn’t look bad. He… actually looked nice. The eyeliner made his eyes look even more striking, and the lipstick gave him an air of elegance he’d never associated with himself before.

‘No,’ he shook his head violently, as if trying to dislodge the thought. ‘This is ridiculous. Makeup is for girls.’

Running a hand through his messy hair, Nico walked back to his room and grabbed Will’s old hoodie (one he had outgrown) from his closet. It was oversized and worn, the kind of thing he liked to steal because it smelled of his boyfriend and comforted him. He pulled the hood over his head, hiding his face from the world—even though he was in the safety of his cabin.

He sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. His mind raced as he debated his options. Should he stay hidden until the curse wore off? Maybe he could walk around wearing a mask and sunglasses? No, that would draw even more attention.

Brooding, the son of Hades stared at his blanket, his thoughts spiraling.

─── ✹ ───

At noon, his solitude was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Nico? Are you in there?”

“Go away!”

There was a pause, long enough for Nico to think he’d been left alone. But then the door creaked open anyway, and Will Solace stepped inside, because of course he did. When did he ever listen? Sometimes he hated his worrisome boyfriend. Why did he have to care so much, to the point of checking on him in person? Stupid Will.

“Well, you are awake,” the son of Apollo said, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He sat on the bed beside Nico, without being invited. “What’s with the hoodie? Are you sick?”

The Italian teen shook his head, his voice flat. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then what is it? You weren’t at lunch. Or breakfast, for that matter.”

Hesitantly, he turned to face Will, face still hidden. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

Will’s brow furrowed, his tone softening in worry. “I promise. What’s going on?”

With a reluctant sigh, Nico tugged the hood down, revealing his painted face. He closed his eyes immediately, bracing for the worst. The silence stretched, and he felt the heat of Will’s gaze on him. Then, finally, a gasp broke the quiet. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

“Wow,” Will breathed, his voice filled with awe. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Then his lips curved into a wide smile. “You look amazing, Angel!”

Nico scowled, heat rushing to his cheeks. “It’s a curse,” he said quickly. “Tanaka did this to me. I didn’t choose it.”

The blond tilted his head, studying Nico’s face with a mix of awe and admiration. “Maybe you should. Curse or not, this look suits you.”

The son of Hades glared, yanking the hood back up, though his blush deepened despite himself. “Are you messing with me right now? Boys don’t wear makeup, Will.”

“No, I’m serious,” Will countered, gently pulling the hood back down. “Look, I get why you’re upset, but there’s nothing wrong with guys wearing makeup. Anyone can wear it. If I had the time or skill, I’d totally try it. And you—” He gestured at Nico’s face. “You definitely got a face for it.”

Nico’s glare faltered, his expression softening into uncertainty. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do I have a girly face?”

Will cupped his lover’s cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the skin. “No. It means you’re beautiful, Nico. And the makeup just highlights that.”

Before Nico could respond, Will leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

The touch was brief, but it left him reeling. He blinked up at Will, his heart pounding, and found him grinning, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. He knew that look all too well. “What are you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering…”

“About?” Nico prompted, narrowing his eyes.

Without warning, Will pushed the younger down onto the mattress, his hands firm on his shoulders. Nico let out a startled yelp, his heart racing as his boyfriend loomed over him.

“Will—” he started, but his words were cut off as the medic kissed him hard. There was no hesitation, no explanation, just the press of Will’s lips against his own. Nico’s initial shock melted into something warmer, and he found himself kissing back, his hands clutching at Will’s shirt. The kiss was unhurried yet intense, their movements perfectly in sync.

When they finally broke apart, Will sighed dramatically, still hovering over his lover. “Well, that’s disappointing,” he said, his tone laced with mock dejection.

Nico blinked up at him breathlessly, his mind still catching up. “What?”

“I was hoping the lipstick would smear,” Will replied with an exaggerated pout. “But nope. It’s still perfect.”

For a second, Nico just stared at him, stunned. Then, to his own surprise, he burst into genuine laughter. The sound was light and unrestrained. “You’re ridiculous,” he said between chuckles.

“Hey, a boy can dream,” Will quipped unabashedly. “In books, love and kisses always break spells!”

The son of Hades rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. He reached up, wrapping his arms around Will’s neck and pulling him closer. “Shut up and try again already,” he whispered, his voice low and playful. “Try harder this time. Or better.”

Will hummed, his grin turning into a smirk. “Is this a challenge, darling?”

“Maybe it is, amore mio,” Nico replied, his tone daring.

The blond didn’t need more encouragement. He leaned down again, closing the last inch between them, and their lips met once more. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a quiet intensity that made Nico’s chest ache in the best way.

They easily lost themselves in the moment, tangled together. Nico’s fingers tangled in Will’s hair, and Will’s hands cradled Nico’s face as he kissed him again and again. Each time, the younger teen would pull back, breathless and laughing, only to have Will pull him close once more.

Despite Will’s greatest efforts, the makeup remained perfectly intact.

“You’re terrible at this,” Nico teased, grinning, when they took a break and Will inspected his face with furrow brows.

“Or maybe the curse is just too good.” Will sighed defeated, but still smiling.

“Or maybe you don’t love me enough to break it.” Nico feigned offense.

The son of Apollo gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Di Angelo. How dare you doubt my feelings for you.”

With that, he dove back in, peppering his lover’s lips with quick, playful kisses that made him giggle uncontrollably.

The world outside the cabin and the curse itself faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of them, their laughter and whispered words mingling as the sun slowly moved across the sky.

─── ✹ ───

Later that evening, they lay tangled together in comfortable silence, Nico’s head resting on Will’s chest as he listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He absentmindedly fiddled with the older teen’s fingers, unsure whether to voice the thoughts swirling in his mind. Meanwhile, Will’s free hand gently carded through his messy black hair, the motion soothing and familiar.

“Will?” Nico eventually called out, his eyes still fixed on their hands.

“Yes?”

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Nico looked up at his boyfriend, his fingers still fidgeting. “Does… Do I… really not look foolish?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Will’s hand stilled, and he met Nico’s gaze with a gentle expression. “Not at all,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I think you look stunning, Nico. Red looks really good you.” He took his hand into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But more importantly: what do you think?”

Nico hesitated, his gaze dropping back to their hands. “I… I don’t hate it,” he admitted after a moment, his voice laced with uncertainty. “Maybe. I don’t know. This is all so new to me.”

A soft smile curved into Will’s face. “That’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now. But for what it’s worth, I think you should experiment—try new things—once the curse wears off. Even if it’s just for yourself here in the cabin.” His hand slid from Nico’s hair to rest on his hip, pulling him closer. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to his lover’s forehead.

The younger teen considered his words. The idea was strange, foreign, but not entirely unappealing. The thought of exploring this side of himself felt daunting, yet… intriguing. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice carrying a note of quiet confidence. Then, closing the small gap between them, he pressed a soft kiss to Will’s lips. “Thanks, amo.”

Will smiled against his lips, his arm tightening around him. “Always, Angel. Just remember, whatever you decide, I’ll love and support you.

Nico’s lips twitched into a small smile and a teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “Even if I decided I wanted to be a girl?” He asked, half-joking but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

“Babe, I’m bi,” Will pointed out amusingly. “I’ll like you no matter what. Even if you decided to shave off all your hair and walk around in a potato sack.”

Rolling his eyes, Nico let out a snort. “I’m not shaving my hair. Don’t worry. Nor will I ever walk around in garbage.”

“Good. Because I love your hair. It’s so soft.” Will ran his fingers through it again for emphasis.

“I’d never do it,” Nico assured him, leaning into the touch.

Unfortunately, their peaceful moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, Kayla’s voice came through. “Will, it’s time you got back to the infirmary. You can be all lovey-dovey later.”

The medic sighed dramatically. “Duty calls,” he said, pressing one last kiss to Nico’s lips before detangling himself.

Nico sat up, watching as Will headed for the door. The daughter of Apollo stood there, arms crossed, but as he stepped out, she handed him something. Then she turned and tossed an object at Nico, which he caught reflexively.

It was an apple.

“Eat that,” she commanded.

Nico raised an eyebrow, holding the apple up. “What am I, a horse?”

Kayla smirked, crossing her arms again. “Nah, horses don’t sulk as much as you do. But you’ve been hiding in here all day, and Will won’t be able to focus knowing he left you hungry and alone.”

“That’s… true,” the son of Apollo agreed with a chuckle, already munching on his own apple.

Nico rolled his eyes, biting into the apple with an exaggerated crunch. The apple was sweet. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” she replied, while Will also hummed approvingly. They said their goodbyes and turned to leave but Kayla paused, glancing back at him. “By the way, the makeup? Kinda badass.”

Caught off guard, Nico blinked. “Thanks, I guess.”

Then they were gone, leaving the son of Hades alone with his thoughts—and the apple. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. Maybe having people who cared wasn’t so bad.

And in the end, the curse didn’t feel much like a curse at all. More like a blessing in disguise.

Maybe.

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #kayla knowles #leo valdez #drew tanaka #tumblr fanfic #makeup #pjo fanfic #pjo #fanfic #one shot

56 notes · View notes

velvet-games · 7 months ago

Text

in the middle of working on a lucifer redesign :)

thoughts/explanations + minor character analysis under the cut (this was supposed to be short but it ended up being very thorough lmao):

honestly love his canon design so I'm kind of working from that more than I'm trying to rethink stuff from scratch

I'm gonna admit right now that a lot of the design choices were very self indulgent lol; I just want him to be pretty :<

circus stuff~

I've seen a lot of people raise their eyebrows at the circus motif, so I was going to try something different, but I actually think it makes a lot of sense!

I think freakshows/circus acts have been tied to this idea that certain identities/abilities are strange and shameful, only valuable as dehumanizing entertainment -- they're mistakes, freaks of nature

but at the same time many circus performances require a lot of skill and work and love that can go unappreciated, each and every performer at the very least a person worth respecting

I think lucifer sees hell as a freakshow/circus he's been forced to lead and try to control

a bunch of wayward toys meant to be bright and beautiful that have been twisted into something terrifying

and he needs to discover a more empathetic, appreciative, and loving way to think about sinners

and also to realize that it's not about him or his mistakes; it's about a group of people with their own emotions and autonomy that he needs to respect

anyway

all that to say: we're keeping the circus ringleader thing!

I think a whip would make more sense for a ringleader, esp since alastor has a staff already (but they're enemies/foils so maybe their designs should reflect each other?)

there's room to turn the whip into a snake maybe

in the pic I made it look like his tail bc I considered making his actual tail a goat tail (cute! but the longer one suits him better I think)

maybe an apple on the top/handle still

the tux honestly looks a little too formal/cool for him most of the time lmao

so I think he should take off the jacket/have the toymaker apron on instead unless he's fighting

vaudeville doll~

lucifer has a lot going on tbh: circus ringleader, angel, devil/demon, snake, goat, vaudeville porcelain doll, toymaker, etc.

I think I'm gonna take out snake just to simplify a little, but I'll talk about that more later

I was also going to take out porcelain doll but

1) the rosy cheeks are super cute

2) fits with the circus theme

3) fits with the idea that he's both a toy and toymaker (an angel that tried to play god)

uhhh there's a couple self indulgent doodles of him in a vaudeville doll dress lol. not relevant to the design at all; I just like drawing stripes and ruffles

I ended up making him sort of androgynous in a lot of ways? (not that he wasn't already lol) which works for him I think

part of it was the vaudeville doll thing; I wanted to give him (keep?) the eyeshadow and add those little vertical marks you see on them sometimes

also because I really liked the puff sleeves in one of the references I used; it kind of emphasizes an extended hourglass shape with the puffy pants

plus I love drawing the more classic tuxedo shape <3 very yummy lines and details

hair/shape~

I fucking LOVE when people draw him with messy hair, so I made that permanent

I also think (esp since he's blond) having the hair stick out in tufts kind of makes it look like a star (morningstar, lightbringer, etc. etc.)

even more so with the pointy horns (those are also fun to draw cause they're right in the corners of his widow's peak)

I drew a random triangle on one of these as a reminder to keep the pointy/triangular shape language throughout lol

squares would def be wrong with the implications of sturdiness and stability

I think circles would be wrong too? he's vulnerable and ultimately very soft inside so I kept a lot of round lines, but I don't think he's the traditionally bubbly/friendly/peaceful archetype circles are usually used for

triangles are apparently dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable, which is a little closer to what I'm going for

(shape language is a very flexible rule btw; I'm not saying they determine everything about a character or that one shape has to mean exactly one thing)

he's also a depressed, tortured soul, so I feel like he should look just a little unhinged and exhausted <3 (hence the eyebags on top of the messy hair)

angel stuff~

(sidenote: cherub and seraph are singular, cherubim and seraphim are plural. even the show gets this wrong tho, so feel free to say whatever ig)

I'm pretty sure most people agree lucifer was probably a cherub? cherubim only have 4 wings so I might go with that

I do think it makes more sense if he's higher ranking like a seraph tho ... it's hard to decide whether to go with the show's ideas about angels or actual religious texts cause both are interesting in their own ways

snake~

ARHHGHJF idk how I feel about his nose

again I thought about taking out the snake motif, but he honestly looks good w/o a nose (I mean it's there obviously but you can't see it if it's just snake slits lol), and I definitely like the idea of him having a forked tongue or his eyes turning into slits when he's angry

also also

mini rant on animal motifs in hazbin:

I get the impression that a lot of people think it's a bad thing that you can't tell what animal a character should be? and/or that a motif has to be clearly present in the entire design to be good

and I kind of just accepted that until I started thinking about ozzie's design from helluva boss

like the original demon he's based on is really just that fucked up and mixed with animals you can't always identify

and chinese dragons are like a billion different animals even though they sort of just look like lizards at the end of the day

like obviously if you want the audience to associate a character with a specific animal (like if you want people to think a character's spooky because they're a spider or something), then you do want the animal motifs to be clear/consistent

but sometimes you just want certain elements there and it doesn't matter if the audience picks up on it (at least consciously)

and I think with someone like lucifer, having a lot of animals/concepts mixed together in an ungodly combination makes sense lol

so idk

maybe we'll just give him the nose/tongue

I did try just giving him a button nose in some of these for the doll thing tho

goat/charlie~

urgh I hate realizing I should've designed certain characters together lol

I took out the rosy cheeks in my original charlie design since I wasn't thinking about lucifer, so I put them back in this time lol (and generally thought about how they should be visually related)

I like that it enforces the idea that charlie's lucifer's creation (toymaker makes a doll in his own image yk)

also they both have puff sleeves now :) (charlie's design is basically princess dress silhouette but make it a suit)

I also gave her goat ears, so I figured lucifer should have them too? idk because I like the way his hair looks a lot better without them, and I kind of like the idea of giving them diff combinations of goat features (maybe she should have a goat tail?)

also drawing this made me realize I have no idea why charlie has a puppy nose??? I thought it was the goat thing for some reason but that doesn't make any sense

maybe I'll just give her no nose

anyway! fucking incredible if you read all of that; idk what possessed me to write so much about a half-finished design lol. feel free to leave suggestions/answers to the questions I had!

#I was gonna draw some radioapple stuff and then realized I hadn't touched lucifer's design yet lol #still not done obviously but I have a working version now at least #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #art #my art #character design #oh yeah I guess there's one #hazbin hotel alastor #in this one #oops

140 notes · View notes