#please appreciate shadow's eyeliner

[find-your-flame]

knuckles hat alt + a shot of the marking he has underneath his shirt (exists on both versions), and shadow with the yellow eyes he has in Team Sonic Racing Overdrive

hero forge is supposed to be for D&D minis but honestly i just use it as 3D fullbody picrew. anyway gang

[urdreamydoodles]

Can you please make an X-Men with a goth reader?? With Logan, Scott, Remy, Rogue, Pietro, etc.

We need more x men that can handle a goth baddie 😭🙏

X-Men x Goth!Reader

How the X-Men react to their gothic s/o

Wrapped in dark elegance, your presence is a mystery, a shadow that moves beside them.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Oh my god, thank you for this prompt. I hadn't thought of that yet, and now I'm in love. (And yes, the X-Men need a goth baddie) Hope you like it <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan was immediately intrigued by your dark, edgy look. He’s always appreciated individuality, and your gothic style is no exception. There’s a look of quiet admiration in his eyes whenever you’re dressed up in dark attire, heavy eyeliner, and your signature accessories. He finds it a refreshing contrast to his own rugged appearance, and there’s a glint in his eye every time he sees you dressed to the nines in your gothic style.

- Despite his rough-and-tumble nature, Logan has a soft spot for taking care of you when you’re adjusting your outfit or fixing your makeup. He’s rough with his own appearance but becomes surprisingly delicate if you need him to hold a pin, help fasten a corset, or even steady your eyeliner in a moving vehicle. Logan finds a sort of pride in your style and will gruffly mutter about how you don’t need any of it to look “kickass” — though he never actually tells you to change.

- Logan has always been a bit protective, but seeing you in such unique attire intensifies that instinct. Whether you’re out in public or at a party with other mutants, he’s hyper-aware of anyone staring too long or making a comment. Anyone who tries to criticize or judge your appearance will face Logan’s steely glare, and if anyone dares to say something unkind, Logan will growl out a curt, “Watch your mouth.”

- Logan takes you on adventures in the forest, where your aesthetic is at home against dark trees, shadows, and the moonlight casting a pale glow. He notices the way your love of all things dark blends so well with nature, and he’ll sometimes surprise you with gifts like black roses or unique stones that he finds during his travels. There’s an unspoken connection between his wild spirit and your gothic beauty, and he feels that keenly.

- In private, Logan can’t help but be a little captivated by you. When you’re together, he takes a moment to admire you in the shadows, noticing the details in your clothing, jewelry, and makeup. He’ll run his fingers over your darkened nails or twirl a piece of your hair, finding the gothic aesthetic mysterious and alluring. He may be a man of few words, but the way he looks at you says it all.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was charmed from the moment he saw your gothic look. He’s always been drawn to unique personalities, and your dark, striking style caught his attention immediately. He’s often complimenting your bold choices and teasingly asks if you’re trying to cast a spell on him with your bewitching look. Every time you add something new to your ensemble, he’s the first to notice and give an enthusiastic approval.

- Remy loves accessorizing and will often gift you trinkets and jewelry that he thinks match your aesthetic. He has an eye for detail and will go out of his way to find vintage rings, unique chokers, or bracelets that fit right into your gothic wardrobe. Sometimes he’ll even joke that he “borrowed” it from a wealthy socialite, adding a bit of thrill to each item he gives you.

- Whenever you’re out together, Remy makes it clear to everyone around that he’s proud to be by your side. He doesn’t mind being the center of attention, and he revels in the way people stare at the two of you together. Your gothic style, paired with his smooth Cajun charm, makes you both an irresistible sight, and he absolutely loves the dramatic effect you create as a couple.

- Remy isn’t shy about getting involved in your look either. He’ll sometimes join you in wearing darker colors, occasionally adding a dark coat or some subtle accessories to match your aesthetic. And whenever you put on darker lipstick or smudged eyeliner, he’s quick to lean in, smirking and saying, “Chere, you tryin’ to make a bad boy outta me?” before sneaking a kiss and smudging your lipstick.

- At the end of the day, Remy loves the way your dark, bold look contrasts with his playful nature. In private moments, he’ll trace his fingers over your jewelry or adjust your lace gloves, smiling in admiration. There’s something about your mysterious beauty that makes him feel even more protective and infatuated, and he’ll often pull you close, murmuring about how he’s got a taste for danger — and you’re exactly his type.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt is utterly enchanted by your gothic style. To him, it’s a beautiful form of self-expression, and he admires your ability to embrace it so wholeheartedly. His own appearance has always set him apart, and your willingness to stand out with your unique look makes him feel seen and appreciated. He’ll often tell you how striking you look, calling you his “dark angel.”

- While Kurt’s aesthetic might be different, he secretly loves trying out some gothic-inspired touches when he’s with you. Whether it’s a spiked bracelet, a dark cloak, or even dabbling with black nail polish (after much convincing), he’s open to stepping out of his usual look to match your vibe, finding it fun and endearing to share in your aesthetic.

- Kurt is deeply respectful of your style, and he’s fascinated by the meaning behind the gothic elements you choose. He’ll eagerly ask about your jewelry, your makeup, or why you love dark colors. He listens intently to your answers, often seeing your look as a form of art and self-expression. He sees beauty in everything you do, and that extends deeply to your appearance.

- When you’re both out together, Kurt keeps an arm protectively around you, teleporting you out of crowds if he senses anyone staring too much. He knows how judgmental people can be, and he wants you to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. He’ll often take you on night-time adventures, leaping across rooftops with you in his arms, knowing you’ll love the thrill of the city under moonlight.

- Kurt loves your aesthetic so much that he’s inspired to draw you. When he has free time, you’ll catch him sketching in his notebook, creating little drawings of you in various gothic outfits. He never tells you about it until you find his sketches by accident, blushing furiously when you compliment his work. He’d say shyly, “Vhy wouldn’t I vish to capture such beauty?”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott’s first reaction to your gothic style is one of quiet fascination. As someone who’s usually by the book, he’s intrigued by how unapologetically yourself you are. He’s not exactly one for bold fashion statements, but he admires your confidence and individuality, often finding himself silently captivated by your unique look. He might not say it often, but his lingering glances are unmistakable.

- Scott quickly becomes a bit protective when you’re out in public, especially if people stare or make comments. He’s the type to subtly position himself between you and any potential gawkers, his arm hovering near yours in a quiet but firm show of solidarity. He respects your aesthetic completely, and he doesn’t tolerate any negativity directed your way.

- While Scott may not share your love for gothic fashion, he’ll still make an effort to understand it. He’s the type to do his research and might even surprise you with knowledge about gothic subculture, books, or art. He takes your interests seriously and often engages in thoughtful conversations, eager to understand the things you’re passionate about.

- Although Scott isn’t one for grand gestures, he’s deeply supportive in his own quiet way. He’ll surprise you with thoughtful little gifts—perhaps a book by a gothic author you admire or a vintage item he thinks would suit your style. His love language might be subtle, but he’s always thinking of ways to show his appreciation for the things that make you unique.

- Behind closed doors, Scott’s admiration for your gothic look becomes a little more apparent. He’s endlessly fascinated by the contrast between his own controlled, structured personality and your bold, mysterious beauty. He’ll sometimes run his fingers through your hair, admiring the way it frames your face, and he’ll tell you in his own reserved way just how much he’s in awe of you.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean is fascinated by your gothic style and sees it as a beautiful, creative way to express yourself. She finds herself admiring the little details in your attire, the dark layers, intricate jewelry, and the way it all complements your personality. Her curiosity often leads her to ask about your fashion choices, eager to understand what each piece means to you.

- Being empathetic and open-minded, Jean appreciates how you embrace a style that isn’t necessarily “mainstream.” She’ll often compliment you, giving you a gentle smile and reminding you that she loves your unique style. She finds it refreshingly bold and admires how it reflects your inner strength and individuality. Jean occasionally likes to join you in trying out darker makeup or accessories to match your aesthetic, finding the experience fun and bonding.

- Jean’s powers make her sensitive to people’s thoughts, and she’s hyper-aware of the judgmental looks or whispers when you’re both out in public. She’s quick to reassure you telepathically, sending you warm, encouraging thoughts if she senses any discomfort from you. Her presence always feels like a supportive, silent reminder that she’s by your side, and she has a way of making you feel completely understood.

- Sometimes, she’ll surprise you with little gifts that fit your gothic style—a delicate black pendant she found, a book of poetry she thinks you’ll love, or a flower carefully chosen to match your look. Jean’s attentiveness shows in every thoughtful gesture, and she genuinely enjoys finding ways to make you feel cherished and accepted.

- Jean often finds herself captivated by the way your gothic aesthetic contrasts with her own. In private moments, she’ll softly tell you how beautiful and mysterious you look, her gaze filled with admiration. She’ll gently brush a strand of hair from your face, whispering about how she feels lucky to be with someone as unique and bold as you.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue adores your gothic style and finds it incredibly cool. She’s all about breaking the mold, so seeing you embrace a bold, dark aesthetic instantly impresses her. She’s the type to playfully nudge you and say, “You look killer, sugah,” whenever you put together a particularly striking look, and she often asks for style tips to incorporate some gothic elements into her own outfits.

- She loves joining you in shopping trips for gothic clothes and accessories. Rogue has a thing for statement pieces herself, so she’s always on the lookout for something edgy that could match both of your styles. She’s especially drawn to things like dark leather jackets, silver rings, and anything that screams “rebellious”—finding it exciting to shop with someone who has a taste for the unconventional.

- Rogue has a protective streak and won’t stand for anyone disrespecting you or making you feel out of place. If someone stares too long or makes a comment, Rogue has no problem giving them a sharp, intimidating glare. She’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself, and she’ll always make sure you feel comfortable and safe being yourself around her.

- Your gothic look and overall vibe sometimes make her feel a bit soft around you, and she loves that. Rogue admires your confidence and how you carry yourself, and she’s grateful for the quiet strength she feels from being with you. Sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, she’ll sit close and tell you how she feels like she’s found a kindred spirit in you—someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.

- In private, Rogue is endlessly affectionate and attentive. She loves taking in all the little details, like how you accessorize or the particular makeup you wear. She’ll sometimes brush her gloved hand across your cheek, marveling at how stunning you look and making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. With you, she can be her true, unfiltered self, and she’s grateful for that.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is immediately intrigued by your gothic aesthetic. He’s a person of elegance and sophistication, but he appreciates when someone dares to be different. He’ll often give you a thoughtful once-over, his piercing gaze lingering on you in silent admiration. Though he doesn’t say much at first, he finds himself fascinated by your unique look and style.

- Erik’s keen intellect often leads him to inquire about the historical roots of the gothic subculture, and he listens intently as you explain its influences. He sees a lot of strength in your choice to embrace a bold, non-conformist style and has a profound respect for your commitment to your aesthetic. He’ll occasionally surprise you with antique jewelry or rare finds that match your taste, finding a sort of thrill in choosing gifts you’ll treasure.

- When you’re out together, Erik is a silent but powerful presence, always by your side and subtly protective. Anyone who dares look down on you or make a judgmental comment will quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his steely glare. He values self-expression and has no patience for those who would try to undermine yours, making it very clear that he respects you fully and will tolerate no less from others.

- He has a refined appreciation for your style, often drawing parallels between it and his own preference for timeless, dignified looks. In private, he’ll run a hand over a piece of your jewelry or trace his fingers along the intricate details of your clothes, remarking in a low voice about how well it all suits you. He finds your appearance mesmerizing and genuinely enjoys the aura of mystery you bring with you.

- Erik doesn’t often show vulnerability, but with you, he finds himself at ease. He admires how your gothic style reflects resilience, a quality he holds dear, and he sees in you a kindred spirit—a reminder of strength in individuality. When it’s just the two of you, he’ll quietly express how he feels lucky to have found someone who embraces the world with such fierce independence.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby is absolutely fascinated by your gothic style. As someone who’s always been a bit playful and lighthearted, he finds your dark, brooding aesthetic to be thrillingly different from anything he’s used to. He’ll often tease you affectionately, calling you his “goth queen” or “dark angel” in that playful way only he can pull off, genuinely admiring your commitment to the look.

- He’s endlessly curious about your fashion choices and will often ask questions about the different elements of your style, from the jewelry to the makeup. Bobby isn’t afraid to experiment either—sometimes you’ll catch him jokingly trying on your rings or attempting your dark eyeliner just for laughs. He loves getting you to crack a smile, even if it means looking a little ridiculous himself.

- Bobby is all about hyping you up in public. He finds your look incredibly cool and will proudly show you off whenever you’re together. If people give you weird looks, he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder and declare, “Yeah, that’s my goth babe—jealous?” His lighthearted energy brings a fun dynamic to your relationship, making you feel completely accepted for who you are.

- Despite his own upbeat personality, Bobby finds your gothic aesthetic deeply captivating. He’s fascinated by how well it reflects your personality, and he often jokes about being “entranced” by your dark, mysterious look. Sometimes, he’ll even ask if you could show him a bit more about the gothic subculture, genuinely interested in learning about something that means so much to you.

- In quiet moments, Bobby is surprisingly thoughtful, admiring your makeup or your choice of accessories in a way that’s tender and sincere. He’ll tell you that you look amazing and that he’s lucky to have someone so unique and bold by his side. Beneath all his jokes, there’s a deep respect for your individuality, and he genuinely loves how your gothic aesthetic adds a layer of mystery and allure to your relationship.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda is deeply drawn to your gothic aesthetic and feels an immediate kinship with you. She’s familiar with the feeling of being different, of standing apart, so she instantly understands your choice to embrace a darker look. She loves how your style is unapologetically you and finds comfort in how it resonates with the magic and mystery she herself embodies.

- Wanda is genuinely captivated by the intricacies of your look. She’ll admire the subtle details—maybe a delicate, ornate ring or a shadowed makeup look that speaks to your artistry. Sometimes she’ll playfully use her magic to make a small dark aura shimmer around you, a soft, enchanted touch to match your aesthetic. It’s her way of embracing your uniqueness and showing that she appreciates every part of you.

- When you’re both out together, she’s proud to be seen by your side. If people stare or pass judgment, Wanda doesn’t let it affect her. She’ll take your hand and give you a knowing smile, her quiet confidence making you feel fully accepted. Her serene presence has a calming effect, and you know you’re safe with her, free to be yourself without any need to explain or justify.

- Wanda loves sharing her own story with you, talking about the darker aspects of her past and the magic that’s sometimes misunderstood by others. She feels like you understand her struggles and admires how your gothic style speaks to resilience and defiance. Sometimes, she’ll create small magical gifts for you—a necklace that glows faintly with enchantment or a rose that never wilts, gestures to show her affection and appreciation for who you are.

- In private, she’s incredibly gentle and open, drawn to how your darker style balances her sometimes chaotic world. Wanda will often express how much she cherishes you, how your individuality and strength help her feel more grounded. She finds comfort in your presence, and there’s a deep, almost otherworldly bond that connects you both, as if she’s found a piece of herself in you.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro is absolutely fascinated by your gothic look and finds it incredibly cool. He’s the type to whistle and tease you, calling you his “gothic queen” or “dark angel” with a big, proud grin. Your style is so different from his fast-paced, casual vibe, and he loves how it sets you apart from everyone else he knows.

- He loves showing you off and finds joy in watching other people’s reactions when they see you two together. Pietro has a protective streak, so if anyone gives you a weird look or mutters a snide comment, he’s quick to shut them down with a snappy comeback. He’s proud of your unique style and makes it known that he wouldn’t want you any other way.

- Pietro’s energy is a fun contrast to your aesthetic, and he often makes it his mission to get you to crack a smile. Whether it’s by jokingly trying on your dark lipstick or attempting your makeup style (usually ending up with eyeliner everywhere), he’s always trying to bring some lightheartedness into your day. He loves that your seriousness balances him out, and he always feels like his life is a bit more exciting with you in it.

- He’s incredibly curious about all things gothic and will often ask questions about your music, style, or favorite bands. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you by blasting one of your favorite gothic rock songs while you’re together, just to show he’s been paying attention. He’s always eager to learn more about what makes you tick and is genuinely interested in understanding the darker elements of your personality.

- In quieter moments, Pietro will tell you how lucky he feels to be with someone who’s so unapologetically themselves. He’s a bit of a show-off, but around you, he’s sincere, openly admiring the depth you bring to his life. He loves the contrast between your mysterious vibe and his vibrant personality, and he feels like you’re his perfect opposite, bringing balance to his world.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura’s first reaction to your gothic style is quiet fascination. She’s not one to comment much on appearances, but she admires how self-assured you seem with your unique look. She respects individuality, and your dark aesthetic quickly becomes something she associates with strength and resilience—a reminder that you’re someone who can stand out and face the world on your own terms.

- She’s very protective of you, especially if you’re out together and encounter anyone who looks down on your style. Laura doesn’t tolerate any disrespect, and if she senses anyone judging you, they’ll get a deadly glare. Your relationship with Laura is based on mutual respect, and she’ll go out of her way to make sure you’re never made to feel lesser because of how you look.

- Laura isn’t one for big gestures, but she shows her affection in small, meaningful ways. If she notices a new accessory or makeup look, she’ll give you a subtle nod of approval or say, “You look nice.” It’s her way of showing that she notices the little things and that she values the care you put into your style. Occasionally, she’ll even ask for your input if she wants to try something different with her look, trusting your judgment.

- Sometimes, Laura’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she’ll sit with you to ask questions about the gothic subculture. She respects that there’s a deeper meaning behind your aesthetic, and learning about your interests helps her feel closer to you. She listens intently, taking in every word with her characteristic seriousness, and it’s clear she appreciates the passion you have for your style.

- When it’s just the two of you, Laura lets her guard down and shows a softer side, often complimenting you in her own way. She’ll tell you that you’re “different from anyone else,” and coming from her, it’s the highest praise. With Laura, you know you’re accepted fully, and she values the unique presence you bring to her life, finding comfort and strength in the dark beauty that defines you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade is absolutely thrilled by your gothic style and finds it ridiculously cool. He’s the type to immediately start calling you his “dark and mysterious love,” and he’s not shy about showing you off. He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere, proudly bragging to anyone who’ll listen about how awesome you look. He loves that your aesthetic stands out and often tries to “match” you in his own chaotic way.

- Being Wade, he’s constantly trying to make you laugh, especially since your serious demeanor intrigues him. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, and make exaggerated compliments about how you’re his “queen of darkness.” He’s always trying to get a smile out of you, relishing the challenge of breaking through your stoic exterior, and finds it endlessly amusing when he actually succeeds.

- Wade also loves dressing up to match your gothic look on occasion, though his interpretations are… creative. He’ll try on dark makeup or leather jackets and end up looking like a rock star from the 80s. Despite how outlandish he looks, his attempts are always genuine, and he adores the way your aesthetic complements his unpredictable personality.

- Wade is surprisingly sensitive to how the world judges appearances and takes it personally if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself and will launch into a full-fledged speech about how amazing you are, shutting down any naysayers with his trademark over-the-top theatrics. With Wade, you know you’ll always be celebrated for exactly who you are.

- In private, Wade will tell you how he admires the confidence and mystery you carry with your style. Beneath his antics, there’s a genuine admiration for your strength and individuality. He’ll hold your hand, make eye contact, and tell you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, adding with a smirk, “Even if you look like you might summon a demon any second.” It’s his way of saying he’s completely smitten, and he loves you just as you are.

[shabre-legacy]

For the kiss prompts: 46 for Tyrenic/Jemsyn and/or 23 for Leikael/Corso

So I borrowed Jemsyn to write this for the prompt. I'll do a post for the Leikael and Corso one after I finish it. For now, enjoy Tyrenic/Jemsyn. If I wrote him ooc please let me know and I'll fix

Tyrenic leans on the arm of his target, a tall Weequay currently ordering another round in the dark club. It wasn’t a high end place, but the kind of fancy that still allowed the sleazy and criminal customers among their clientele. Various dancers were scattered around the room, in lifted cages, on platforms and scattered across the floor.

Tyrenic himself is a lightly dressed as any of them. A pink fishnet crop top that’s almost too small and a tiny pair of leather minishorts that clung to the curve of his ass and finished off with a pair of pink and black stilleto heels, tall under the toe as well as the heel. It made him just a couple inches shorter than the seven foot tall at least Weequay.

He had his eyes made up with glitter shadow, mascara, and heavy eyeliner giving him a perpetually hooded eye expression and a gloss that made his lips look plumper and more kissable then usual. He looked cheap, blowjobs for a pat on the head and a puff of a deathstick cheap; which was exactly what he’d wanted when he walked into the club. It hadn’t taken long for him to convince everyone that he was a new dancer, and even less time when he located his target to convince the man to ‘buy’ him for the night. He feels exposed like this, like everyone is staring at him and not for the usual reasons. It’s exciting, but also makes him nervous. He’s glad he brought Shelerik in as backup. Knowing the other Jedi is in the crowd, playing at being just another patron, but keeping an eye on him is reliving. Nothing that bad can happen, at least not anything he doesn’t have to go along with to maintain his cover. This was important enough to withstand some uncomfortable moments, or a lot of them, with this guy.

He carefully keeps any trace of discomfort off his face as his ‘date’ downs another shot and yanks him in, one hand dropping down to grope Tyrenic’s ass, the other holding his neck possessively as he kisses him, it’s sloppy, with too much tongue and a bit gross, but he goes along with it. Placing a hand on the Weequay’s chest and arching into him, he’s being paid for this after all. It takes a few minutes before the man decides he’s had enough for now and hands their drinks to Tyrenic and starts to guide him towards the dark back corners by the hips. As they make their way through the crowd, some of the other customers jostle them, the target shoved away a moment as a tall Mirialan is shoved into Tyrenic’s shoulder, almost knocking him off his heels. The man catches him around the waist and pulls him upright again, using the moment to drop his head and whisper “Your soldier’s here. Alcove down the hall past the bathrooms.”

Tyrenic just drops his head back letting a simpering smile fall over his face as the target moves back to him. “I appreciate the catch handsome, but unfortunately, I’m all booked for tonight. I’ll be around tomorrow if you’re still interested. I promise it’s a good time.” He half turns to look at the Weequay with hooded eyes. “So which one’s our table again?” He waits until they get there and he sets the drinks down and his target sits before bending over to whisper in his ear. “I’ll be right back and we can start this private party.” The man glares, but Tyrenic dispels it with a nudge from the Force and a wink. “Fresher.”

He makes sure to swing his hips more than necessary as he struts through the crowd, slipping into the hall and making his way to the alcove. He hadn’t had time to let Jemsyn know he was on planet, or going undercover, let alone what type of undercover work he was doing.

The Mirialan Mandalorian is pacing across the small alcove as Tyrenic quietly steps inside. He turns quickly and steps close, grabbing onto Tyrenic’s forearms and looking in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Tyrenic looks down at him, the heels emphasizing the height difference, a flirty grin on his lips. “No baby, I’m fine. It’s all fine.”

Jemsyn relaxes a bit, only for the concern to be replaced with a restrained anger. “Ok good. Tell me what the kriff that was? I come in for a night out and I find my boyfriend, making out with some random guy who’s got his hands all over you!” He steps back, folding his arms and staring Tyrenic down.

Tyrenic takes advantage of the height difference to lean over Jemsyn, resting his arm on the wall. “Don’t worry love.” He drops his head till he can whisper into Jemsyn’s ear. “I’m undercover, that man is part of a network grabbing alien refugees from Coruscant and other core worlds and selling them to the empire. We got the info on our way back and didn’t have time to contact you or anyone else before we had to jump into action. He’s got specific tastes and I fit the bill best.”

Jemsyn didn’t look convinced. “And that involves making out with him how? Couldn’t you go in as a buyer or potential business contact?”

Tyrenic sighs. “Wish we could love. But he never meets with contacts he doesn’t know without an introduction and we don’t have time to get one. But he pays a dancer almost every time he comes to a club and the drinks make him chatty. I let him kiss and grope a little, keep him talking, as soon as I get what I need, I signal Shelerik, he steps in and makes the arrest and we use the information to shut down the network.”

Jemsyn nods slowly as he absorbs what was said. “I still don’t like it, but I understand. Try to give me some warning next time you have to do something like this.”

Tyrenic nods before dropping his head to kiss and nip at Jemsyn’s neck. “I promise I’ll make it up to you later. How does a private dance in one of those lounges sound?”

Jem looks up at him with a familiar heat in his eyes. “That sounds wonderful cyare.” He deliberately looks Tyrenic up and down slowly. “I have to say, I like this look.”

Renic preens at the praise. “Glad you approve. I haven’t worn some of this since I was like 16.”

“You are very pretty and I love the way these shorts just cling. Stars you are pretty, all dolled up slutty like this.”

Tyrenic drops his head and his voice, husky and sensual, dripping in promises. “Give me another hour or so to finish up and I’ll be your personal slut for the rest of the night.”

Jemsyn seems conflicted, excited by the idea but not happy about Tyrenic going back to that Weequay. “I’ll hold you to that, but first…” He grabs Tyrenic and twists quickly, slamming the taller Jedi against the wall and stepping between his legs. He leans up at the same time he pulls Tyrenic down and kisses him. It’s desperate and devouring and perfect, Jemsyn pours all of his jealously into the kiss, making sure Tyrenic remembers exactly who he belongs to.

Tyrenic moans wantonly into the kiss, dropping his arms around Jemsyn’s neck and kissing back just as fiercely. His tongue tangles with his lovers as time stops around them. Eventually they are forced to break the kiss to breathe, only for Jemsyn to immediately attach himself to Tyrenic’s neck seemingly intent on leaving hickey’s for Tyrenic to walk out with. Tyrenic uses the last bit of his mental fortitude and will to drag himself up and out of reach. “Later love, after I’m done, you can leave all the marks you like.” He leans down and captures Jemsyn’s lips in another deep kiss before he pushes against the wall and slips out of Jemsyn’s arms. He turns and winks as he waltzes away, his hip swaying in his heels. He couldn’t wait to get this done and finally be able to put on a real show for the person who actually mattered.

[cevansbrat0007]

Easy, Baby

Summary: Ari just wants to do his part to help you relax.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Fingering, Bubble Baths, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This random bit of Ari goodness is dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner, @blogbog710, and @writer84. As well as anyone else who could use some love after a long day. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Hello..?” You push open the partially cracked door to your bathroom. “Ari, are you in here?” Clad in only a pink satin robe – a gift that had been waiting for you on the table when you’d gotten home – you take a tentative step inside.

Only to stop short when you’re greeted by the sight of candles strewn about the dimly lit room. For a moment you stand in the doorway, content to watch the flames dance as they cast intimate shadows along the walls.

“Welcome home, Bird.” Your man smiles at you from his perch on the edge of the tub. He dips a finger in the water, testing the temperature. “I see you found your gift. How’s the fit?” Satisfied that it’s to his liking, he turns off the faucet to give you his full attention.

“It’s…it’s great. Gorgeous, actually” You respond, absently toying with the garment’s belt. “But what’s all this?”    

“Just a little something to help you relax.” Ari simply shrugs before motioning for you to do a little twirl, which you do. He groans low in his throat when he gets a good look at your ass. “You said you had a long day. Which may or may not have come at the end of an even longer week. So I thought that…” 

He trails off before rising to his feet to bridge the distance between you in three long strides. Using two fingers he tilts your chin so that you’re gazing into his eyes. You don’t need him to tell you that you looked tired, not when the exhaustion you felt was written so plainly all over your face. 

 “I just thought that we’d see to it that you got a good night’s sleep.” Ari leans in to gently brush his lips over yours. It’s not quite a tease, but nonetheless, you find yourself offering up your willing mouth for more. 

Right now you wanted everything that your thoughtful Beast was willing to offer. Plus a little extra.

“I’m okay. But I could use more kisses though.” Standing on your tiptoes you go to nip at his jaw, relishing the deep growl that rumbles in his chest. “Now, please.” 

Instead of giving in like you expect him to, Ari pulls away – eliciting a whine from you before you can stop it. You’re just about to tell him that you’re willing to forgo sleep in favor of satisfying another, much more primal, urge when his hands suddenly begin undoing the haphazardly tied knot on your robe. 

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re not in charge right now.” A wolfish grin slowly spreads across his handsome features as he slides the garment off your shoulders, content to let it fall to the floor at your feet.  

“But –” Granted, he rarely ever let you be in charge. But still… 

“Hush.” His tone, while soft, brooks no room for argument. “Now, let’s get you into the bath while the water’s still warm.” Picking up your now nude body, he carries you to the tub before gently lowering you down into the heated depths.

It was your favorite feature – this custom built fixture that was big enough to accommodate both you and your mountain of a boyfriend. 

You can’t help but sigh in bliss as the water envelopes you, acting as a soothing balm for your weary muscles. “You coming?” Your eyes slowly droop as Ari makes quick work of stripping off his clothes, tossing his black sweats into a random corner of the room. 

“Now, I’d have to be awfully stupid to refuse an offer like that.” 

Less than a moment later, your man helps you sit up so that he can join you. Water sloshes this way and that, threatening to spill over the edge out of the tub as he gets settled. And then his thick arms wrap themselves around your middle, tugging you close so that you’re resting against the broad expanse of his chest. 

“Comfortable?” Ari’s large, slightly roughened hands go to massage away any residual tenseness in your shoulders. He presses a sweet kiss against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way you shiver at his touch.  

“Very.” Your head falls to the side to grant him greater access to your throat. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, letting his teeth graze over your thrumming pulse. His chestnut brown locks tickle your skin as he continues to lavish you with his own special brand of attention.

Some days you were so incredibly grateful to belong to this beautiful man. He always took such good care of you – worshiped you, even. Ari Levinson was the type who prided himself on loving his woman in all the ways she desperately needed to be loved.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning in that beautiful mind of yours, Bird.” Ari whispers a feverish litany of kisses down the back of your neck, emitting a low moan of pleasure as he does. “What’s going on up there?” 

Your man was starving for a taste of you. And he was becoming hungrier by the second. But before he took you in all the ways he’d spent the day fantasizing about, he was going to see to it that you were sufficiently relaxed. 

Right now nothing else in the world mattered. Not work. Not deadlines. Nothing. It was just you and Ari. The two of you, together against the world.   

“It – it’s not all that important. At least not really.” You tell him, lifting your arms out of the water to wind them around his neck from behind. “You’re what matters, honey.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Ari’s hands leaves your shoulders to dip between your breasts, his wandering fingers pausing briefly to pinch your nipple.

“Yes. What really fucking matters is that, after a terrible fucking day, I get to come home to you and…” An unexpected lump forms in your throat. “...We get to be together like this. I’m just so unbelievably grateful for that, you know?”

Ari hums in approval as he moves on, tracing a sensual path along your skin. His hand splays across your belly so that he can draw you closer to his body, letting you feel the physical proof of his unquenched desire. 

“You sure seem happy.” You muse, arching your back when you feel his eager fingers find their way below the water’s surface in search of new and exciting territory. A small whine escapes when he parts your sensitive folds to play with your aching clit. 

“Always am when I’m with you.” He rasps, his tone laced with satisfaction as your hips buck sharply, sending water sloshing over the side of the tub. “The way I see it, I’ve gotta do everything in my power to keep you in my home and in my bed. And if it means I have to subject myself to a little bubble bath every now and again to make sure you never think of leaving me, then so be it.”

You let out a snort before you can catch it. Sometimes your boyfriend was capable of conjuring up the most ridiculous scenarios, including the occasional one that had him convinced that he didn’t deserve you.      

Fucking bullshit if you’d ever heard it. Your handsome beast had clearly taken one too many blows to the head. 

“Ari…” You murmur, your voice filled with quiet amusement. “I think that for this to be a bubble bath there’d have to be, oh, I don’t know, some actual freaking bubbles. And you’d – ooh!” 

One sly finger enters you, slowly pumping in and out of your inviting heat. Ari then uses his free hand to lift your leg up and onto the edge of the bath, opening you up to his hedonistic assault. Soon a second digit joins the first, curling and twisting inside you as he works to find your spot.

That special spot he knew would have fireworks and magic dancing behind your eyes. 

“Now look here, woman.” He growls as he slowly increases his pace. “You’ve got a lot of pretty smelling, frilly shit to choose from in that closet. Any man could get overwhelmed, just like I did. So how about you do me a kindness and pretend we’re swimming in some bubbles, okay?” His teeth go back to nipping at your ear, playfully sucking the lobe into his warm mouth. 

“O–okay, Beast.” The soft mewl spills its way past your lips as the heel of his big palm begins to grind against your swollen bud. “Aww, fu–fuck! Ari!” Your hips move in time with his erotic ministrations as he pushes you higher and higher. 

You feel the coil in your belly tighten, pleasure steadily coursing through your veins. Meanwhile, your man’s hand remains on your thigh – holding you open for him. Forcing you to take everything he’s hellbent on giving you.

“Swear to God, you’ve got the tightest, sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” Ari’s sinful whisper has your eyes fluttering closed as your fingers reach up to tease your nipple, sending white-hot sparks shooting straight to your core. “Did you know that? Hmm?”

“Ungh!” You whine, your hips jerking in his hold as your man continues to play your body like you’re his favorite instrument. Your hand then cups your heavy breast, wantonly kneading the tempting weight as goosebumps breakout across your heated flesh.  

Fuck! This was too much!

You try to pull away as the sheer force of your pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “Aww. Don’t go runnin’ on me, Bird.” His grip on your thigh loosens so that he can once again wrap a muscled arm around your waist to keep you still. “Don’t run. Not unless you want your Beast to give chase.” 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Comes your breathless chant as he continues to stoke the flames of your passion. “God–fuck–Ari–pleeease!” You wail as your mind is robbed of all sense. 

You were so desperate for release. So fucking close you could practically taste your impending orgasm. And then your man picks that moment to slant his mouth over yours, catching a wild sob as it bubbles its way out of your chest. 

“Easy, baby.” Ari soothes, his tongue sweeping past your lips to dominate your mouth. “That’s it. Give me a good one.” He briefly pulls away to nibble his way along your jaw, teasing you to the brink. “Be sweet and show me you can do as you’re told.” 

“Oo–fuuuck!” You cry as you crest over the edge of hedonistic madness into bliss. More water spills out of the tub and onto the floor, but you’re beyond caring right now. 

Ari always made you want to be so good for him. He craved your submission the same way you craved his rewards. And he was never one to disappoint. 

He doesn’t stop, determined to push you even further. Your chest heaves as raw, unfiltered ecstasy makes your body sing. Ari’s heavy erection rests against your back, his cock twitching when notices the way your toes curl. It’s a deliciously carnal reminder of the exciting pleasures yet to come.          

Only when the haze begins to clear do you finally notice how cool the water has become. But Ari isn’t done with you, not by longshot. 

“That was a good one, Bird.” He leans forward to turn on the tap, all the while continuing to lazily pet and caress your still spasming cunt. “Bet it tasted even better.” You don’t respond, you’re brain too busy balancing your frenzied, buzzing nerves.  

“I’m going to heat things up. While we wait, how about we see if you can give me one more like I know you can, hm?” Ari whispers a kiss across your damp brow. It’s followed by a sensual brush of his fingers over your sensitive clit. 

“That way your Beast will know when you’re officially nice and relaxed.”

END

[kedsandtubesocks]

Your boyfriend is missing - but that shouldn’t be a cause for concern… right?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

wc: 5.6k

warnings & tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. dark elements. roleplay that can be read as yandere like behavior, heavy prey/predator, stalking, moment of home intrusion, fear & knife play, sexual allusions, a lot of licking and spit, finger sucking, themes of terror and fear, feral Gojo, aftercare, reader is called (doll, pretty, baby, angel) also everyone is alive & nothing hurts AU…if I missed anything please let me know

a/n: this is my second submission to Willow’s Haunted House Collab! To be honest…this is my first time writing content like this so I’m a little nervous about posting this piece so I appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy! Also big thank you to @willowser & @skeletoncowboys for being the best (and worst) little devils on my shoulder to get me to write this

You’re still surprised Shoko knows this many people. But then again a part of you isn’t.

The Halloween party fills every inch of her nice Tokyo apartment. The array of colored lights dance against the wild costumes and you wonder if you’ve slipped into a pocket of wonderland.

Taking a sip of your drink you also now curiously wonder if your faux blood sucking boyfriend has fallen down a rabbit hole himself.

The original plan was to go in matching couples outfits. But once your slightly erratic boyfriend spotted the dracula outfit at the costume store his grabby hands immediately snagged it.

“I’ll look hotter in this one. You understand right, angel?” Satoru triumphant grin said enough.

Begrudgingly, you did. And you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked.

White summer cloud hair slicked back, the realistic fake vampire fangs he wore, and even borrowing your eyeliner to add shadow like depth around his piercing baby blues -

He was the dream of every dark supernatural romance novel.

Now among the blaring music and excited chatter of the party your handsome vampire has slipped through your fingers.

Your feet are starting to ache and your soft bed is calling you home. So you decide to scan the crowd for him.

From your spot in the kitchen your attention flickers out to the thick of the party in the living room. You spot Haibara laughing so bright and looking adorable in his spooky scarecrow costume. Nanami stands beside him, simple devil horns on top of his head and a slightly amused grin coloring his distinguished features.

Geto, dressed in his rather impressive phantom of the opera costume, has been attracting a small crowd. He sits on the couch telling scary stories with the others around him. The look of both a composed storyteller and eager listener paints his handsome face even with the mask covering half his face.

Your eyes continue their search among the party.

Along the stretch of the wall lined with grand windows stands an ink blot like figure.

The apartment’s dim soft lighting mixes with the fun colorful lights strung up. Strange shadows fall among the space and at times you’ve caught it playing tricks on your eyes.

Except you clearly can focus on the striking presence across from you.

The stranger wears an all black cloak that makes them stick out against the windows.

And they wear a ghost face mask that completely obstructs any hope of discovering who this is.

The mask stares out so blankly and it’s a bit unnerving.

People chat unphased. A small group even starts an impromptu dance circle at the new upbeat pop song playing. Everyone exists unaware, or possibly uncaring, at the strange presence of the ghost face.

Yet this person stands so still. The mask also seems to be staring directly at you.

It could be someone needing a small break from the party the same way you lingered in the kitchen alone.

Then ghost face lifts a gloved finger up to the mask’s lips.

Shh…

A strange flutter you can’t fully describe rises in your gut. You simply brush off the action as someone being funny.

You now leave the kitchen to fully hunt for your missing boyfriend.

“Have you seen Gojo?” You ask around but the answers are all the same.

“Nope!” Haibara’s bright response comes with an unworried smile.

“No thank goodness,” the same answer comes from both Nanami and Utahime.

“Maybe he turned into a bat and flew away.” Geto, ever the teasing jokester, has you rolling your eyes.

Shoko jokingly even says “who?” when you ask her.

Now you think your boyfriend has decided to be childish and hide in the bathrooms or closet. Because who else would try to be funny and run away during a party but Gojo.

Shoko, with a carefree wave, grants you free range to explore her place.

You’ve been here plenty of times, but now with so many people in the space an annoyed edge bubbles in you. You want to go home. Now you’re having to peek around hoping to spot your ridiculous boyfriend. And there are no signs of him.

Annoyed and frustrated you snag your phone to simply message him.

[Where are you?!]

It takes a moment, but a message comes in from ‘My Bestest Most Handsome Boyfriend Ever.’

Said boyfriend simply replies with one lone emoji.

[🤫]

Another message rushes in. It again is nothing but emojis.

[🤭😘]

Simmering annoyance doubles, tempting to turn into frustration, and you rapidly message him back.

[Satoru I wanna go home and if you keep up this up I’m leaving you]

You’d call a ride or see if someone can take you back. You would leave him here.

A notification chime comes.

[let’s play a game baby 🤍]

[oh so me trying to find your ridiculous ass around Shoko’s apartment isn’t a game?]

[so rude!]

[but maybe it is 😜]

You call his phone. It goes straight to voicemail and you want to scream.

You angrily type out another message and hit send.

[fine whatever, you do whatever you want I’ll see you at home]

His reply rushes in surprisingly fast.

[head home angel, I’ll see you when I get there 🤍]

Now that sparks a strange curious peak in you.

But still so annoyed you angrily close your messages. You’re about to head out of the corner of the hallway you’ve been hanging out in.

So deep in your thoughts, you take one step and run into someone -

The ghost face stranger.

You thankfully don’t collide into him. However, your step falters seeing how close the person is to you.

The black robed body fully faces you, their back to the party, as they stand so direct.

“Oh, uh excuse me.” You mutter and avert your eyes worried as you slide past the stranger.

Not a sound comes, not even a reply. The chilling silence, the looming presence, the dark shadow blocking out the light, it feels like you’re trying to tiptoe past something dangerous.

Out of the hallway you check your phone again.

Still nothing from Gojo.

“Fine, stay here.” You huff out loud thinking maybe he’ll hear you.

A soft whisper of your boyfriend’s voice comes.

“…Baby…”

It cuts through the party even on the gentle breeze you heard it. Quickly you look around, but nothing. Still no sign of Satoru. You glance over your shoulder to check behind you.

Instead of being at the previous spot in the highway, ghost face now peers out from the edge of the hallway's entrance.

The plastic hollow mask continues staring so directly at you that a strange unsettled alarm twists your stomach.

It couldn’t be….

But then again…

You shake away curious and cloudy thoughts wanting to form. Turning on your heels you rush to Shoko’s side and announce you’re going to head out.

Nanami, like a true golden knight he should’ve dressed as, offers to drive you home. Haibara happily decides to tag along. Before you head out, a message alert rings from your phone.

[Come find me downstairs!]

You groan. Of course he managed to slip away from the apartment entirely.

“Sorry guys. I’ll meet you two down in the garage. I think I know where my idiot ran off too.” You sigh and thankfully Nanami understands with his saintly patience.

As you slip into the hallway, the noise of the party fades into a muted soft hum.

After navigating Shoko’s labyrinth-like apartment building you arrive at the main floor downstairs. And of course, your boyfriend again is nowhere to be found. In fact, the beautiful sleek modern lobby is vacant. Normally someone sits at the front desk that is currently empty. In the dark evening, the quiet lurks with an unsettling hollowness.

So you quickly message Gojo.

[where are you??]

No response.

You should’ve known this was going to happen.

The eerie silence, the lack of commotion in this normally occupied space, a strange anxiety swarms in your chest. It drains out the annoyance you had for your boyfriend because now, you just want to leave.

Not wanting to stay here anymore you simply head to the elevator and press the button for the garage.

Footsteps echo behind you and you turn.

Behind you is the ghost face stranger.

Standing so terrifyingly still a chill runs up your back as if you’re staring down an actual ghost, trying to process if this being is real or not. The hollowed out eyes, the deep morphed wide frown, all of it intensifies against the pristine lobby.

Then ghost face tilts their head. The small movement seems so innocent, curious even.

The elevator dings its arrival. Hesitantly you step into the lift while trying to keep your eyes on the stranger.

Once fully inside, a moment of pause comes. It again is just you and the mysterious figure staring at the other.

Suddenly, as if possessed, ghost face runs straight towards you.

Fear rips into you visceral and dizzying. You choke on a scream. Faster and faster he approaches. You shakily scramble to slam on the button to close the elevator doors.

The black robed stranger races closer.

The doors start closing. An arm outstretches hopeful to stop the elevator and terror sinks its fangs into you.

The doors however shut fast.

You’re left staring at the white masks unflinching. The doors fully shut and you watch ghost face disappear out of sight.

The elevator ride is quiet, but your loud heartbeat drums rapidly in your ears. The taste of fear in your mouth has you wondering if you unknowingly transformed into a small creature fleeing from a monster in the woods.

You exhale slowly trying to steady yourself.

The garage thankfully arrives quickly and Nanami and Haibara already wait for you there.

“Are you alright? You seem shaken up.” Nanami notices you with keen eyes.

“Yeah!” You lie as truthfully as you can, even summoning a smile to add to it. “Just feeling a little under the weather now. So I’m just ready to get home.”

That appeases Nanami and the three of you head out.

“So did you find where Gojo went!?”

“No.” You sigh, answering Haibara’s bright question.

“I’m sure he just got called away somewhere and forget to tell you!” He positively suggests.

“Or he’s just playing a trick on me thinking he’s being cute when he’s actually just being a headache.” Your dull annoyed comment has Nanami snorting amused and it warms you.

It helps as a chill air breathes into the dark evening. Softly, a distant rumble of thunder comes. A storm approaches. As you head up to the apartment you already happily think of cozy blankets to end the night.

“Satoru!” You call out.

Silence greets you. So much for meeting you at home.

You start the search again. The bathroom, the extra guest bedroom and even the guest bathroom are all once again Gojo-less. You even check underneath the bed and feel silly when you open up the laundry hamper thinking he could have squeezed himself in there as a prank.

But you realize you would’ve at least heard ridiculous giggling at this point. So, you give up.

Ready to turn in for the night you exhaustedly slip out of your costume and into cozier clothes.

You also decide to try calling your dumb boyfriend again. You left your phone charging in the kitchen and head back to grab it.

A flash of lightning comes, a bright surprise illumination dancing from the window. It draws your attention away for a split moment.

You turn and now before you the ghost face masked stranger stands in your kitchen.

Terror seizes you and you freeze in its grasp.

Ghost face’s presence in your warmly light kitchen reminds you of someone taking a sharpie and placing a solid swipe against a scenic painting. It is a terrifying distortion.

“Satoru.” You snap even though your voice wavers.

The masked stranger shakes their head.

No.

“Sorry doll,” You don’t recognize the voice replying to you. It’s deep warped and distorted. Plus your boyfriend never once called you that - doll.

“Don’t know who this Satoru guy is, but he’s lucky gettin’ to come home to you.” The deep and static like masculine voice purrs.

Your heart drops into your stomach

Now truly staring at the cloaked intruder, you realize how large ghost face is. His broad shoulders fill out the space and he radiates an imposing looming force.

Your eyes stay focused on him but you realize if you move fast, you could maybe reach your phone charging.

So you bolt with all your might.

But the masked man is faster.

In two rapid steps he stops you. With a gloved hand the stranger yanks you into his hold. A scream almost escapes you. But it’s knocked out when ghost face curls around you from behind.

A strong sturdy arm wraps itself across your chest.

“Now now doll,” the intruder tsks light. “And here I thought we could play a lil’ game.”

The gleam of the knife comes first from the corner of your eye. Then, the pointed tip starts running up the side of your body with a delicate leisure ease.

Your eyes go wide as the large kitchen knife effortlessly tracing up a path closer to you. It drags across your clothes, slow and unbothered in its pace.

“You know,” ghost face muses. “You really are a cute one.”

A twinkling glee leaks into the distorted voice.

“Let’s play that game I mentioned, yeah?” He continues.

Your throat goes dry as the knife now drags easily up your chest closer to your face.

“I’m a big fan of hide and seek.” The masked man purrs.

The solid arm that was across your chest now slides up allowing his gloved hand to softly curl around your neck. There is no pressure, just the simple chilling sensation of his presence against your skin. It’s a reminder that at any moment he could tighten his hand on your throat.

“You’re just so cute that I wanna chase ya and keep you forever.” His voice manages to drop deeper, entrenched in something dreadfully haunting.

“I’ll give you five minutes to go run and hide,” he whispers softer and deeper. The white plastic of the mask gingerly scrapes against your face. Your body coils a tense knot of emotions you can’t even seem to sort through.

“And then, I’ll go and find you.” His voice oozes out a rich low confidence.

Then cool metal presses against your cheek. Your eyes snap down and find a knife lying flat against your face. Your heart trips over in itself.

Confused panic now clashes with something dangerously dark you dare not name. It only worsens when a gloved thumb strokes your throat soft, reverently, and a heat licks up your body.

“Get to hidin’ doll… run.” Ghost face whispers.

Then he violently rips himself away from your body and like being unleashed from a cage you bolt.

You don’t even turn around to look at the masked man. Instead you dash further into the apartment.

Your first thought is to crawl under one of the beds. But your heart pounds so fast that any true proper thoughts get scrambled.

All you can think of is the closet, the large walk-in closet you share with Satoru.

Rapidly you rush inside it. You wonder if you should hide standing up along your boyfriend's large amount of tall clothes that could possibly hide you.

Until you spot it - a wonderful carved out space you can crouch in.

Once you wiggle your way in you try settling into the space. Breathing slowly in and out you try to gather yourself together. The length of Satoru’s clothes you hope will work as a cover or even a makeshift barrier to hide you.

Safe within the smell of the cologne lingering on your boyfriend’s clothes, you close your eyes to settle yourself down even more.

You sit in the silence. Tension crawls on your skin.

Time begins feeling sticky and the minutes seem to all glue together. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here or how long you will be.

Then heavy boots slowly march into the bedroom.

Your eyes snap open. The footsteps are leisurely, imposing. Your heart jolts hearing every step.

A slow dread that has been spilling into you like an hourglass now shatters as the footsteps draw closer to the door. Out of panic you can’t help but move your hands over your nose and mouth to keep quiet.

The door creaks open and your heart stops.

Your body tenses up at the sight of the black thick boats stomping into the closet.

Then the light of the closet flickers on illuminating the space.

“You in here, pretty?” the masked man calls out.

The air in the room evaporates as you stay as quiet as you can.

From the way his boots shuffle he seems to be glancing among the hanging clothes trying to find you in the space you thought of hiding in earlier.

A sigh comes from your masked intruder, soft and defeated almost.

He starts walking out of the closet. You rationalize that he must already be bored of trying to find you here. A small dosage of relief fills your body. Your eyes even shut close again as you exhale.

You take a moment to gather yourself in your sheltered space.

Simply breathing in and out, your hands stay against your face to keep you quiet.

Wearily you open your eyes.

Ghost face now kneels before you and peeks at you through the dangling clothes.

You’re thankful your hands still clutch over your face because you let out a small squeak of a scream.

His gloved waves at you gently and teasingly.

Before you can move, before you can even stand up, firm hands dart out. Ghost face grabs your ankle and drags you out of your little hidden cave.

Your body slides out with such ease, without any hesitation. You can’t even process how fast it happens. All you can do is stare up at the looming man above you staring down with the hollowed out soulless eyes.

His entire frame, large and imposing, blocks most of the light from the closet. It bathes him in a hauntingly eerie superposition of a black stain against a sun.

“Hi there doll,” He coo’s. “Knew you couldn’t escape from me.”

His gloved hand reaches out and holds your face firm.

The knife’s sharp edge drags up your body, a slow and casual pace. Your heart crawls into your throat as you lie beneath the power of this haunting force.

It’s simply you and him.

And then the ghost face mask man suddenly giggles.

It’s a playful giggle you know so well that not even the voice distortion can hide it.

It’s the one you hear whenever you trip over your own shoes, or when your boyfriend happily steals your fries…

“Satoru.” You breathe out steadier than you expected. A range of emotions tingles all over your body.

“No.” The voice replies but there's a twinkle in the tone now. “It’s me…scary ghost face man!”

“Satoru.” You repeat firmer.

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend? He sounds hot.”

You roll your eyes and are about to sit up when ghost face instead sits back releasing his firm grip on you.

The hand previously on your face moves to the mask and lifts it up.

Even before the rest of his face is revealed you spy the widest toothy smile ever. The mask completely slides up and now shining blue skies stare at you.

The eyeliner he put on earlier for his vampire costume is now a smudged mess from the heat of the mask. It paints him in a grunge like appearance that unfortunately for you looks devilishly hot on him

Still, you can’t help but pout at him.

“You should’ve set a timer. I don’t think you waited a full five minutes to let me hide.” You challenge as you start taking off his gloves.

“Yes I did! I even went and took a few selfies on your phone to let the time run!” Satoru challenges back pouting.

Of course he took pictures.

You can’t help but snort. However as you slide off the thick black gloves, your eyes gloss over a bit. The high, the adrenaline, the fantasy, is fizzling away.

Before you can even say anything, Gojo cries a dramatic sob. He flops down to lie completely on top of you.

“Satoru!” You wheeze as he clutches onto you like a childish koala.

Dramatically loud, Satoru wails your name. He rubs his sweaty face against yours. Yet, his bare hands hold you so delicate.

“Are you okay?” Your boyfriend gently asks genuine, low and cautious as if someone else can hear him.

You nod on an exhale. Your body strangely enough feels comforted with the weight of your protector against you.

Your face turns to burrow against his. The scent of his skin, the soft warmth he constantly radiates, all become a lifeline guiding you back.

The sensation running through your body reminds you of walking out of a haunted house attraction or even finishing an intense scary film. Those types of experiences become a way of facing terror as something fleeting, giving you a moment of fear without truly being in actual danger. It’s why you had even jokingly suggested this play in the first place.

Satoru and you had been costume shopping when he first tried to jump out and scare you. Instead he wore a ridiculous deformed bunny mask.

You simply stared at him bored and told him how ridiculous he looked.

“Aw! Where's your Halloween spirit babe?!” He cried.

You shrugged then went back to glancing at the adorable witch costumes.

“Maybe if it was another mask I saw you chasing me in I’d get scared.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice dipped in an intrigued low purr. “You want me to chase you around?”

“Satoru!” You had hissed in embarrassment and even swatted at him.

Gojo leaned down closer making sure nobody heard him as he whispered to you.

“It’s okay, angel. I kinda wanna chase you around too.”

The true serious conversation that occurred at home after that shopping trip led to this exact moment and you still can’t believe it.

Earlier in the week Satoru had coyly suggested wearing the ghost face costume instead of his vampire one. You had playfully shrugged and didn’t think he was serious.

But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised at anything your boyfriend does any more.

“I still can’t believe you managed to change at the party without me even knowing.” You comment.

“Oh that was easy! I just used Shoko’s private bathroom. I even told her to play along if you came looking for me. She also called us sexy freaks.” Gojo happily chirps, a bit proud, and your face heats up so fast you want to claw it off.

You could never look at Shoko again for the rest of your life, but you would manage.

Satoru shifts now to slide you better into his arms as he maneuvers to rest on the floor beside you.

You and him clutch each other warm and tight.

“As fun and hot as this was…I don’t like seeing you look genuinely scared.” He mutters softly against your forehead.

“You had been doing so good and looked so brave. I felt proud. But when I got you in here, you really did look so spooked.” Gojo continues. His voice trails into a soft tone you’ve learned is reserved only for you.

You had been scared, got caught up in the atmosphere.

“You just did your job a little too well.” You joke with a dry chuckle.

“Obviously.” Gojo scoffs. “Did you expect anything less?”

He really is a terror in his own way and you playfully pinch his side.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get too scary. If you did, I would've had to call my strong sorcerer boyfriend to beat you up.” You tease.

“Oh? Your strong sorcerer boyfriend? Are you sure he isn’t the strongest?” Gojo muses bright.

“Not really.” You grin.

He scoffs.

“You might as well have just taken the knife and stabbed me with it because your words have injured me!”

“Heal yourself then mister strongest sorcerer .” You deadpan.

Playfully Gojo lightly bites your cheek.

“But are you okay… Really?” His tone holds a tenderness and undertone of worry.

“I am, I promise.” You squeeze him firm and tight, even begin rubbing your hand against his shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask firmer now.

Gojo nods, snuggling his face closer to you.

There on the floor, you and Satoru decompress. You find it comforting. After such a high adrenaline play, simply resting with him on the floor feels as if you are easing back into your skin. It’s the solidity of reality settling.

“Wait, how did you manage to change your voice?” You perk up curious.

Satoru happily whips out a simple handheld voice changer.

“I wanted to go all out.” He proudly explains with a beaming grin.

“Please tell me you didn’t use a real knife, did you?”

“Of course not!” Gojo shrieks insulted. “I bought a real fancy prop one online when I ordered my fangs!”

For some reason the thought of him spending money on an expensive movie like type prop makes you almost squawk in horror.

Satoru even playfully stabs your side with the fake knife. The poke comes hard but does nothing and you swat at him annoyed now. He snickers gleefully, a devilish gremlin.

His large calloused hand slides up your face. It kicks you out of your thoughts and your attention flickers back to Satoru.

Your boyfriend stares down at you with an interesting gleam in his eyes. His oceanic eyes are like that of a hunter gazing at its prey with a collected composure trying not to jump and consume.

On top of his cloud hair the ghost face mask still sits.

Satoru Gojo leans above you a beautiful terror of a sight. The gleam from the closet’s light illuminates a faint halo-like glow around him. It also electrifies his bright blue eyes. The black kohl liner now even makes them stand out even more.

The dormant arousal that had simmered earlier now reawakens raw in your body as warmth trickles across your skin. Your eyes even haze over as they stare at his soft lips.

Before you can even say anything, Satoru sweeps down fast and low. A creature striking fast, he captures your lips with his.

His tongue without hesitation licks into your mouth with a devastating dizziness. You clutch onto him tight and desperate. He’s kissing you like you will fade away at any moment, or like he’s enjoying his reward.

His lips chase after yours so messily, sloppily and without any finesse. Teeth click and even spit seems to slip more and more around your mouth.

Suddenly he starts licking at the spit that’s coated your lips and corner of your cheek. He seems possessed as he simply licks at you without any care. Gojo slides his tongue down to your jaw and tastes the salt of your skin.

He nips and bites softly at every inch of you he can reach. You’re reminded of a beast trying to consume with a feral want. A prickling heat now scourches across your body.

Caught up in that same frenzy Satoru kisses down your body over your clothes until he reaches your shorts.

Wearily you open your eyes to glance down at him.

Between your legs is a sight that melts your brain. With his holy angelic eyes, electrified and blown out, along with the terrifying ghost face mask on his cloud head, Satoru is a blissful frightening sight.

He breathes out your name, a ghostly whisper.

Cerulean eyes are now bottomless oceans as he kisses your core over your shorts repeatedly. You whine breathless and desperate, wanting him closer. Glancing down, you see Satoru once more stares up at you with a devouring hunger that has your eyes closing overwhelmed.

He fucks you there in the closet. The taste of it is wild, a frantic claim.

You and him end up entangled with each other, sticky and exhausted still on the floor. The clothes hanging above create a soft canopy.

Satoru’s fingers run up your arm tender while you rest in his arms.

“Who knew the ghost face mask was gonna do that for us huh? Guess Shoko was right. This really means we’re really a pair of certified hot freaks now.”

You screech a horrified sound and want to pummel your annoying boyfriend.

“What!? This is hot as hell baby!” Gojo argues back proudly, almost smug, and it only makes you angrily wiggle away from him.

Of course he keeps you firmly captured in his strong hold and doesn’t budge an inch.

“What if we try this again but with another mask?” Satoru asks dreamily.

“You’re already a clown, you don’t need another mask.” You reply.

“BABY!?” He sobs out absolutely horrified and dramatically hurt. You laugh and curl tight against this stronghold of a man.

“You wound me! I absolutely for sure have internal bleeding right now!” He continues sobbing while he burrows his face against the top of your head.

Being on the floor for so long starts aching so you slowly sit up. Gentle warm hands begin rubbing your back while you stretch. Glancing around at all the discarded clothing littering the floor, you spot the ghost face mask. In the heat of the moment your fingers had carded through Satoru’s soft hair and the mask slipped off.

It so innocently yet hauntingly stares out with those vacant hollow void eyes. A strange urge crawls up your neck and sinks its fangs into you. Grabbing it you turn back to Satoru who stares up at you with a dreamy softness.

“Oh?” He catches the sight of the mask and sits up. His curiosity sparks awake playful and fast. “What do you have in mind?”

You softly shush him and gently slide the mask over him.

With it completely covering his face, knowing fully it’s him and not having to pretend, does break the illusion.

However, it cracks open something new that is dangerously raw and hungry.

Your thumb strokes the side of his face where the soft latex of the mask covers his cheek.

Leaning forward you kiss him over the mask. You taste the annoying synthetic fabric of the mask. Yet a wild heat comes when you feel his lips through the fabric. Satoru’s hands slowly run up to your shoulders to hold you as you kiss him through the fabric.

It ignites a delirious frustration that feels so good. His mouth desperately tries to feel you against the fabric that quickly starts to get wet.

Another raw idea flashes in your mind. Softly you pull away from his lips. You think of Gojo and how his tongue claimed you in a flurry.

So with a soft tentative kitten like attempt, you lick at his lips through the mask.

Something wild unleashes itself in Satoru. He rapidly sweeps you into his arms with his godly strength and simply lifts you up from the floor. His lips moan against yours.

“Keeping this on.” Gojo slurs as he rapidly moves you and him towards the bed.

You shake your head rapidly agreeing. The plush bed hits your back.

Above you, once again the ink stain presence of ghost face stares down at you. Your fingers do ache to run into his hair, across his delicious undercut. But those simple aches are crushed against the clear sight of your Satoru as ghost face. You vividly see Satoru’s broad shoulders, feel the touch of his bare hands caressing your thighs so intently.

“I caught you fair and square, my sweet little treat.” Now it’s his voice, unmodulated and clear as crystal, cooing triumphant underneath the mask.

“Now… I think I wanna unwrap you again.” Gojo whispers and it slices under your skin deliciously.

Beautiful debauched arousal rapidly consumes you as you claw at him wanting him closer.

“You like knowing it’s me under here, baby?” Satoru continues. His fingers begin kneading into your soft thighs, anchoring himself to your body.

His long fingers softly swipe into the slick arousal pooling between your legs and a whimper flutters out of you.

“Me too.” Gojo whispers, almost admitting with a quiet glee.

“I like knowing I'm under here getting to chase you, knowing I’ll always catch you and have you all to myself.”

Pulling his fingers out, they shine coated in your wetness. He slips them under the mask. Suddenly the sound of him sucking fills the room and your mind melts even more.

Satoru groans, drunk on pleasure. Even with the mask hiding his face it somehow heightens the moment and you claw at his arm firmer.

Taking the hint, Gojo slides fully between your legs to draw closer to you. He now takes the fingers in his mouth to slide them into yours.

Your eyes close and roll back. You suck on his wet fingers covered in his spit and the faint linger of your arousal. He begins grinding against you and you moan needed more of him all over again.

It's delicious and dark, this beautiful cobweb of desire you and Satoru are caught in.

“That’s it, angel. Let’s keep enjoying our fun little fright night, yeah?” Your ghost face lover purrs and as you sink into lust’s heavenly darkness, you find you couldn’t agree more.

[lipringlrh]

kiss you forever - lrh

summary: luke wants you to do his eyeliner for his show.

pairing: luke hemmings x genderneutral!reader

an: this won the poll thing i did so please lmk if you like it :)

word count: ~800

requested:

feedback appreciated!!

…

You had barely reached the venue and Luke was already pulling you into his dressing room. He was hurrying around everywhere, stressing over every little detail.

He wasn't usually this anxious but he was playing in Sydney tonight and wanted everything to be perfect. His family was here and you'd be joining them shortly, you just couldn't help seeing Luke beforehand.

You were dragged towards the mirror and watched as he sat down in the twisty chair. He moved the height down so your head was above his and then proceed to grab a few items off the counter. He held them in one hand, reaching the other out to grab yours and manoeuvre you into standing between his legs. His head was just below yours, looking up at you. He grabbed your other hand, wrapping it around a thin tube, before taking the lid off for you.

You stared at him blankly, waiting for him to give you some instructions. He sighed, wrapping his hands around the hand which held the tube, pulling it towards his face. "Need you to do my eyeliner, angel."

You just looked at him, tilting your head to the side, trying to calm him and tease him at the same time. He sighed and pressed a kiss to the side of your face, "pretty please."

You nodded smiling, before focusing on his eyes. He had a pretty shimmer plastered all over the lids, and multiple dots from where he had failed to take off the previous failed attempts at the eyeliner.

You grabbed the wetwipe packet from the counter, taking one out and folding it into a small square. You dabbed it at where you could see the marks, making sure to miss out the eyeshadow as much as possible.

When you finished, you picked up the eyeshadow palette, hoping to reapply the product you took off. "Which shade did you use, lu? S'really pretty."

He pointed towards the shimmer in the top left and moved to grab the brush he used, then refocused back at you. You're sure that was the first time he took his eyes off of you since you started.

You reapplied the shadow quickly but carefully, Luke struggling to keep his eyes closed for the few seconds you needed him to. His hands found your waist, grabbing you and moving you ever so slightly closer.

You finished, and moved closer to him letting Luke pass you the eyeliner again. "What look are you going for?"

"M'thinking maybe a small wing? Subtle but you can tell it's there." You smiled up nodding at him. You reached your hands up to cup his face, bringing it closer to yours.

You brought the pen up to his face, beginning the eyeliner. You dragged his face closer again, making sure there's no chance you screw up.

You finished and turned his head to either side, double checking your work then admiring it and Luke simultaneously.

You had yet to realise the close proximity of your faces but Luke had. It took everything in him to not kiss you in that moment. You were holding his head up in your palm and he couldn't think of anything that could make him melt more.

His cheeks were stained a deep red and his eyes were flicking all around your face, from your lips to your eyes and back again. You noticed this, then how close you were, and felt your breath get stuck in your throat. You eyes were pinned on his lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. You needed to speak; to say anything, yet Luke consumed all your thoughts.

"You look so pretty, Lu." You whispered as though it was a promise. Your thumb was moving against his cheek, brushing over his lips, sending butterflies into his stomach.

"S'all you lovie." He whispered back, so quiet you almost missed it. He leaned in closer to you, tilting his head and letting his lips meet yours. It was soft and sweet, making warmth overtake your whole body. His hands moved from on your waist to wrap you in a hug, letting you move to rest one of your legs over his in the chair. You couldn't help but grin into the kiss as your stomach erupted.

You pulled away, hoping the feeling would linger on your lips. Luke's cheeks were burning, "I could kiss you forever, you know." You giggled in response, pulling his jaw up to meet you in a kiss once again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly on his curls, letting you both get lost in the moment once more.

…

requests are open and feedback is appreciated!

[ask-the-pale-elf]

Tav had bought some box of makeup from a little shop,they touched the wooden box it had pretty delicate carvings on the borders and it had the faint scent of honey coming from it. The materials where clearly hight quality and looked luxurious, the old woman from the shop was an expert and chose a box of items that would compliment their skin tone and eyes, her eyes glinting with happiness, she clearly took pride on her trade.

They payed the 200 gold and thanked the shopkeeper and gently put the little box into a bag and wondered back into camp, trying their best to not be seen by anyone, slightly coy at their new purchase. and after not attracting much attention to themselves they changed into the cutes tclothes they had, and started to apply the makeup. most of it wasnt so difficult and they seemed pleased with it, but when they had to add the damned potted lipstick with the brush, they felt defeated as nothing looked right, when they heard someone standing quietly in front of their tent.

"Hello? who is it?" Tav triest their best to sound composed as they take off the lipstick with a damp cloth.

(Im sorry about my english lmao, I hope I didnt mess up too much)

Despite your best efforts to hide your latest purchase, Astarion's perceptive eyes landed on the makeup box you purchased earlier. His interest piqued when you immediately rushed into your tent, it would be oh so selfish of you to keep your find all to yourself. Astarion sought to remedy that.

He leaned his arm against the supporting beam of your tent and looked in, "Darling, I can't believe you kept this from me!"

His faux shock was emphasized by his hand being dramatically placed over his dead heart, "You bought all this makeup and didn't think to invite me? Shame on you!"

After revelling in the fake scandal, he made you scooch over and his nimble fingers hovered over your new collection. Then something else catches his eye, he sees you in your adorable little outfit and your attempts at applying the lipstick, "Oh darling... I. Am. Offended! That you didn't ask me for help. I am the expert on beauty within this camp after all, so.."

He gingerly plucked the potted lipstick from your hands and examined it, "Oh it's been a few decades since I've last used this but... I know exactly how to use this to make you absolutely gorgeous."

He gently pushed you down onto your back and loomed over you, "Don't get the wrong idea, I need a better angle for this. Now close your eyes~"

As you do as he says, you hear the gentle clinking of bottles and feel gentle brush strokes against your skin. If you try to crack one eye open, Astarion scolds you by bapping your eyelid with a dry brush.

The moment he gets off of you, you hear some shuffling within the tent. The moment the shuffling stops, a familiar voice brings you back, "I do hope you're not sleeping, my dear. Open your eyes."

The moment you sit up and open your eyes, you're met with yourself. Your lips delicately painted red, as if they were kissed by a rose. Your eyes accented by black eyeliner also, deepened by eye shadow that complimented your skin. It was subtle yet head turning.

With a mirror in hand facing you, Astarion preened at his latest creation, "I think I've outdone myself, now hold your applause-"

A moment passed and you could feel his impatience emanating through the air, "Don't wait too long, I do love a little appreciation for my work."

[angelshimaa]

✧·𝅄 ۟— mha masterlist :: bakugou katsuki

key :: ♡ fluff | ✧ angst | ༊ comfort

disclaimer :: spam liking doesn’t help at all, only increases shadow-ban possibility. please do not spam like— spam reblogging is appreciated <3

━━ shorter works

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the sidewalk rule ♡

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ties ✧

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[a-m-pyra]

First Burn: Ch11 Wole Wolta (American McGee's Alice/Lies of P)

Mr. Mitchell was especially pleased to be able to lend P one of his frock coats from his college days. P felt as if it gave him a huge, indescribable joy, especially when it turned out that it only needed to be shortened by a couple of inches and Mrs. Sharpe was happy to take care of it. 

P felt the tension and tried to relax it by stretching his fingers. He went without Gemini, without his guide and companion, whom he had with him from practically the very beginning.

He was supposed to go with Alice, and what he wanted to do today only made him tremble more. He fought puppets, Corpses, God himself — he was not afraid for a moment. Fighting was natural.

Feelings were something new, something scary that P was still learning — he didn't want the confession to scare her. He also didn't want to hurt her if it turned out that this was all just another one of his lies.

If he manages to get even a word out.

P, Gemini, Otto, and Mr. Mitchell were waiting on the first floor for both Mrs. Seymour and Alice. They stood by the stairs until they both appeared — luckily, they didn't have to wait long. Each of them was shocked by the unusual sight of Mrs. Seymour, who came down first.

Her usual red and black color gave way to purple and silver. P saw Mr. Mitchell's eyes well up with tears.

“So many years,” he whispered, his eyes moving over her.

“Thank Alice. She convinced me to make a small change.”

“Just like old times.” He wiped the corner of his eye. “Lilibeth would be happy.”

Mrs. Seymour laughed and hugged Mr. Mitchell tightly. After a while, Alice's voice rang out, asking if she could show herself now.

P's mouth parted when he saw her. He admired her beauty and how much it added to the dress she wore. His eyes appreciated her elegantly pinned hair, curled into tiny curls, and how warm purple eye shadow and black eyeliner complimented her gorgeous green eyes. How her tea rose lips curved into an uncertain smile.

“Is it friendship or love?” Otto said, but P didn't hear even a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Otto easily noticed the sparkle that lit up in their eyes when they looked at each other, felt the tension that suddenly developed between them, and, judging by the glances of Alex and Jacob, they felt the same.

“I'm going to lose my mind if nothing happens today,” he said to Gemini as he watched the four of them towards the door.

“I guess we can only hope that one of them will take the next step.”

Otto just nodded.

P felt a little cornered when he saw so many people heading towards them — all around Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell's age. There were endless hugs and kisses on the cheeks — and when he felt a little out of place, Alice smiled and giggled.

“I don't understand,” he whispered, and Alice looked at him. 

She wrapped her arm around his and pressed her cheek.

“Remember how I told you about the big party at the lord's banquet?” P nodded. “I'm guessing these are former teenagers who attended this party.”

Now it made sense. He looked around at all the people who were jumping around Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell and saw how happy Mrs. Seymour looked. Truly happy — in a way he had never seen her before. There was usually something behind Mrs. Seymour's joy, and now he understood it. A kind of bitterness. Despite her excellent sense of humor, her wide smile and her contagious laugh, there was something about her that was more bitter than distillate.

“You said on Mabon that Mrs. Seymour likes to take decisive measures.”

“Yes. That's what I said.”

“What did Mrs. Seymour do?”

The smile on Alice's face immediately faded. She pursed her lips slightly as she watched Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell begin to plot something.

“Even I don't know the whole truth. She never wanted to tell me what she really did.” She tightened her fingers on P's arm. “Weird, unexplainable things had been happening for several weeks prior to my own investigation, when I returned to confront Bumby, there were police waiting for him and rumors were already circulating on the East End…”

“What rumors?

“Seymour is so determined to give them a happy ending that she would sell her soul to the devil and curse Bumby to achieve it. — I know these words by heart.” She sighed and looked at him. “No matter what she did to put him in his place, it wouldn't compare to the crimes he committed. Whatever she decided to do, I'm not going to judge her because I know she did it in good faith.”

“Even if she hurt someone?”

“If she hurt him, he absolutely deserved it.”

He took a breath, then raised a smile as Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell returned to them with smiles on their faces.

“Let's go to the hall and then we'll think about what to do next,” Mrs. Seymour said, and the four of them walked towards the banquet hall full of people.

People mostly stood in smaller groups and talked or snacked on appetizers. People Alice's age and younger didn't necessarily pay attention to the music and dancing — rather, people Mrs. Seymour's and Mr. Mitchell's age and older did. P, however, didn't miss the fact that they were starting to think about something, looking around the room and planning something.

When Alice decided for them to sit on one of the sofas, Mrs. Seymour just smiled and soon disappeared with Mr. Mitchell into the crowd of people.

Holding her so close felt good. He felt her touch through his clothes, her perfume, heard her voice speaking softly to him, right next to his ear.

He felt chills running through him. Her giggle made him smile. It was good to see Alice so happy.

After some time, he noticed that a lot of people were leaving the hall — especially the younger ones.

“What do you think is going on?”

She shrugged, then stood up and held out her hand to him.

“Let's find out.”

He laughed and grabbed her hand, letting her lead him behind the crowd. They reached a not very large room where a lot of people were entering. We could hear familiar singing, a chorus of voices, the tramp of shoes and lively music. When they managed to enter, they saw Mrs. Seymour, Mr. Mitchell and two boys standing on an extremely massive rectangular table. Mr. Mitchell played the accordion, Mrs. Seymour played the guitar and sang. One of the teenagers played the trumpet, the other played the violin. There were so many people that they could barely find a space. 

Mrs. Seymour waved at them, smiling broadly and then returning to the performance. 

They had fun. When P open up — and Alice, too, when she realized that no one was paying attention to anyone here — he felt more alive.

He couldn't contain his laughter, amusement, and overall joy at dancing with Alice. Sometimes she apologized when she bumped into him because of someone else, sometimes they just started laughing together.

They knew some of these songs, singing with Mrs. Seymour. Some of them had already sung during the Sabbath, and P could hear some of them when Mrs. Seymour hummed to herself. P was in love with the familiarity of it all. No one really cared how he danced, no one really cared about the declarations of love they sang to complete strangers. P thought about a completely abstract situation — whether Carlo and Romeo would like it.

During one of the songs, a forest of hands appeared, clapping to the rhythm.

P wondered if, if he were a real boy, this was what his life would be like. Not a fight to the death, but fun, joy and living life to the fullest.

Alice must have noticed a change in his demeanor because she placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him worriedly. P, however, simply grabbed her wrist and decided to kiss it to assure her that everything was fine. 

Seeing his smile, she returned it, feeling her heart leap at the sight.

“Wole Wolta, boys!” They heard and looked at Mrs. Seymour. “Roughly!”

There was the sound of a violin and an accordion. The couples swirled, and P also decided to make Alice dance. 

They felt the same tension between them again. They didn't take their eyes off each other, they didn't realize when they held their breaths or when their foreheads touched each other.

They stopped, their ears pounding. They weren't even sure if the music had ended.

“I need to get some air,” she said, and P nodded.

They went outside to the garden. The cool air hit their shoulders and P decided to throw his tailcoat over her shoulders. They sat on one of the benches, silent for a moment.

“I feel like I should tell you something,” he whispered, and Alice looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed her hand, glancing at it out of the corner of his eye. He looked at her closely enough to notice a few old, pale scars. He rubbed them with his thumb, wondering how he should start. Confessions were not his forte. Although, he had an idea how he could tell her.

“Because Geppetto… I mean, my father, didn't bind me to the Grand Covenant, I'm able to do things that other puppets can't do. I don't have to obey the creator, I can lie, develop feelings,” he emphasized the last two words to let her know what he meant. Judging by the quickening pulse beneath his fingers, Alice knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Can you lie?”

“Let's just say I have a special talent for this.”

There's that tension again. She looked at him with slightly lowered eyelids. She was so close, he could look at her and appreciate every detail of her face. 

“Then lie to me.”

He felt his heart speed up.

“I don't care about you, and I really don't want what I feel for you to develop.”

She scanned his face, lingering on his blue eyes that stared at her like a puppy.

She covered her mouth with her hand and burst into tears. P didn't quite understand. He let her hug him, tucked her into him and stroked her back.

“Can…” she paused, thinking for a moment. “Can we take it slow?”

A weight lifted from his shoulders. 

“I'm happy that… but I can't. That's... too fast. I just need a moment to move on.”

P nodded.

“I completely understand.”

She pulled away and let him wipe her tears and lightly touch up her slightly blurry makeup.

“Thank you and…” she looked into his eyes again, “I think I feel the same.”

P immediately thought that if something was going to change, he was willing to give her all the time in the world to be ready. Time has no importance in this case, and he was ready to delve into the romance gradually, learning about subsequent levels at the appropriate time.

Fireworks lit up the sky, and P buried his face in her neck, enjoying the feeling of her hands running through his hair.

[ozaitheestallion]

You said you immediately saw Ozai as being played as a drag queen?? PLEASE elaborate I'm so interested in the way ur mind works 🙏

Okay so maybe I’m just incredibly fucked up and deep down the queer horror rabbit hole (I’ve been watching a lot of Dragula, American Horror Story and classic horrors lately), but the second you start looking at Ozai through a drag, camp, “classic Disney villain” lens, it’s hard to see him any other way.

Like I watched this show as a kid when I originally aired and like basically everyone, I was absolutely terrified and sickened by Ozai, the shitty dad and ultimate big bad villain who is also not even really the main villain, right? Like that’s Azula or Zhao or whoever. That’s how basically all of us original viewers saw him and how a lot of new viewers still do. Fair enough. Not inaccurate.

However, I didn’t do rewatches of the show again, not until the revival in interest over COVID. I hadn’t rewatched it even once since it originally aired and so therefore I expected my viewpoint to change…but nowhere near as drastically as my view of Ozai did.

I’m not saying Ozai is written to be viewed as a drag character, because of course he isn’t, but as I said, once you start looking at him through that specific lens, you won’t be able to see him any other way.

He’s kept in the shadows unless we need a dramatic scary reveal. He’s constantly making dramatic, prose-filled speeches for the benefit of…like…no one lmao like most his scenes are one on one confrontations. He has a very dramatic design, being a conventionally attractive man yet has that fuck ass goatee, the best eyeliner in the country and more detail put into his hair than any other character gets.

He does his whole reveal as the Phoenix King that goes off without a hitch, perfectly rehearsed. This was a surprise to no one but Azula. He got every damn person in the palace in on this stupid reveal. They already know he’s going to become a new ruler with a new title. They already know. This isn’t for their benefit. He did an entire reveal just for the benefit of his kid. If there’s one thing a queen loves, it’s a dramatic unnecessary reveal.

As he fights Aang, he just keeps making these speeches that a child will either not be interested in or too far away to even hear or appreciate, yet he keeps going anyway.

Right up until the end and then going into the comics, he’s dramatic, bitter and playing everyone against each other even though he has absolutely nothing to gain anymore. He puts Zuko and Azula against each other and antagonises Ursa even though it will gain him nothing and do nothing except kill time. Insults for the sake of insults and mess for the sake of mess. The fact insults of far greater power can be thrown back at him in his position is something he doesn’t even consider. Just messy for the sake of being messy and evil for the sake of being evil.

Ozai would fit nicely alongside classic queer-coded Disney villains like Ursula, Scar, Hades, Maleficent and Captain Hook.

He’s so dramatic and so over the top with his cruelty, his crimes and his villainous actions, yet is completely and utterly committed to the bit he’s doing. There’s no self aware clever jabs like Azula or obvious moment of “look at how ridiculous he is” like with Zhao. Ozai and his writing are completely committed to what he’s doing and burning down the entire world literally by hand, and at no point is it questioned. It’s like watching Divine in a John Waters film. This is simply what the character I doing and you’re the ridiculous one for questing them.

Ozai takes himself so seriously and so literally and is so very offended and genuinely surprised when he’s questioned and called out, (like why on earth would he think burning his son’s face is a valid teaching moment or burning the entire earth kingdom will in any way be a good start to his new empire), that it becomes camp.

This is…extremely long and meandering and tbh I don’t think there’s any way for me to really clearly define why I view Ozai as an example of a classic queer/drag coded villain. If you don’t agree and do take his portrayal as an abusive father and an imperialist tyrant seriously and that’s how you prefer to view the story, then by all means do that. I’m not trying to change your mind.

I’m just saying that sometimes our views of things can change dramatically as we ourselves change as people, and sometimes those changes are extremely entertaining, nonsensical and fun to explore.

Like the IT remakes, some unspeakable horrors can also be viewed and enjoyed as queer adjacent comedies if you look sideways and saying. And sometimes the unspeakable horrors are better that way.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 8]

Mirror Troubles

TW: Vampires, Implied Assault (Turning into a Vampire), Some implications of depression Genre: Romance, Light Comedy Pairing: Lee Ten x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.0K Prompt: Vampires. What more is there to say?

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: Random ish but I've been so into Castlevania recently. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

"No, no, you're missing it," you shook your head and Ten groans in frustration. "Ten, why don't you let me-"

"No! Absolutely not!" He shakes his head and holds the brush in his hands again.

"Wait, at least let me wipe off the part you missed," you held the cotton in your hands and leaned over the sink so you could erase the eyeshadow on his cheek and his eyes move over to look at you. "Why are you so adamant on doing it yourself anyway, it would be easier if I helped you.

"Because I have an eternity left, I should at least find out how to do eyeshadow."

"Okay, well, why are you using a mirror, then? You can't even see yourself."

"I need to for the vibes, (Y/N)," Ten rolls his eyes, stating it as if it was obvious. "You wouldn't get it, you can see your own reflection."

"Well, yeah, but is there really no other way to see your reflection?" You leaned against the bathroom counter.

"Unfortunately not, not even in bodies of water," he shook his head and held the brush to his face again.

"Maybe try feeling for your eyelid first this time instead of just going ham, Ten," you offered.

"Yeah, yeah," he do so and, for the first time tonight, he successfully spreads the beige hue over his eye.

"Hey! That's the way!" You congratulate him and, with a small smirk, he does the other eye. You could tell he was excited with the way his fangs slightly poked out of his smile. Since Ten had been, rather unceremoniously, turned into a vampire he'd been in a sort of slump when it came to things he used to enjoy doing and you'd been trying to help him every step of the way, providing support whenever you can, and slowly Ten had started picking up those activities again. The only one that he hadn't was makeup, which both of you tackled now.

"Okay, now eyeliner."

"Alright, settle down, cowboy," you held your hand out, "one triumph at a time, you already got base and shadow done, eyeliner might be a whole different ballpark without a mirror," as you explained, Ten shook the liquid eyeliner bottle in his hands.

"It'll be fine," he says.

"How on Earth are you going to get them even?!"

"I was a pro when I was alive, I'll be a pro undead," he says confidently. But you were still worried, you were worried that even a slight mistake will send him back in his cocoon and undo all the work you'd been putting out. Ten was right, he was a pro back then, hell, he even did your eyeliner, so even a small mistake now might spell catastrophe.

"Okay, Ten, if you say so," you leaned back on the counter so you could see him work and, again, his eyes move over to you.

"Could you help me though?" He asks quietly, focused on getting the small brush to start on the middle of his eyelid.

"Of course," you lean over closer to him so you could see better, "you're right at the middle."

"Good," he places the brush against his skin now, slowly tracing it along his eyelid and, hey, he was actually pretty good at it! Until he got to the end of his eyelid.

"You wanna wing it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, what kind?"

"Just a straight one."

"Okay," you shifted on the counter as he dragged the wing out and, "stop." He does so.

"Alright," he says without removing the brush, he has to get the angle right. "I'm trying to move off of muscle memory here."

"And so far you're doing really well," you nodded, but Ten still hasn't moved his hand. He takes a deep breath and, slowly, he brings the brush back, "and stop," you said quietly just as the brush hit the crease of his eye. And now came the hardest part of the wing, filling it in.

"If I start coloring outside of the lines, let me know," he says.

"Of course," you watched him fill in the wing slowly and you had to say that you were impressed, he really still was a pro. He puts the wand down and turns toward you.

"How is it? It's not ugly, is it?"

"Ten! It looks really good!" You turn his face so you could see it better under the light. "You've still got it!" You encouraged him and he let out a sigh of relief, habitually turning to the mirror and seeing only your reflection. "Think you can do the other eye?"

"Not with these shaky hands I won't," he holds his right hand up and you notice the slight tremor in it, "I was so scared it'd look bad," he shakes his head.

"I get that but, hey, it looks sharp," you commented, bringing your head slightly lower so you could look at him. "Kind of a statement too, one-eyed-eyeliner."

"It kind of is, huh!" He holds a hand to his cheek. "Alright, let's go out."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yes! I'm in a good mood, let's go clubbing."

"Right now?!"

"Yes." He walks out of the bathroom and you followed him quickly.

"I have to get dressed!"

"Then hurry up before I change my mind," he rolls his eyes and turns to you only slightly, lips upturning into a slanted smile when he sees your bigger smile. You couldn't help but be happy, this was the first time he willingly chose to go out since the incident.

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[morvantmortuary]

Happy Halloween from my crew to yours! 🎃👻🖤

Also, a certain Devil is knocking on the front door and as it's pulled open, wings spread out, a large grin on Jude's face.

"Trick or treat!"

(sorry this is late, babe, but it was very much appreciated!! :3)

The door opens wide (wider than they have yet, as if to accommodate the impressive span of a devil's wings)...

But there is, oddly, no one waiting in the candle-filled foyer. The flames gutter ominously, as if reveling in being unattended next to so much ancient woodwork.

For a confusing second, there is nothing but the sound of the distant autumn breeze, and perhaps something scuffling further within the darkness of the House.

The scuffling comes closer, and closer, until at last, illuminated by the faint flickering light around it, there emerges...

A skeletal cat wearing a hollowed out pumpkin with holes for its rattling limbs, looking a bit more like a turtle than their usual feline self.

Maggie stops in front of Jude and lets out a pleased echoing, ethereal meow.

On cue, a scarlet-eyelinered Necromancer hops piggyback-style just between Jude's wings, hugging him tightly about the shoulders.

"Boo," Maxi grins, pressing a giant kiss to Jude's cheek from behind. "Hi there, handsome! Look at you, surprisin' us! Aren't you sweet?"

"Don't break him, he just got here." Hector emerges from the shadowed door as if stepping out of thin air, holding a mug with some sort of wafting, deliciously scented steam. "Hey man. You want some cider? Mulled it ourselves. People don't mull things enough anymore."

"Please don't bore a guest with discussions of mullin'." Rora drops down from the porch ceiling, somewhat startling both the boys in turn (with Maxi just hugging tighter to Jude's back and Hex stumbling back a step). "We only just now found someone willin' to date my brother." She looks at Jude with a sly grin. "Welcome back. I woulda thought your lot had a lot to do tonight."

"Which is why it's even better you stopped by." Maxi gives Jude a kiss on his other cheek and a ferocious backwards hug before dropping off his back and circling around him. "Come on, we have sweets for days in the kitchen, please come eat some so we don't have to finish them off ourselves."

Hector and Rora fall comfortably in step helping show Jude inside.

"So, how's Jersey?" Hector asks brightly.

"How's your sister?" Rora adds, trying and failing to sound casual.

(thanks so much for taking the time, babe! I hope you and your crew had a wonderful Halloween yourselves! <333)

[basmalahasad]

Week Three - Zula Rabikowska

Untitled, 2021

The shot was taken with a small aperture and a narrow depth of field, possibly ranging from f/1.4 to f/2.8, resulting in an obvious "bokeh effect" in the background and a lack of finer details except for the subject. The lack of distortion indicates that this shot was taken with a standard lens. It's also photographed at eye level, emphasizing familiarity and connection. The subject is almost in the center of the frame, with a slight lean to the right, adding a dynamic aspect to the composition. Curves dominate this photograph, as seen by the subject's sweatshirt, hair, eyeliner, smoke, and even the lip expression. These curves provide the image flow and organic movement. Zula additionally used warm, natural light from the subject's right and front. This lighting arrangement contrasts the well-lit subject with the very dark background, drawing attention to the subject and creating a visually pleasing focus point. The standard lens and eye-level perspective provide the impression that the viewers is engaged with the subject on an intimate and relatable level. The subject's central-right placement provide a feeling of balance and a subtle sense of movement, offering some interest to the overall arrangement. The use of light on the subject against a dark background draws attention to the girl's features and expression, generating a strong visual contrast that represents a sense of individuality or uniqueness. It also gives the image depth and dimension, highlighting the subject's appearance.

The series "Nothing But a Curtain"

The portraits in the series are mostly of people from the "Eastern Bloc." These portraits depict the people in a variety of events and perspectives and are usually accompanied by private possessions or symbolic artifacts. The aim of the series is to shed light on the impact of cultural and gender stereotypes on their lives and explore the long-term effects of the Iron Curtain and the downfall of communism. Furthermore, the series investigates how these individuals navigate and express their gender identities in a constantly evolving sociopolitical setting. Zula expertly uses a Kiev 80 camera, which was made in the Soviet Union, to create a distinct and classic appearance in her photos. According to her, the camera's metal shutter produces a "curtain" of light in the photographs, adding a symbolic element to the subjects and making the images more iconic. This approach is similar to the Pictorialist movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Pictorialism, like Zula's images, prefers the subject to be in focus with everything else in the image blurred. Each portrait is framed and composed in a unique way, with some subjects shown in close-up and others in environmental contexts, yet the subject is always the center of attention in all the photos. These decisions contribute to the subject's uniqueness and diversity, showcasing her skillful eye for photography. Zula's use of warm and dreamy light effects unites the portraits as one story, creating an inviting atmosphere that draws viewers in. The accompanying written material serves to provide a meaningful context and greater depth to the images. It effectively sheds light on the series' objective, the artist's journey, and the larger social and historical backdrop. It is especially significant in a topic where many people may not have the background information to understand the work's meaning. By doing so, it elevates the photographs from mere portraits to a reflection of the diverse realities of people in the region. This expanded perspective helps to enhance the viewer's understanding and appreciation of the images.

My Photographs

Side Harsh Lighting: This casts an intense shadow, highlighting texture on one side while concealing all features on the other. This heightens the image's drama and intensity. The image has a dark and gloomy vibe, and the shadows and hidden elements provide a feeling of mystery and suspense. This type of lighting is often seen in mystery, thriller, and noir films such as Se7en.

Direct Harsh Lighting: This produces a strong shadow as well as very bright highlights. It produces a stronger contrast and can make the apple look more intense and vibrant, accentuating its texture and features. This draws attention to the subject at hand and gives them the appearance of being in the spotlight.

Soft Diffused Lighting: Diffused lighting, created by a softbox or natural light, provides soothing, and even radiance. This smoothness and consistency gives the fruit a sense of calmness, making it appear inviting and delicious.

Warm vs. Cool Lighting: Warm lighting produces a cozy and nostalgic environment that is great for making fruit feel inviting or romantic. Cool lighting creates a sense of quiet and detachment, making the fruit look fresh or cold like it is in a fridge.

[gardeniashellfire]

Souls & Flowers: Chapter 2 earlier concept.

Just the general jizz on how the story was going to go and how the 3Jinracha would meet.

Chan is well respected Mafia leader, very feard, known everyone and everything thank to been here for so long. He only trust his soulamtes, for the time been, it's just Jisung, who he met long ago as secretary of one of the companies that run under his side of the terf.

They are known as CB97 and J.ONE, an unstable duo in the scene, but one day their world is shaken when they go to a fashion show in the GOT7 territory facing two new players in their arrangement, a bodyguard who was watching over one of the models, the taller having his mark displayed as he walked the run way, BamBam telling them he was also a dancer known by them as Jinnie, and if they stayed a little bit longer they could appreciate him.

They did, in a turn of events, they made eye contact with the dancer, the club was shocked when the golden light shined bright across the room, the bodyguard eyes, who Jisung heard hia code name was Spear B. widen as he looked at the dancer, you could appreciate three flower been covered in the golden rim shining in the fluorescente lights. A magnolia, a daisy with white and orange and spider flower.

The dancer looked pleased in some sort, still maintaining eye contact with them two he whispered something to the body guard, the shorter one signing as the dancer did it's job. It was obvious to everyone what he was doing, their eyes where glued to him as his movement seduced them, worse part it was working.

Once he finished, a fine coat of sweat decorating his body, they bodyguard got on stage and carried him, looking at them two, a silent sigh for them to follow him.

The laughs and giggles of Jinnie where beautiful, as they got closer, they heard the cheers of glee and joy, his seques suite jingles as he hugs Spear B,

"Oh! Finally, finally finally, Binnie!" the shorter one (by a lot) hugging him with a sweet smile, his face was more clear in this light setting, his hair was shoulder length, a beautiful blond with pastel pink highlights, his makeup was slightly ruined, eyeliner and mascara running down his eyes, his eye shadow had smudge glitter all over his face with pink and red accents, Spear B eyes finally landing on them, and it happened again, the glow, the warm, the feeling of completeness.

The black haired man smiled, soft as the one he gave Jinnie.

"Their are here, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin...

I just notice that Hyunjin job was always on my mind, it took quite a turn tbh.

[thelanternlight]

15 Questions for 15 Mutuals

Got tagged by @ ongoingpanicattack , wooo! I’m really bad at these but here we go!

Are you named after anyone?

Yes, paternal grandfather. I have his first name as my middle name. I do not believe in naming children after living people in general though, and I also think that at the age of 30 everyone should be required by law to choose a new name for themselves.

Do you have any kids?

Thank the maker I do not.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

me? never

When was the last time you cried?

I got a little teary eyed at a documentary about Miss Cleo last night because she went through so much and was just trying to be a person doing good things.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

I’d love to say something about their character but I can’t lie, my eye tends to notice attractive features first especially if they’re trying to highlight those features (e.g. if they have pretty eyes and they’re wearing eyeliner and eye shadow, etc).

Eye color?

Blue

What sports do you/have you played?

When I was in elementary school my friends tried to get me to play soccer after school once. I liked it a lot but I didn’t know the rules and they all did, so I just went about my business shortly afterwards. Then in middle school I was on the track team but after a few practice afternoons I found that I enjoyed playing hookie a lot more. Like a lot more.

Any special talent?

I like to think I have a few, but writing is kind of my thing. I write books. Please feel free to click on “books” up at the top menu if you’re on my main site (TheLanternLight.com).

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. I used to really appreciate a sad ending or something poignant but fuck that shit. Real life is enough of a drag, let me feel good.

Do you have any pets?

A little baby angel princess cupcake lovemuffin sugarbooger dog.

How tall are you?

5'11

Favorite subject in school?

English

Dream job?

I do not dream of having a job. But I would love to be appreciated for my writing. Especially with money.

I’m sorry, I know this sucks. Lol :/

[moodywyrm]

hi moony!

i’m in the same boat as you, i didn’t really get into makeup and girly things until much later in life. do you have any tips for makeup? and any suggestions about products to get? i’ve tried asking my mom and i know some things about eyeshadow/blush (still would appreciate suggestions) now, but i would love to do eyeliner and i just don’t know how! are there any youtubers who would help with this kind of stuff?

hi baby!!! I Can maybe help a lil bit!!

I never really watched YouTubers, I literally just winged it, but some good makeup tiktokers I watch are thebrontemarie, mariellegreguski (she’s more fashion but she also does some makeup!), thelipsticklesbians (they talk a lot about specific products and what they’re best suited for), etc.

The eyeliner I’ve always used is the the nyx epic ink liner! It’s a liquid pen liner, but I find it’s super forgiving!! A lil tip for doing eyeliner is just, always start smaller than you think you want and use light pressure. I tend to only actually use the very tip of the liner, I find it gives me the most control and it stays pretty thin.

I don’t really do complex eyeshadow looks, but I do really like the colourpop and tarte formulas! I’ve also heard that nyx shadows are pretty good! If you want softer eyeshadows that are less pigmented right off the bat, Korean and Chinese makeup brands like Rom&nd and flower knose are better! Western makeup brands generally go for that more high impact super pigmented look! Honestly, it matters more to have good brushes than the top eyeshadows! Which reminds me, I need new brushes 😭

I’m a cream and liquid blush girlie all the way! I feel like they’re a lot easier to use? I like the milk blush stick and the tower28 cream blushes, as well as the glossier cloud paints! If you’re careful, you could probably also use eyeshadow as blush if you want powder! I only have one actual powder blush and it’s the mac powder blush in raizin 😭

If anyone wants to jump in on this please do!! I love talking abt makeup and skincare and stuff!!