#the only real difference is the quality is better and the brush is my normal brush LOL

[wheatcak3]

I redrew my header image recently! now theyre extra cool 😎✨✨

[elizakai]

Hay :D

Can you tell us what do you use to color your drawings on traditional? I need some tips •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀

why hello!! Sorry for such a late answer!!

so, I’m a fun little something we call ✨inconsistent✨(sigh) so while I may not be the best person to ask…but here’s things I commonly use color wise (favored art supply dump)

Alchohol ink markers

I use these most, they are a beautiful thing, my favorite are Ohuhu as they are high quality and a much lower price then brands such as Copic. (Can you taste the salt.)

They have less blend ability in comparison to Copic but are overall a much better investment if you ask me! They are great for a more smooth look! Another one I have around that I use for less saturated colors is touch youch youch

I very much prefer brush pens over the chiseled ones, for a paint like experience, and more dynamic application! Again these are just personal preference!

(I have a bad habit of opening ink capsules and painting with ink. I would not necessarily recommend this.)

Watercolor

There’s lots of pretty nice watercolor you can get for a pretty cheap price! The ones I prefer currently are MeiLiang, I got them online for a good price and they are very nice!

That said I do mix around different brands and such, whatever is on hand.

Gel pens

I love gel pens, even if you just have like one or two it’s such a difference!! I love just having white ones for adding little details and such to drawings! You can also get colors if you like! I use the Jellyrollers!

Colored pencils

a lot of people hate colored pencils which I get, but I find them very helpful for detailing (when I have motivation to do so lol) I often use them on top of drawings I’ve layed down a base of alcohol ink with! That way it has a clean base and can add the fun texture and stuff afterwards!! Those smooth looks can be achieved with pencils alone, I often just don’t have time for that :) it’s very fun though, layering is key with pencils

I do very much enjoy prismicolor colored pencils!!! It’s an investment I don’t regret lol, although I’m sure any soft core colored pencils would have the same effect!!

Posca

occasionally I use posca markers for large poster sized drawings, esp for the ink capsules. I like the paint coverage!! That said they can be a pain to work with.

it’s probably not good to be like me and use all of this on sketch paper. (I know. I’m aware that that is psychotic.) but I do normally use sketch paper, getting some multi medium paper might be good if you are interested in paints inks and pencils though, that way you can use it for all of the above :))

Color wise that’s what I commonly mix and match with, when it comes to pens my FAVORITE pens to sketch or do lineart with are Tombow calligraphy pens. Simple brush pens, it makes detailing harder but I enjoy the dynamics. There’s lots of micro pens you can find for small details as well!! I also prefer to use mechanical pencils for sketching, simply because the mechanical lead stays thin and sharp instead of getting dull. That said, I use very cheap mechanical pencils, and sometimes you need a full pencil depending on the project.

There’s a little mini rant on the art supplies I use color wise, again these are just my preferences from what I’ve tried!! I’m by no means a professional haha, i very much experiment and make a mess of things!

Traditional art can become…quite the investment. Especially when it comes to buying all of the art supplies as your resources dwindle. I have to buy new art supplies much more often than I’d like to admit.

All that said, I am a firm believer of art being able to be formed from any medium!! >:D

be it a simple 2b pencil, a ballpoint pen, or crayons products, I think anything can be used to make something really pretty :))

Only real advice I have is don’t be scared to mix and match, get messy, and experiment!! Do whatever’s most fun, and don’t think you can��t make something great from something simple!! There’s no real rules. Only techniques and suggestions. It can be daunting because there’s no undo button in traditional art, but I think that’s a really good way to expand your abilities :0 it teaches you to roll with mess ups and learn how to work with them!!

Most importantly, let yourself learn from others, but NEVER let people force how you use your supplies, don’t be scared to beat them up if that’s what you need (the art supplies not the people.), and don’t think you need the fanciest things to make nice things >:D

if you want more specific tips and such feel free to ask, I’ll do my best to answer :,)

[smol-grey-tea]

Title Change: Worth and Warmth -> Secret Ending Three

Secret Ending Three - Chapter 3: Pamper

Guys. I think I have a thing for this trope.

The trust. The vulnerability. The domesticity. The platonic, non-sexual nudity.

Why I love this trope so much, I DO not know.

It's still cold, even in the house. The whole place is full of the remainders of gift wrappings and ripped packaging. It's a huge mess, but it's fun to leave everything out and pretend Christmas never ended.

The world we've found ourselves in itself has traces of every single version of events. I'm glad every Christmas we had was a good one.

Today was hectic. I'm beginning to understand why it's called Boxing Day, what with how it feels like you've been thrown in the ring. We all stayed at the department store all day preparing for our future with the seven of us, buying clothes and groceries. Dinner was rushed but comforting and warm in this storm of emotions. I think we're all just about ready to head to bed immediately.

I can't help but yawn as I sit down to write in my diary again. It feels like only now I can finally take a breather and I just stare at the past pages, pen in hand.

The words are smudged. Not because of being tampered with, but because each past diary entry had been written all on top of each other in a way that's beyond comprehension. I think I should invest in better quality pens anyway though.

He opens my door without knocking and just stands in the doorway, looking at me. I can already see the beginnings of faint dark circles forming under his eye.

"Ready for bed? You look tired."

"I do..? If you say so," he said, perching on the corner of the bed. After getting home, one of the topics brought up at dinner were our sleeping arrangements. We decided on going with the same arrangements we'd had at the beginning, while he can sleep with me in my bed.

"I've never slept before."

"Really?" I turned around and put my pen down at his comment. "I thought you'd been human for a while already."

"Yeah, but the Abandoned Toys Room isn't like the normal world. We all appear human there, but time flows differently and we don't need to eat or sleep."

"This must all be so new for you then."

"Tell me about it."

I followed his eyes as he looked down and fidgeted with his left sleeve. I didn't notice until now how his fingernails had such dirt underneath them and were incredibly jagged and cracked.

I took this moment to study the rest of his body as well. He was wearing the clothes I originally found him in: his ripped white shirt with the dark purple trousers and accessories. His hair was dry and tangled in places and his bare feet were near black with dirt. How could I have left him in such a state for so long?

"Are you really okay like this??"

"Like what?"

"Like...like this! I can't believe I was so reckless with you when I was little. You don't even have both eyes anymore, you're so dirty!"

"Well, it's not really fun, no. But I've lived like this for a long time now, I'm used to it."

"No, this isn't right. No matter how much you're used to it."

"Hm?"

I leapt up from my seat and took his hands in mine, determined.

"I'm no longer the kind of person who will leave you to rot. I promise you, for real this time, I'm gonna fix my mistakes. Let's start with fixing you."

"Just what do you mean by that??"

"I'm saying, why don't I give you a pamper day? You probably don't know how to care for yourself, right? Since you're so new to being human?"

"Oh..."

"So I'll take care of you! Does that sound good?"

"I hated being thrown in the washing machine..."

"No, don't worry. Human hygiene is nothing like that! It's actually kind of relaxing, I promise."

"Ah, I see..."

"So what do you think? Shall I help you get clean and ready for bed?"

"Well... Alright. Maybe it'll be good to get a good dusting for once."

"Yay! Let's go! I promise I'll do my best to help!"

"First of all, let's brush your teeth." She says this with her back turned to me, as she's leaned over the bath, running the water. The sound of the rushing tap is loud and the smell of the bubble bath concoction she's generously pouring in has already filled the room.

I find a spare toothbrush in the cabinet next to the sink and make my attempt at squeezing the paste onto the bristles. Despite the limited dexterity in my left arm, I manage to empty a sufficient enough amount. It should be the size of a pea, right?

"Woah, you did well with the toothpaste. You could've let me do it for you, you know?"

"It's easy enough. But how am I supposed to use this in my mouth?"

"It's alright, it's easier than it looks. You have to open your mouth and brush each tooth, not too rough."

Cautiously, I sniffed the wooden stick before biting into it gently. The paste's minty flavour was strong, and I wrinkled my nose at it initially, but soon warmed up to its biting cold. I enjoyed placidly chewing on it a lot more than I thought I would.

"I don't know if that's how you're supposed to do it, but if you're happy like that, it's fine. It is your first time after all... How about you try smiling and I can brush the front teeth for you to show you how I do it?"

"Hmm..." I furrowed my brows at her before remembering her promise not to treat me like she used to, then gave a hesitant nod.

"Okay. Here." She held her hand out to me and I placed the brush in her palm. "Now say cheese!" she beamed. I bared my teeth in response, not as a simple following of instructions, but as a reflection of her own contagious smile.

The way she held the brush looked like an inconvenience to her, what with the awkward angle she'd have to approach brushing someone else's teeth from. However, although it felt as if she too were new to this activity from her shakiness, the sensation wasn't invasive too much, and it was more of a pain to stand so still than to feel the back-and-forth of the brush.

I forgot all about the unpleasantness of the paste's vibrancy when watching her face as she worked. Her lips pressed together in a tight line. Her brow creased, as mine did before, now in concentration. Her yellow eyes were trained on me, and I silently counted the number of times she blinked, noting the immensity of her pupils and the intricacies of her irises.

"That's basically how it's done. Do you think you can take it from there? Just try and do what I did but along the tops and bottoms of your teeth too, and where I couldn't reach. Oh, and you can spit out the paste if it gets annoying."

I silently asked for the toothbrush back, holding out my own hand. After spitting some of the annoyance into the sink, I stuck the brush back in, ready to make a better attempt. As she said, it wasn't nearly as difficult as it seemed, just a bit tedious. Although, her demonstration made it much easier to understand. Soon, I felt much more refreshed and clean, and washed the rest of the mixture out, satisfied.

"How did you find that?"

"Not bad. A bit gross."

"Then that sounds good enough. Are you ready for the bath? The water seems like a good temperature now."

"Hmmm. Why not?" Can't be half as bad as last time, right?

I dipped a finger in the water, crouched down on the floor after removing all my clothes. It felt strange to be without them. Sitting in a tub of warm water might feel stranger though. Gingerly, I stepped in and acclimated to the steaming heat. It felt nice to sit, surrounded by mounds of bubbles.

"Are you in yet?"

"I'm up to my ears in bubbles, you can look now."

"Okay... Oh my god." Her face lit up in surprise as she laid eyes on me. "You look so cute like that! Like you're hiding in the bubbles! So cute!"

"Heh... It does feel nice."

"Right? And check this out too!" She produced from the cabinet a small pink ball. "It's a bath bomb. I haven't used one of these in a while, since I tend to shower more than bathe, but I thought it might be fun for you to use!"

"What does it do?"

"Umm, it's easier to show than explain. It kinda just fizzes and makes really pretty colours in the water. I've also got a couple rubber duckies to help you relax too." I do like ducks.

The bath bomb fizzled almost immediately as it landed in the water. It sank straight to the bottom and I watched the pink fizz reach the surface enthusiastically, before it began to spread across the expanse of the bath.

The fizz mingled with the bubbles, tinging them pink and the rubber duck bobbed along, looking startled.

"Alright! Then if you're comfortable in there, shall we begin?" she asked, rolling her sleeves back for the tenth time. I nodded in response, more occupied by swishing the water around me and popping bubbles.

"Okay then! First of all, let's make sure you're all properly wet. I'm gonna fill this jug with water and pour it over your hair, okay? I'll use my other hand to shield your face though. Ready?"

"Ready."

"Okay. Remember to hold your breath."

I squeezed the rubber duck while I held my breath as the warm water hugged my hair and trickled down my face. It felt strange and I couldn't help but giggle at the sensation, which then accidentally allowed some of the water into my mouth. That part didn't taste or feel good.

She lightly dabbed my face with a towel in apology before picking up a bottle of something. When she opened the lid, it smelled floral.

"Next, let's do the shampoo." She squirted some of the floral stuff into her hand with a squelch and began to massage it into my scalp. Her hands were small and soft, working up a lather with care.

When she said she was going to pamper me, I hadn't expected for it to really feel like it. She rinsed out the shampoo after ensuring that my hair was thoroughly frothy, then did the same with the conditioner. She also kneaded some body wash into my skin in slow and soft circular motions.

While playing with the mountainous bubbles, I piled a fistful on top of my hair like a wig, when I noticed that I couldn't find a single knot or tangle. It felt refreshing to be able to card my fingers through my hair without issue, as soft and light and breathable as stuffing. My hands too were free of dust or grime, now along with my feet, wriggling at the other end of the bath with Sir Ducky. Perhaps this human hygiene thing looked not to be such a bad idea afterall.

"Okay, we're all done. Are you ready to get out now?"

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Oh, are you enjoying it then? I'm glad! But the water's dirty now, so it would be best to get out. Don't worry though, we can definitely do this again another time!"

"Aww... Okay then."

Fascinated, I watched the water all swirl into a mini whirlpool down the drain, leaving only a residue of pink bubbles and a lonely rubber duck. Meanwhile, I was cloaked in a fluffy purple bathrobe and she rubbed my hair through thoroughly with a separate towel.

Back in the bedroom, I sat on her desk chair while she sat on the corner of the bed as she brushed and blow dried my hair. The sound of the hairdryer was powerful but the heat was alright. I could already feel how quickly I was becoming dry.

"Hmm, let's see... Next, how about we take care of those nails?"

"My nails?"

"Yeah, they're a bit too long, aren't they? If they get too long, you might end up scratching yourself or they might break on their own."

"Oh..." Running my fingers over the sharpness of my nails didn't exactly feel good, in truth.

"It's okay though, all we have to do is file them down. They will grow back, so we don't have to worry."

"Oh, okay." Human bodies sure are strange.

She leaned over towards me, holding a sandpaper stick over a bin, with my hand gently cradled in hers again. Awkwardly but kindly, the stick made back and forth motions on each nail, slowly sanding each down to a smooth, round shape. It was slightly painful and filled the place with dust, but I enjoyed how my human fingers now resembled my old paws with their softer edges.

"How's that? I tried to get it as neat as I could."

"It's per..." I tried to speak but was interrupted by my own yawn. "... Perfect."

"Are you getting sleepier? That's cute. Why don't you get changed into your new pyjamas then and let's get into bed?"

She wiped off the dust from my fingers before I got changed into my starry pyjamas. They were a bit bigger than I expected but I do prefer long sleeves anyway, so I don't mind it that much.

"Oh, one more thing." I'd gotten under the covers and I was about to lay down when she stopped me. "Give me your hands again."

I hesitated for not even a second before obeying, and she happily massaged into my hands another cream that she meticulously rubbed into the skin of each finger, along each knuckle and into my palms. I took my hands back when she was satisfied and lifted them up to my nose. It smelled like watermelon.

Once she'd also gotten changed, we huddled together under the covers, entangled in each other's limbs.

"Oh, but-" I winced.

"What's up? Is it too close?"

"No, it's not that. It's just...my arm."

"Oh! Sorry! Let's swap sides."

I wriggled my bad arm out from underneath her and she crawled over me to the opposite side of the bed. We resumed our position again, without as much pins and needles, now comfortable.

"How do you feel now?"

"Happy." I couldn't help but beam. I hope I can properly convey how I feel. I'm not used to expressing happy emotions.

"Hehe, I did mean about the bath and everything, but it does make me happy to hear that."

"Oh, I feel very soft, yes. That too."

"Okay, that's good. And it didn't feel too difficult for you to do yourself next time, right? I'll still help you if you're getting used to it, but how do you feel about doing it yourself?"

"Hmm, I think it should be okay. It might be difficult, but I think I can do it. Do humans have to do this every day?"

"Not everyday. Well, I think Yuri does. But people usually shower more often than bathe since it's quicker. It's just easier to bathe you while you're sitting in a bath though. Eventually, I'll teach you to use the shower too, if you'd like."

"I'd like that..."

"Me too."

I burrowed deeper under the duvet and buried my head into the crook of her neck. In response, she rested her hand upon my head, gently playing with my soft hair.

I've missed this. So much.

I sighed happily, "Goodnight, owner."

I felt her smile above me. "Goodnight."

Didn't realise til now how much I loved the trope of someone who takes care of someone, who then repays them by taking care of them. ^^^^^^ Nameless watched over her when she was a child. But while she grew up, he stayed the same, and now is a child compared to her. Now she looks after himmmmmm 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[khanyisile-2]

Reflect on what you have learnt about client-centred practice.

Parker (2012) defines client centred practice as a collaborative partnership between the client and therapist, aiming to empower the client in engaging in functional activities and fulfilling their occupational roles across various environments. The client actively sets priority goals, guiding assessment, intervention, and evaluation, while the therapist listens, respects the client's values, adapts interventions, and supports informed decision-making throughout the process. In this reflective blog, I will discuss my experiences with client-centred intervention and the feedback received/relevant literature and research, and how these have contributed to my personal and professional growth. Additionally, what you will do differently (or the same) in the future.

Experiences with client-centered intervention have been transformative and rewarding, profoundly shaping my therapeutic approach. Prior to planning interventions, it is essential to inquire about the client's specific difficulties in daily living activities. This ensures that interventions are aligned with the client's current challenges. In my experience with a client, we collaboratively planned interventions to ensure they were client-centered and targeted the client's areas of difficulty. For instance, the client reported that she experienced the most difficulty in both activities of daily living (ADL) and instrumental activities of daily living (IADL).

 Consequently, our interventions focused primarily on addressing these areas. However, we initially prioritized ADL interventions before moving on to IADL activities. Due to time constraints, we were only able to engage in one session of IADL which was meal prepare (fruit salad). Reflecting on this experience underscores the importance of tailoring interventions to the client's specific needs and preferences. By actively involving the client in the planning process, I ensured that interventions were relevant and meaningful to her problems. This client-centered approach facilitated progress and fostered a collaborative therapeutic relationship, ultimately leading to positive outcomes.

The feedback received from the supervisor after each intervention has sharpened my learning experience significantly. For example, the supervisor provided feedback on the importance of providing clear demonstrations to the client, as this reduces confusion. This feedback assisted me in improving in my mid-term demo by providing clear instructions, which helped reduce confusion . Additionally, the supervisor provided feedback on the importance of being realistic with the client. For instance, it was noted that during a grooming session, asking the client to use both hands to brush her teeth was unrealistic.

This feedback allowed me to adjust interventions to better align with real-life scenarios, such as using one hand for brushing teeth. Supervisor also provided feedback on facilitating normal movement in the left hand by focusing on key points of control. This feedback prompted me to conduct research on effective techniques for facilitating movement, enhancing the quality of interventions. Overall, the feedback received from the supervisor, coupled with relevant literature and research, has been instrumental in refining therapeutic techniques and improving client-centered interventions. It highlights the importance of continuous learning and adaptation in providing effective client care.

The experiences with client-centered intervention and the feedback received from my supervisor have significantly contributed to both my personal and professional growth. On a personal level, these experiences have deepened my understanding of the importance of collaboration in therapeutic relationships. Engaging in client-centered interventions has allowed me to develop a greater sense of patience towards clients' challenges. For example, during a bathing activity session, a client became confused by the instructions provided. I patience repeated instructions until the client understood, providing physical cues to offer additional clarity. This experience highlighted the significance of being patience in fostering client understanding and comfort. Additionally, it has enhanced my communication skills. Clear and concise communication is vital in client-centered interventions to ensure clients comprehend tasks and feel supported throughout the process. These experiences have fostered self-reflection and continuous learning. Receiving feedback from my supervisor has prompted me to critically evaluate practice and identify areas for improvement such as improve in term of presenting of the activity and have a look of NDT techniques such as how to facilitate key point of control to the client to improve my personal growth.

Professionally, these experiences have shaped my therapeutic approach and enhanced my clinical skills. The feedback received from my supervisor has provided valuable insights into best practices and effective techniques for client-centered intervention. For example, in my mid-term demo, I used the feedback to provide clear demonstrations and one clear instruction to the client. This approach helped reduce confusion, as the client was less confused about what was expected. By incorporating this feedback into practice to further expand my knowledge, I have been able to refine therapeutic techniques and improve client outcomes. The combination of hands-on experiences with clients and constructive feedback from my supervisor has been instrumental in my growth as a therapist. It has strengthened my commitment to providing client-centered care and has equipped me with the skills and knowledge needed to effectively support individuals on their journey towards healing and recovery.

In the future, I will continue to prioritize client-centered practice in my therapeutic approach, recognizing its transformative impact on clients' well-being. I will uphold the importance of collaborative partnerships with clients, ensuring their active involvement in the planning and decision-making process. By fostering such collaborative therapeutic relationships, I aim to empower clients in achieving their goals and promoting their overall well-being. For example, I will plan to engage in discussions with clients about difficulties they experience. This collaborative approach will empower clients and foster a stronger therapeutic alliance. Building on the feedback received about being realistic with clients, I will pay closer attention to the practicality of interventions. This includes ensuring that the handling or presenting principles are realistic for the client. I will also continue to research and utilize evidence-based techniques to create interventions that are not only effective but also realistic and tailored to each client's unique needs.

Reflecting on my experiences with client-centered practice has been an enriching journey of personal and professional growth. Through collaborative partnerships with clients, tailored interventions, and ongoing feedback from my supervisor, I have deepened my understanding of the importance of patience, communication, and adaptation in therapy. These experiences have not only enhanced my clinical skills but also fostered self-reflection and continuous learning, prompting me to critically evaluate my practice and refine my approach. By incorporating feedback and engaging in relevant literature and research, I have been able to refine my therapeutic techniques and improve client outcomes.

I am committed to upholding the principles of client-centered practice, ensuring that interventions are tailored to each client's unique needs and preferences. I will continue to prioritize collaboration, patience, and empowerment in my therapeutic relationships, striving to provide effective and meaningful care to individuals on their journey towards healing and recovery. Overall, my experiences with client-centered practice have reinforced the importance of continuous learning and adaptation in providing effective client care, shaping my approach to therapy profoundly.

reference

Parker, D. (2012). AN EXPLORATION OF CLIENT-CENTRED PRACTICE IN OCCUPATIONAL THERAPY: PERSPECTIVES AND IMPACT. https://etheses.bham.ac.uk/id/eprint/4432/1/Parker13PhD.pd

[jolly-at-nite]

A Little Good. A Little bad, worst Anxiety.

O how gauntly, how relaxed. How poised, you even chuckled.

Yes, I am sleepy. Yes my eyes hurt, and they burn. And Yes, yesterday was a better day.

Yes, I did break down and cry in the car after my appointment. Yes, I did a good job at holding it in.

Yes, I was overwhelmed and anxiety ridden.

Yes, I've refrained from taking medication out of concern of the quality of my breastmilk.

Yes, I managed to pull myself out from the back seat to help you, after I asked you to help me by changing his diaper.

Yes, I fed him while he screamed and I struggled to normalize my breathing. Air would not stay in my lungs. Panic did.

Yes, last night I let you sleep again. You have to go to work, I need to make sure, you're the healthiest of the two.

I struggle to pump consistently. I still get milk. Less than when I first started but no matter its something I can have to myself. I can achieve with out help. It's mine.

2 am. I can't go any longer without sleep. I fed him an hour ago. He's still screaming and rooting. I pump. 30 ml. I'm happy.

Yes, I awoke you. I needed to. I could not go any longer. I tried.

I asked you to feed him. He is hungery. He is screaming. I show you the bottle. Purple lid. Smaller different from the pump bottle.

You feed him. I sleep. You wake me up, at 530 am. He is screaming. You ask if the breast milk is in the bottle, I hesitate.

Surely he doesn't mean the pump bottle from a day ago. The one he has obviously seen sitting there. It's the only bottle that's been sitting there with the pump attachments still on. Surely he knows that milk is expired and bad. Surely. Undoubtedly. I did doubt but I was sleepy and not mentally checked in completely.

I answer. It's the one in the bottle, the 30 ml one. The one I showed you like hours ago. The one that's completely different from the pump bottle in size. Not connected to pump accessories.

I go back to sleep wearily. Surely, undoubtedly.

You wake me up at 630. You leave for work. Our baby stirs. He coos. He whimpers. He is hungery. I mix a bottle. Formula. I notice the pump bottle empty, the accessories dismantled.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

My anxiety returns. I am riddled with it. I am consumed completely. Again.

I can't breathe. Is this real?

Yes I call you. I'm scared, hesitant and nervous. My stomach hurts. My muscles hurt. My heart hurts. I don't want to know. I need to know. Did you?

Yes, you did. You fed our 2 month old the expired breast milk that sat out. In plain view for you the entire length of the day.

The one that sat there while you used the bathroom. While you brushed your teeth. When you went in to throw away a dirty diaper. Thay was always there, in its obviously loud contraption of pumping.

Yes, you admit you fed him that one. You say you asked me. You asked me. Your love, who has gotten consistently 4 or less hours of sleep. The one who showed you the bottle measured out with the 30 ml of breast milk.

Yes, you say shrug it off. You even chuckle as you're driving down the road to your job. And now you have blessed me with the anxiety I wish I never had since birth and the one I never miss. The one that cripples my days and nights, my being.

The one I have cried to you about. You gave me that today. I will not sleep, how can I? I have to make sure our son is ok. Every twitch, every painful whimper or coo made in discomfort will terrorize my peace of mind. Every scream and every cry will freeze and conjure my panic into every fiber of my being.

And I have to go through this alone. Singular again in my panicked induced delirium, without sleep. Without rest, with all the heaviness of the long days and excruciating longer nights.

My right turned into a wrong.

[lilly-onthevalley]

A little tip for makeup

Ok hear me out, YouTube makeup is not for everyday and most of it doesn't look good in real life

As well as the fact that most beauty influencers use too much of the product which will lead you to use a lot as well which will make you buy more products in the long run

In my spare time I love to watch makeup artists doing makeup for runway models, you'll probably notice they never go full on Vincent van Gogh and paint all over the faces of their models.

They use small brushes and cover what's necessary with foundation and concealer. There is use of powders to finish the look and make it look uniform and soft.

My sister and I have a little joke we always say

" Never trust an influencer with a discount code "

Because at times they will use different products or too much of a product and lie to your face as to them they are worrying about how many of you use their code so they earn their keep.

In general, YouTube makeup is a big industry which depends on your desire to consume "the next big thing" and basically to sum up my point, they don't have your best interest in mind.

So now, where do we move on from that.

It's better to save up and buy good quality makeup brushes as those along with a good technique can make a drug store product look amazing on you.

As a person who has been doing art since they were a kid I can definitely say that 'the type of brush you use matters' is a phrase that is not limited to the painting world.

Sit with yourself and look at your face and go from there, find your own blush area, find your own look !

My makeup routine

On a normal day I moisturise my skin and apply a pressed powder. If I want to conceal any spots I use very small amounts of the Juvias Place stick foundation and concealer and go in with a contour stick lightly around my face.

I use a brown lip liner and go with a nude pink lipstick and blend it in on my lips till it looks almost natural.

I use a dip brow pomade to fill in my non existent eyebrows (😔) and I comb them with a clear mascara but remember I don't change my eyebrow shape or go overboard with it because the goal is natural but slightly enhanced.

The only thing unnatural about my makeup is my eyeliner, I have big upturned eyes so I tightline my eyes with a black pencil eyeliner and make a wing with liquid eyeliner and to finish the look I put on some black mascara to my lashes and use a blush stick around my eye-cheek area.

In all these I use small soft brushes I have collected from around the world

When I'm done I almost literally baptise myself in setting spray 😂.

That's it!

Keep in mind my makeup routine is for me, I'm pretty small in frame with a big head and big eyes so I go with the natural doll look, I'll link a video for makeup for the kibbe body types

I'm still figuring out the world of fake lashes but I'm yet to find success with my eye shape 😂

Here are some videos are like

💗

[captain-barnes-writes]

Addiction [1 / 2]

Summary: Lee Bodecker is fascinated by the young girl who works at her father’s store. 

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Warning: Age gap, language, mentions of alcoholism, sexual content, unprotected sex (y’all better wrap it in real life tho bc this is fiction.) SMUT. 18+

Word Count: 4k [NOT PROOFREAD. Any comments, tips, suggestions are greatly appreciated. My Ask Box is always open.] 

Lee Bodecker’s cruiser paraded through the town of Knockemstiff. He thought of how life had changed so much for him in the last few months. A man who was still in his lonesome at his age, caused by his extreme focus on his career, wasn’t blind to the fruits the small town had to offer. The more time passed, the prettier the girls got.

Vibrant sundresses, skirts that reached above the knee and them goddamn stockings. With the years the damn skirts and dresses only seemed to be inching up higher and higher up their legs. Most of the girls were timid under his presence. It was a good thing that they knew who he was and were more than well aware of the power he had.

Lee Bodecker was a crook sheriff in the solemn town; a menacing tormented man who most often than not drank his fair share of alcohol on a weekly basis. A lot of the time he was intoxicated with the moonshine he got from people he bribed. The alcohol always knocked him to otherworldly limits that helped him forget all that plagued him. It was his hidden secret, an unhealthy and disappointing one. A secret which he made sure to keep under wraps. Lee always had the election peering over him, taunting and glaring at him. He had to keep up with appearances.

Even with sore limbs, killer migraines and sunken eyes that didn’t want to see any light, he always made sure to clean the cruiser of any leftover canned beers and packs of cigarettes. He even tended to his own home as well, bagging the glass bottles and cans in black trash bags so as to not raise any suspicions. He was trying his best to stop, but it had become a habit that was hard to shake. Trying to kill one addiction had almost started another one, candies being the other culprit. Sweet little candies to quit the thoughts and yearning need for the arduous liquid that he’d come to rely on far too much.

But then there was another addiction he’d come to have for the past months. It was intoxicating but it wasn’t alcohol and sweet and tender but it wasn’t candies. The girl who worked at her father’s store at the center of town was the debilitating new type of obsession he’d come to have. Boyd Smith’s young daughter was as enticing as they came.

The store was small and slightly rundown, but had the necessities most people in Knockemstiff could need. People didn’t need much in the town anyway. But that girl was easy on the eyes and she wasn’t even aware of it. By far the prettiest in the godforsaken town and probably the whole state. Heck, Lee thought her to be the most beautiful on fucking earth. She managed to tug at his heartstrings in such a way nobody had been able to. Not in a long time, anyway.

When she first spoke to him, an actual conversation, she’d told him “stop eating so many candies, sheriff. You’re gonna get cavities.” And Lee had let out a loud laugh, though it hadn’t met his eyes as if the words she’d said had hit a nerve. They had, but he couldn’t admit it. Regardless the soothing tone of her voice, sweet and delicate, had reeled him in even further.

He visited the store so often, knowing when exactly her father would take his day off. Which were starting to climb up seeing as Boyd enjoyed gambling and drinking his fair share as much as Lee and would leave his daughter to tend to the store more often than not. So she’d be there in her most lonesome tending to her father’s store. He looked forward to seeing her doe eyes and skim his eyes about her gentle frame.

He often found himself wondering what she’d be wearing on days he visited. Being the daughter of a store owner meant that money wasn’t much of a problem for her family, and she seemed to be able to feed her affinity for pretty clothes. He always anticipated what she’d be wearing. Y/N usually wore pastel colored dresses, those pretty sundresses that reached just above the knee. The thin material at times clung to her body on the back giving way to the full bottom she was blessed with and Lee felt himself hardening just at the sight of her alone. He wanted nothing more than to tear the material off her and savor the innocence she oozed.

That day when she first spoke to him, he felt even more drawn to her. The delectable taste of the bonbons he’d stop to buy were of no comparison to her. Lee was either salivating or mouth dry like a desert at the mere sight of the store owner’s daughter.  On that day when she’d uttered those words to him in hopes of alleviating the rather quiet environment, he had placed the money on her hands to pay for the pack of candies as well as a pack of beers. Their fingers brushed and Y/N had almost shuddered.

“I’m gonna have to find myself a new addiction so that doesn’t happen then.” Lee responded. His eyes had met hers and a gleam of mischievousness and mockery were swirling in them. She swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling small under the presence of the town’s sheriff.

Y/N looked at him. Like really looked at him and noticed things she hadn’t before. For instance, the way his eyes were the color of the town’s nearby lake, a sparkling blue, and when he didn’t have a scowl on his face he actually looked handsome. Crinkles at the end of his eyes showed his age, and even with the soft protruding belly he was actually easy on the eyes.

Y/N blushed under his piercing stare, proceeding to count the change aloud and handed it back to him in a clumsy manner.

“One fifty is your change, sheriff. Thank you.”

“No, thank you darlin’. I’ll stop by another day.” Lee countered, voice heavy as his orbs continued their arduous stare on the girl who couldn’t tear her own eyes away from his. She was flushed, a color that suited her so well with the baby blue sundress she wore. He wanted nothing more than to take her on the back of his cruiser and fuck her into submission.

Despite all his bad qualities, the dominance he liked to have, he wanted her to want it too. What was the fun in fucking somebody who didn’t want it? No, he wanted her dainty hands on him. For her to run them through his hair, grip it as she was a breathy broken mess beneath him. He yearned for her lips to moan his name, for her tightness to grip him like a damn vice. Just one look at her and he knew he was done for.

Lee started visiting the store more often. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. She’d be there with her pastel dresses, behind the counter tending to customers in a manner that let him know he couldn’t be the only one thinking of her this way. She was too pure, too celestial to only have one man pining over her. And he was right. He wasn’t the only man looking at her with hungry eyes. There were plenty of them who’d show up at the store throwing flirty comments at her and she’d try her best to deflect them. She’d do so gracefully with shy smiles, an airy laugh while waving them away.

Lee had been there when men approached her in the same manner he did, flirtatiously and with no good intentions. He observed how she’d suddenly become nervous, dropping change on the floor and sputtering out a few sorry’s as she scrambled down to get it from the floor. She’d smile at her suitors, not knowing how to keep them away. How to say no. So when Lee was there, he’d clear his throat loudly and tell them to move along. No more needed to be said, the men would scramble away from the store at the mere words from the sheriff. They were scared of him and the immense influence the town’s sheriff carried just at the tip of his fingers. Lee boasted his power in front of Y/N wanting nothing more than to impress her. He was no longer in his 20s, no longer the slim figure he had 15 years prior, but he’d obtained something that was worth showing off: the power of being an elected official and the town’s sheriff.

Y/N would express her graciousness with a bashful grin and a small thanks would leave her lips, along with a few offerings of free candy or even a pack of cigarettes. She was young, no more than twenty. It was normal for girls her age to have suitors lining up, but she wasn’t an ordinary girl. This was the girl the sheriff was pining over. He was completely and utterly taken by her and he hadn’t even tasted her yet.

Lee wanted more than anything to be the one who clouded the girl’s thoughts. He wanted him to be the first thing she thought of every morning and the very last thought at the end of the night. His own thoughts were consumed by the store owner’s daughter. Her beauty was amplified by the tenderness in which her tone of voice took when she spoke. The way her hair crowned her face so perfectly and the smile lines which took upon her pretty face with a simple little grin. She was addicting and he wanted her so badly. He wanted her as bad as a drop of alcohol.

For Y/N, or any girl her age, it was an honor to be on the receiving end of the sheriff’s admiration. The piercing blue orbs watching with intent, body language screaming that he was taken with her. The way he was an asset to the town, an important one that kept order, that took care of people like her. That warded off danger. She’d be crazy to overlook him and his clear feelings for her.

At first she’d been slightly put off at his constant visits to the store. Sometimes just to buy a single pack of candy. At times he wouldn’t even buy anything. He’d stare at her, initiate conversations that diverted to different topics as if he didn’t want to stop hearing her voice. As if her voice was the only sound he wanted to hear. At times the voice coming from his radio would be the only thing that’d get him to leave the store. He’d huff loudly, bark back an answer, tip his broad-brimmed hat back on his head and wave goodbye to her.

But it wasn’t long until he’d crawled his way into her heart. A slow process that took many months. Gained her trust with conversation and his way of sweet talking. Expensive chocolates and bouquets of roses he’d gone out of town to get would make their way into her hands whenever he’d visit her, almost always finding himself at the right hour when the store was at its most desolate. Just her and him. The beautiful girl was driving him insane, she was slow to give into him. Her shyness a tough barrier to break.

The town would whisper about it. The sheriff wants Boyd’s daughter. The many visits had made their rounds in people’s mouths and being the small town that it was. The townspeople noticed the black cruiser more and more at the front of the store, parked there for more than half an hour at times. And they became suspicious because what could take so long in the small store? It was cramped and only had minimal supplies.  All of Knockemstiff was talking about it in a secretive manner. They didn’t want to feel the sheriff’s wrath, didn’t want to light the anger in his eyes. But they knew. Knew that whatever his intentions were with the young girl, he was sure to get her. He was persistent and always got what he wanted.

Those many visits to the store turned into driving her home at nights. Though it was only a couple blocks from the town center, he still insisted on doing it. A girl like you could get kidnapped on these streets doll, Lee would tell her. He couldn’t believe her father would pick gambling with his friends over picking his own daughter up. She deserved to be cared for, tended to in the best way possible. He wanted to be that man for her; someone she relied on. Someone she could come to love.

At least the one thing her father did right was having her lock up the place early when she was in charge of the store. By 7:30 pm, she’d switch the sign to closed and begin the process of cleaning and making sure everything was tidy to open up the next day. Lee would wait outside for her in his car, smoke puffing from his lips as he took drags from his cigarette. When he would see her coming out, the thin material of her dress swaying with the wind and giving way to the smoothness of her legs, he’d close his eyes to gain control of himself and throw the cigarette outside. She never said she didn’t like the smell, never even made a comment about it as the scent lingered in the car, yet he still cared and wanted to be on his best behavior with her.

The drives to her home would take detours to diners, coffee shops and even to different towns as he felt so enthralled by her presence. He wanted nothing more than be able to spend hours with her. She didn’t even have to touch him, didn’t have to kiss him, but a simple gaze from her had his heart beating erratically. When she began talking to him more, not just waiting for him to continue the conversation, he felt the effect she had on him even more. He felt bewitched, as if the girl was his only sanity. It wasn’t the alcohol, it wasn’t the sugary sweets. It was the tenderness of her voice, her gentle frame and her doe eyes.

It also wasn’t long until she was sinking down onto the length of his cock on the back of his cruiser. She slid down in such slow motion with a heartbreaking guttural moan. Her virgin cunt wrapping him in such tightness his breath had hitched and eyes rolled in ecstasy. Her perky breasts right at his face and he’d taken a hold of them with his lips. Ran his tongue on the brown nipples.

“It hurts, Lee.” Y/N cried softly onto his shoulder. Pitiful tears landing on his clothed shoulder. The poor girl was wincing at the intrusion inside her. Lee deeply regretted taking her this way, her on top of him on the back of his damn cruiser. This wasn’t the place for a girl like her to lose her virginity. Hell, it  wasn’t the place for any girl to lose their virginity. The seats were uncomfortable and movements were limited with the small space.

“I’m sorry darlin’. Fuck.” Lee cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside the tightness of her walls. She was incredibly tight and he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold on for much longer. He wanted to piston his hips against her sweet place, fuck her until she was crying. But she was already crying on his shoulder and it wasn’t even out of pleasure.

She stayed there for a couple seconds, trying to recover herself while being bombarded with sinful thoughts as she sat on his length. She was able to get a hold of herself, feeling a little better with the sheriff’s large hand drawing soothing circles on her bare back. His pink lips were against hers in soft kisses that had her head swirling. The taste of alcohol present on his tongue was a strong comparison to her minty mouth. Him, so imperfect and troubled. Her, innocent and pure. She picked her head up again. Her doe eyes found him in the darkness of the cruiser, the abandoned lot a few minutes out of town was desolate and dark.

Without any warning, her lower body elevated just slightly and came back down again. Lee let out a shaky breath and his hands had immediately slid down to the smooth skin of her ass, fingers marking the fullness of it. She was a mess above him, mouth hanging open with the sweetest moans falling loose. She began to slowly sink down on him again, building a tortuous movement of raising herself up and coming back down. The pain was still present but the sight of the sheriff being patient and not forcing her to move had been incentive enough for her to push the aching pain away. He was already inside her anyways, her chastity a thing of the past.

Lee’s strong hand grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck and pushed their lips together. She was still adjusting to him, moving slow to his standards, so he wanted to control at least one area of the sinful acts that were taking place. His kiss was rough and messy. His teeth took hold of her plump bottom lip and bit it until she shrieked into his mouth. Her dainty hands fisted at his hair.

The movements of her hips were reluctant and inexperienced. The flow of them slow, faltering even at the discomfort of the intrusion. The prodding inside her still stung and her eyes shut tightly when his cock hit a spot inside her that made her feel weak. Lee noticed and the hold on her ass tightened as brought her down at a faster pace. He wanted to fuck her so hard she would see stars on the roof of the cruiser, but she was still visibly aching.

Lee’s lips traveled down her jaw, kissing her there just slightly to bring any comfort to her, before they made their way to the valley of her breasts. She was bare, the baby yellow dress had been unbuttoned and thrown on the floor carelessly. She was unbelievably soft. Skin so delicate and smooth, breasts and ass etched with white stretch marks. His babygirl was so divine and heavenly and he’d just taken her innocence, her purity, on the back of his cruiser.

He was a bastard for not taking her to his home. On his bed. But this had been so sudden, a date to the outskirts of a different town had turned into them kissing like their lives depended on it. He’d conveniently found the empty lot and he couldn’t wait any longer, feeling as if he didn’t bury himself inside her he would explode.

His hips had began to lift themselves off the cold backseat meeting hers in the middle. She was reduced to a string of breathy moans; a beautiful mess before him. His dick was enveloped in her folds, bathing in her sweet juices. The sounds of drenched skin slapping against one another, loud and stained. The air inside the car was stuffy and lingered with the smell of their arousal. He felt like he’d come any second as he felt the familiar sensation building inside him.

“I want to put a baby right in here.” Lee’s hand stopped at her belly, the skin soft and warm. He was already crazy for her. With a single taste of her and he wanted more. He could picture his girl’s belly huge with his baby growing inside her. Maybe that would get him to stop craving the taste of alcohol, to stop wanting to replace his addiction with candies. He wanted her to be his only sane addiction.

Y/N stuttered at his words. Her eyes had widened and hands gripped his shoulders at the rapid movements of his hips. She was rendered silent as her mind swirled with the possibility of carrying Lee Bodecker’s baby. She didn’t know what to think of it. Girls her age were already carrying babies, married even.

But the townspeople chastised and judged those girls who gave away the very thing that made them good in the eyes of the lord, their savior, and she had done just that. Given away the one thing she’d held onto for more than two decades, cherished it, boxed it off and wrote it off for somebody whom she’d marry. The preacher of her church called it a “gift”, a mere pseudonym, and apparently a more appropriate and contained word, for a girl’s virginity. In her town, chastity from girls, taking care of that one gift for a nice man who would care for them was an important thing. But for Y/N, it was too late to look back.

“You heard me, darlin’?” Lee quipped again, hand grasping her jaw to get her to look at him. His azure eyes were laced with lust, swirling with it as his cock hit her sweet spot again and again. What could she say when he was taking the pain away and replacing it with delicious ecstasy?

“Yes, Lee.” She moaned loudly. A foreign heat had pooled in her stomach, the pistoning of his dick inside her driving her closer to a delirious state. Y/N was bouncing on him with his help and she couldn’t help but look at the man whom she’d grown to be fond of for the last few months. Fond was probably not the right term, but she’d only even kissed a boy before and it had been her senior year of high school, so long ago she didn’t even know what she was feeling. It was immeasurable. The grown man whose advances had made hordes of butterflies swirl in her stomach, made her breath quicken and at the sight of him her heart swelled.

“I’m gonna cum inside that sweet pussy of yours.” His words were foul, hips faltering as he felt the tightness of her cunt constricting the living daylights out of him. She had broken down before him, body spasming as an orgasm ripped through her in shocking waves.

“Oh my god oh my god.” She breathed out loudly, her folds seizing him in a shuddering way. Gripping so tight he couldn’t help but come only a mere seconds after her. His hips jolted, climax hitting him with such strength it had forced a string of curse words from his mouth. His cum seeped inside her like ribbons, painting her walls with his warm seed.

When they rode out their high, bodies covered in salty sweat and breathing somewhat steady, Lee grabbed her face and brought their lips together in another kiss. It was short and wet, his tongue swiping against hers. When he pulled away, he looked at the odd expression etched on her face.

“What am I gonna tell my daddy, sheriff?” She asked softly. Brows furrowed in worry. “It’s so late.”

“Your daddy doesn’t give a damn. He’s probably drunk off his ass while gambling.” Lee bit. He was right about her father, he was most likely drunk or gambling. Probably both. Lee was gonna take care of his girl now. Claim her. He had already taken her most precious gift anyway.

He wasn’t going to fuck her on the back of a cruiser. She didn’t belong there, not tainting the backseat of his car, not in an abandoned parking lot. The next time he fucked her he was going to plow into her on his bed. In his house. Because that’s where her sweetness belonged; tangled in his covers, a moaning mess beneath him. She should’ve been waiting for him to come home from a long day of work, arms out steady for him to fall on, lips ready to take his. She was more addicting than glasses of moonshine, more so than candy. Intoxicatingly beautiful, sweet and innocent.

“You’re mine now darlin.”

----

hope y'all enjoy lol I actually liked writing this so might make a second part. Who knows 💀🥴

Dividers can be found here by @writeyourmindaway. Ty!

[familyagrestefanblog]

Theory for “Gabriel Agreste”

Saying that I'm EXCITED for this episode is an understatement, I'm THRILLED! So let me give you my speculation for what could happen in it and how it’ll affect the future, because pieces are literally just falling into place in my brain and I just have to write this down.

The episode is called" Gabriel agreste" because in this episode Gabriel will create a (long time) Sentimonster for himself that'll take his place and cover for him in his civilian life while he himself gets completely swallowed by his Hawkmoth/ShadowMoth identity (which is a direct paralell to the fate Marinette just escaped by telling Alya her secret). He doesn't want to "waste" anymore unnecessary time by having to NOT be Hawkmoth, which then completely separates him from Adrien who very much was one of the last (if not THE LAST at this point) few strings that kept him grounded in his humanity.

The episode takes place right before the middle of the season and since it's season 4 we are talking about here its fair to assume that both Adrien and Gabriel are back at (at least) suspecting each other to be Chat Noir and Hawkmoth again at some point. Adrien is going to be even more rebellious after the status quo break and set up of "Lies" so him maybe (or maybe even confirmed already to Gabriel) to be Chat Noir could definitely be the factor that sets Gabriel over the edge, rips these two apart for good (as I foresaw in my analysis of "Jackady") and brings Gabriel to distance himself altogether while covering his own identity from his son by creating a Sentimonster (bc Adriens secret being discovered by his evil family is already forshadowed to hell and back, just like him ending up getting Homeschooled again this season, mark my words)

---

"Queen Banana" is supposed to take place right before "Gabriel Agreste" and we have a leak where it's seen that Adrien is now kinda taking on Nathalies role since she is (supposedly) still bed ridden.

Seriously, just humour me here and stay with me. This would mean that Adrien would get to see and interact with his father much more often and Gabriel wouldn't be able to ditch everything and turn into Hawkmoth as easily as he was able to with Nathalie.

A cover up Sentimonster was actually already kinda forshadowed in "Party Crasher"

by introducing HoloGabe with the intention of providing Gabriel with alibis and to attend meetings etc for him in the future so Gabriel can invest more time into being Hawkmoth. But a Hologramm is not suitable for every occasion, which is where the Sentimonster comes into play.

At first Adrien wouldn't notice much off about his father and the few things he notices Adrien actually doesnt mind. If SentiGabe is really supposed to replace Gabriel as... Well, Gabriel, that also means as a FATHER and my money is on SentiGabe being created to be a better father than the original. SentiGabe does everything Adrien wanted his father to do in s1-s3: Join Adrien at dinner time, spend more time with him, is in general in better of a mood and not such an unpleasant dick and so on and so on.

Easy to say, Adrien basically welcomes the good change he always wanted in his "Father" with open arms and chooses to ignore things that seem suspicious and the always remaining gut feeling of something just being... off. This will collide with the unveiling of more of the family (+ Emilie) mystery which will for Adrien all continue to point at Gabriel as Hawkmoth because of one event that is likely to happen in episode 4.

I'm currently writing on yet another post about this topic in particular, so I will link it HERE for elaboration once I post it, but in short, I think Rena Rouge and the Grimoire secrets Marinette shears with Alya could be the catalyst of Adrien suspecting his father to be Hawkmoth again.

Adriens memories of the time he went through the Grimoire himself in "Volpina" would be triggered again after seing the Grimoire page Rena (honestly, quite recklessly) brings along into battle and from then on things will slowly pile up until Gabriel deflects from himself with SentiGabe in "Gabriel Agreste" (just like he did in “The Collector”)

People WAY to easily forget how ready and serious Adrien was in "The Collector" when he actually concidered his father to be Hawkmoth.

Keep in mind that Ladybug was only able to tell Chat Noir the weakest reasons of her suspicion against Gabriel (while the Grimoire being Guardian property was NEVER found out by Adrien... til NOW) that being Gabriels mysterious personality and the butterfly logo of his brand.

These arguments are weak because they are ONLY actually suspicious in the specific context of Gabriel being Hawkmoth. Once you have proof against that they hardly hold any ground anymore, hence why both Adrien AND Marinette so easily brushed off these points after seeing Gabriel akumatized. I mean, excuse a designer for choosing a BUTTERFLY as his logo when his last name is literally the name of a butterfly type. The fuck kind of accusation is that??

So I hope you understand that when I say that, yes, these reasons DID trigger further memories/realizations for Adrien in that moment

It simply was only the tip of the iceberg.

The fact that Adrien not only gave Ladybug the fucking benefit of a doubt and heared her out about accusing his FATHER of being HAWKMOTH and took it THAT seriously and wanted to find out if his father truly IS Hawkmoth means that Adrien very much sees his father as capable of being Paris villain Nr 1. This... understanding and acceptance of Gabriels nature already had to be in Adrien much prior to "the collector" to set it off like this. And while normally Adrien chooses to turn a blind eye towards his fathers bad qualities in favor of seeing Gabriels redeeming (and even the rare somewhat GOOD) qualities, Adrien only does so because he thinks Gabriel hasn't crossed the line yet that makes his father undeserving of these loving conciderations. But Gabriel being Hawkmoth IS CROSSING that line for Adrien and he immediately sets aside his remaining/choosen love for his heavily flawed father and willingly sees Gabriel for what he is.

Adrien already did it once with only a few somewhat solid reasons and the Grimoire being kept secret from him altogether,

So he will do it again, just this time the proofs and developments are supposed to stay for good.

---

This development would not only be forshadowed by "the collector"

But also by the episode "Ladybug". There Mayura used a Sentimonster version of Ladybug against Chat Noir, using their love against him. What she didn't know though was that Ladybug actually isn't in love with her partner (yet) which ended up with Chat Noir being put in the situation of having to decide which Ladybug he believes to be real.

Does he believe and hold onto Sentibug who returns the love he so desperately seeks in life or does he let go of his hopeful wish and accept the heartbreaking reality of once again not receiving his love in return from yet another person he holds so dear?

In "Ladybug" Adrien couldn't make that crushing decision yet (and don't clown in the replies about this, not only was the situation vastly different it's also a cruel thing to ask of Adrien) but as we are used from Miraculous by now, that episode was only the set up for future events.

What Adrien couldn't let himself believe about Ladybug and Sentibug he will have to FORCE himself to accept about his Father and Hawkmoth. Same set-up of the Sentimonster symbolising Adriens desperate and hopeful WISH what his loved one were vs the crushing, heart wrenching reality of what his loved ones actually ARE. Just that letting go of his wish for Ladybugs love didnt seem "necessary enough" for the mission to succeed so he just couldn't MAKE himself give her up whereas accepting and seeing that his father is Hawkmoth is going to be one of the most crucial sacrifices of the show, changing the game forever. So as horrible, cruel and soul shattering as this is, putting an end to his fathers villainous reign for the sake of the greater good is a reason worthy enough to force himself through his pain.Which brings us once again back to “The collector” (which seriously forshadows almost everything I love that episode), because there is ONE major aspect that episodes sets up like crazy

And that is:

And thats where we are heading now.

This entire time Adrien wanted his Father to behave more fatherly, spend more time with him and improve his explosive behavior but he always got disappointed over and over again. So how heartbreaking would it be if over the course of the second half of the season THIS would be the very reason why Adrien gets behind Gabriels secret? Because SentiGabe behaved too fatherly for Adrien to truly buy it in his heart and when forced to decide what he actually believes his father to be - like the fatherly Sentimonster or the villainous Hawkmoth - Adrien has to and WILL recognize and accept his fathers true nature and turn against him, as it has been set up for a LONG time now.

This season shit’s about to go DOWN!

[yesimwriting]

Tranquility

A/n about time i wrote something for my privateer,, my love, Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: You and Nikolai are masters of being a couple without actually dating, and the only thing threatening that is the way Nikolai gets after having a nightmare. 

--

Tranquility. So rare for a world on the cusp of war. I guess that’s what the difference between a world at war and a world only boarding on it, the occasional glimmers of goodness, peace. I shift cautiously, careful to not disturb Nikolai. He is tranquility, especially in the few moments in which he allows himself to rest. Not long ago, I found his trips to my bed in the middle of the night strange. But now I only think of the oddness of it when I can’t fall asleep and I find myself enjoying the peaceful lull of his even breaths more than I should. I think a lot of things we do are more indulgent than they should be. 

Nikolai only comes to visit me when the bags under his eyes become noticeable and his humor falls flatter than normal. I tell myself he takes my comfort because he trusts me to some extent and I give it to him willingly when he seeks it. I’m not fully innocent. I take his peace, his touch and warm sentiments, when they are offered to me. But now I’m bordering on something else. Something much more devastating. 

This isn’t something I can afford to think about, to weigh on. Not now when war is on its way and Nikolai already has so much to worry about. Perhaps I’ll mention this to Alina and she’ll manage to give me some type of perspective, but that isn’t something I should do now. When the world has ended or is made safe, then I will sort through the significance of the way my heart stalls or speeds up for him and him alone. 

I should just try to fall asleep again. If I do, when I wake up again Nikolai will either already be gone because of his duties or he’ll make some kind of joke about how fortunate I am to wake up to such a sight before trying to coax me back to bed. I shouldn’t want that.

Ugh. He’s so pretty, I hate it. It’s unfair--one cannot expect someone to have someone like Nikolai dote on them, playfully or otherwise, and not catch some type of connection. Even in sleep, with his golden hair disheveled, parted lips, and fluttering eyelids he’s unfairly attractive. I sigh, the irony of the situation twisting my stomach--if he knew my thoughts his ego would bask in them. 

As if he can feel my conflict, his defined eyebrows draw together, his placid expression turning harsh. I tense, watching as that look only hardens. Is he...okay? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had some kind of nightmare. Nikolai’s lips press together, and then he makes a noise. A sad, discomforted sigh. 

The remnants of my drowsiness disappear at that. I place a hand on his shoulder thoughtlessly, shaking him once. “Nikolai.” I keep my voice low and soft. His expression stays hard, “Wake up, it’s not…” He lets out another broken sound. I shake him a little more determinedly. “It’s not real.” 

Nikolai’s eyelids flutter once more, and he’s pushing himself upwards, sitting up and breathing harshly. My hand falls off his shoulder, but I think it’s better this way. He needs space to realize that he’s safe. 

Taking two shallow breaths, Nikolai turns his head. I watch him carefully, resisting the instinctual urge to help him, to comfort him and chase away the darkness that wants to engulf him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is so fragile a part of me doesn’t recognize it as his. 

I nod my head once, folding my hands in my lap to avoid reaching for him. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.” 

His gaze flits from my face to the ruffled blankets draped over me. He’s silent and still. Two things he should never be for a long period of time. Nikolai shifts slowly, as if still trapped in a daze. I let his hand take mine from my lap and pull it towards him. He squeezes my hand once, bringing my knuckles to his lips. I inhale sharply as he exhales, warm breath burning my skin. And then his lips brush against each knuckle. I let him, fighting not to let myself be reduced to a puddle. 

Nikolai lifts my hand, coaxing my palm open before placing it on his cheek. I brush my thumb down his cheek. He lets out a breath, the sound is soft yet it leaves my heart raw. 

I don’t say anything as he moves his hand down my arm, fingertips leaving my skin electrically charged as he always does. He pauses once his hand is on my shoulder. I let him grip me harder than I normally would. It feels like I am an anchor, weighing him in place so that the dark cannot take him away from me. 

My lips part, but I have no words to offer him, not when I don’t know the extent of his torment. Nikolai’s hand brushes past the sleeve of my nightgown and across my collarbone. I swallow once, dropping my gaze to avoid the sharpness of the look he’s giving me. 

“You’re heavy sometimes,” I keep my voice low, “I wish I could--” 

“You do,” his voice leaves no room for argument. The tone is filled with a tension that he has never used on me. “You do everything.” 

“And you are everything.” His expression softens at my words. It feels like a reward in a way. 

Nikolai moves forward, the bed makes a noise as he rustles the sheet. I don’t bother asking what he’s doing. He’s always touchier than usual after a nightmare, breaking even more social rules than normal. I let him place his head in the crook of my neck while ignoring the warmth that pushes itself into my chest as he adjusts himself against me. I hesitate before placing my hand on his back even though I know he’d never reject me. He lets out a breath at the additional contact, adjusting himself so that he’s even more against me. I move my hand up and down his back.

The urge to ask him about what his dreams are about bubbles in my chest, but I ignore it. If he wanted to speak about it, he would. 

“Things are easier with you.” His voice is so delicate it’s almost hard to bear. His hand presses into my side and my breathing stiffens as a result.“I’m glad you’re here.” 

I meet his gaze as he tilts his head upwards. “Of course I am, how could I ever resist someone as wonderful as you?”

The corner of Nikolai’s lips tug upwards, a sign that he appreciates my attempt at humor. “You’re not wrong, darling.” I roll my eyes as he grins, ignoring the way my stomach tightens as he presses his face into my shoulder to hide his amusement. “You’re the wonderful one.” 

I smile slightly, sarcastic retort dying in the back of my throat as something in Nikolai shifts. His eyes have taken on a simple, dark quality. I’ve seen this tension in him before, but I’ve never understood it. Nikolai tilts his head slightly, regarding me with more intensity than I know how to deal with. He shifts closer until I can feel his breath on the edge of my jaw. And then I feel his lips brush against skin. Testing, cautious. I don’t move. He must take this as a good sign because he then presses his lips further up my jaw. Again and again, always gentle, always fragile--always more welcomed than it should be. 

I close my eyes, indulging in the feel of his touch, and then I feel him touch my cheek. The contact is feather light as my eyes flutter open. He’s close in a different way now, lips two centimeters away from mine. 

This means nothing to him, this is nothing to him. It is just a way to push through pain he refuses to share with me. “Nikolai.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. “Nikolai…” A little stronger, he pauses, face a centimeter from my face. 

“Y/n.” My name is soft grace on his lips. 

My eyes shut. “You can’t--you can’t kiss me just because you need to be distracted.” 

His eyebrows draw together and then he straightens. The distance between us leaves me colder than before. “Do you really think that?” 

I press my lips together. “We should just go back to sleep--” 

“Y/n,” he sighs once, “Is that what you think?” 

I stare at the blankets, gripping the fabric. “Does it matter?” 

“Yes.” His voice is hard, losing all touches of irony. “It matters.” I stay silent, avoiding Nikolai’s gaze. “Out of all the reasons I want to kiss you, being distracted isn’t even on the list.” 

My head snaps in his direction. What is he implying? “What?” 

“Y/n,” his hand is on my arm, warm and tempting, “I want to kiss you because when you smile it feels like all the bad goes away. I want to kiss you because you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking and then that’s the only thing I can think about. I want to kiss you for the same reason I come to your room whenever I want to rest. You’re my tranquility.” My eyes soften at his words, my mind racing at the implications of them. “You’re biting your lip again, darling, and it’s torture.” 

On instinct, my lips part slightly. He doesn’t move closer or farther away. I exhale slowly, trying to push away the electric current the potential of this moment is stirring. Nikolai’s hand moves up my arm and settles on my cheek. 

His thumb brushes against my cheek, making me melt. “I want to kiss you because when I’m with you all of the bad, all of the uncertainty disappears.” 

Nikolai leans forward slightly, breath warm near my skin. “Is that all?” 

If his touch wasn’t so enticing I’d roll my eyes at such a blatant attempt to get a compliment. But his touch is all consuming, especially when he moves to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “No--you’re also ridiculously enticing, but something tells me you don’t need me to add to your ego.” 

He grins, shifting impossibly closer before finally letting his lips meet mine. The contact is everything I’ve ever needed, his lips warm and inviting and eager. I kiss him back easily, melting into him like that’s where I’ve always belonged. Nikolai pulls away slowly, drawing out the kiss and letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

“For the record, you’re the only ego boost I need.” He smiles lazily, hand not leaving my cheek. “You’re my peace, y/n,” he exhales flatly, “Please remember that.” 

There’s something strangely sleepy yet revered about his tone. “Of course I will,” I hum, letting him rest his head against my chest, “You’re my peace, too.” 

“Sometimes when I dream I see you and then I lose you.” Nikolai’s tone leaves my heart sore as he adjusts against me. 

“You’re not losing me,” I whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He exhales gently. “Get some sleep--you never get enough rest.” 

He squeezes me once, pressing a quick kiss to my collar. “Whatever you want.” 

I half roll my eyes, too tired to to call him out on his teasing, the lull of sleep strengthened only by the weight of him against my chest. 

 --

general tag list: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[fenristheorem]

Lance: Dragon Headcanons

A staple mark in Lance’s character is his dragon genetics, and I have a lot of headcanons regarding this, so I figured I'd write about this while I have it in mind. A lot of these probably aren’t canon at all, mainly just me rambling away about what I'd like to see, but I think they're still pretty interesting regardless. 

~Do note: Lance is going to be a bit more feral than usual in this one (this is discussing his dragon side, after all), and many of these are going to be romantic. Combine feral and romantic and you get something along the lines of NSFW. It’s not exactly NSFW, but this post certainly isn’t clean, either. This is really only a concern near the end of the post.

~ Under the cut ~

It’s known that in a partially transformed state, Lance’s mother - Tia - has a tail, scales on certain parts of her body, makeshift claws (technically they’re just filed down nails, at least that’s what I’ve read in certain descriptions), and a few other dragon-like features, but since this post reflects my own headcanons I want to add on to and alter that. 

In my headcanons, dragons in a partially transformed state have tails, as well as wings, real claws (not nails, it’s like an extension of the bones that turn into claws), scales in certain areas, and can actually transform to the point where their limbs are more dragon-like the further away from the body it is. They can also control exactly what features appear when they partially transform, but only to some extent. There’s either a full human appearance, or a full dragon appearance, and in the middle there’s a small range of partially transformed traits that they can choose to display; like having the claws, tail, and scales, but no wings, or limiting the amount of scales on their body while having the other traits appear fully. I imagine controlling their transformations is like a muscle; the more they work with it, the more control they have (which is already sort of canon since Valk admitted he wasn’t as strong as Lance because he didn’t practice as much when they were younger), and they can control a fine selection of which traits are active and when.

From that; dragons - like many other living creatures - have their own distinct scents, and with that there are scent glands (there’s a lot of reptiles that don’t have scent glands I think, but also some that do, and since dragons can shift between a reptilian and mammal form I like to imagine that they do have scent glands). In nearly any state, dragons’ scent glands are a lot like a cat’s and are placed in the same areas as their scales when they’re partially transformed; around the mouth, on the cheekbones, the neck, genitals, and a few places on their torso, chest, and arms. In their complete dragon form these locations are primarily the same, but since their anatomy is a bit different, there may be other locations with scent glands as well. These glands work partially with releasing their natural scent, but for the most part they’re also used for scent marking. Again like a cat, dragons can rub off their scent on objects and people by rubbing their scent gland scales across something.

Because of this, Lance may have a small tendency to brush himself against his partner... a lot, especially if he’s partially or fully transformed. It’s common for him to be laying with his partner and begin to repeatedly rub the side of his face against any part of her, but he especially prefers around her face, neck, or chest, and this is usually disguised as aggressive nuzzling. He can do this at random moments through out the day as well; when he suddenly comes up behind her and takes her in his arms and nuzzles into her neck, at night when he pulls her close and accidentally wakes her up just to rub against her, or even if they’re showering together and Lance wants to remark his territory because the water is washing his scent off.

For this reason, he probably doesn't like his partner wearing heavy perfumes or anything that can disguise his - and her - natural scent.

If his partner allows this scent marking to be a commonplace thing, they can find this becoming a habit for him even when he isn’t transformed, and he especially likes when his partner willingly touches his scales - even if just to feel the textures again. Along with that, his partner may make it a habit to brush herself against him; acting as though she’s scent marking him, or just brushing against him so that his scent rubs off on her more. Since dragons probably follow some set of instincts (like any other living creature, even humans), Lance’s partner ‘scent marking’ him is probably incredibly endearing to him, as not only does it mean that she accepts his instinctual nature, but it also shows that she wants to take part in it too.

On the topic of instincts, I image dragons to be incredibly feral and impulsive in at least some basic ways, specifically with some forms of communication and relationships (no matter if it’s romantic or not), so body language may be a major way of communication with him some days. Of course, he’ll still actually talk to other people, but if he’s having a day where he’s just really not in the mood to talk but he needs to communicate with his partner in basic ways, he may revert back to a relatively feral form of communication: body language. Everyone and all species display things through body language, so it would make sense for Lance to rely on speaking with his partner through body language when he’s not in the mood to talk, but he’ll probably use other basic sounds like huffs, grunts, groans, and growls to relay things more clearly since his partner may not be as fluent as he is with this type of communication. 

On these days, she can expect to come back to their room at night and ask a question, only to be answered with a grunt, or a faint growl with a glare, or a scratchy purr and contently closed eyes as he takes her into his arms. It will take his partner a while to decipher exactly what each noise means, as well as what they mean when combined with different facial expressions and posturing, but she should pick up on it quite quickly. Fortunately he acts a relatively similar way on the days he is talking, so many of those days where he resigns from speaking shouldn't be too much of an issue, as he acts mostly the same way minus the words.

Keeping on the topic of nonverbal communication; when he's partially transformed, he probably has a few other habits than just scent marking is partner. As a show of being territorial, he may drape or curl his tail around her, be it her ankles, legs, or even her waist if they're lying down together. As a sign of affection, he may lightly drag his claws along her skin, similarly to how he would with his fingers to relay tender affection.

In a general idea; when Lance is partially or fully transformed, he acts much more on feral instincts than usual. This can lead him to being simultaneously more territorial and romantic towards his partner; it imprints the idea to others that she belongs to him while he maintains a quality relationship with his partner so she doesn't seek to leave him. He feels emotions very deeply, and it's those emotions that influence him to act more on feral instincts (after all, emotions are basically chemical reactions within the body that we then respond to). This means that his emotional reactions can be - and usually are - amplified, or at very least it's easier for him to have a stronger than normal reaction.

This last headcanon may be a bit iffy, but I imagine dragons definitely take a singular mate for the rest of their lives, and have a sort of mating ritual where they leave a physical mark - a bite - on their partner that signifies that from then on, their partner belongs to them.

Marking in general - be it biting, clawing, or bruising (that last one is typically on accident) - may be a common thing with Lance due to his interest in making his partner his mate, and he may perform those markings willingly (usually on the gentler side) or by pure accident as he's caught up in the moment of pressing his partner into the bed and holding her down as she squirms (it's in these accidental moments where the more rough, violent-looking marks come from). He's alright for the most part if his partner would rather not have him inflict a lot of physical marks, he understands her reasoning - after all, its certainly not entirely painless - but his partner may need to understand that if she allows him to act on his more feral instincts sometimes, even in nonsexual ways, he may still end up accidentally inflicting some small mark on her. Of course, if she's sensitive enough to pain that any sort of marking will make her show signs of distress, he'll immediately back off upon noticing those signs (the last thing he wants is to truly hurt his partner), but if she doesn't show signs of discomfort, he may indulge in the feeling of sinking his teeth into her flesh a bit too much and end up accidentally leaving a mark. While on the topic of marking by teeth; dragons - being carnivores - probably have abnormally sharp teeth, even in a human form. This also helps their marking mates by a bite mark stand out more, as not many other species can do similar things.

On the other hand, if his partner is entirely fine with - better yet; likes - marks, be it of any kind, expect him to make that a semi consistent thing. He's much more likely to inflict smaller, more common marks (like hickeys), but if his partner lets him, he'll gladly leave a few scratches or light bite marks on her skin next time he finds himself between her legs and deep within her. On occasion, when he really lets himself go and indulge in the feel of his partner, he may leave a more aggressive scratch or other mark, but this would usually only happen when he knows his partner doesn't mind - or likes - these physical marks.

An important thing for his partner to keep in mind is that he has a human form but his species is dragon. At the end of the day, he’s a dragon by nature. He can certainly be civil and calm, but he will have his moments where he seems more beast than man. Living and being intimate with him is very different than just working with him, so his partner does need to be aware that she may find out some interesting facts about him that she may have never guessed before.

Being with a dragon isn't for the faint of heart, Lance is a true testament to that, but as long as his partner approaches the topic of romance and heavy instincts with an open, considerate mindset, it's unlikely there should be any issues that would arise from this.

I'm glad I finally got those written out, I've been meaning to write them for a while! Hopefully it's not too unorthodox of a topic, but I've noticed the topic of Lance being a dragon is something people like to continuously acknowledge, so I figured this is a good topic to post about.

Thanks for reading!

[naturalbeautyhelp]

Acne Cures on a budget  (revamped)

Acne is a very tricky subject that millions of people struggle with- sometimes for their entire lives. If you have struggled yourself I’m sure you’re aware that there is no cure-all for acne, but there may be some methods for healing the skin that you haven’t heard yet so I’m going to share everything I know with you just in case.  First, the basics:

1. Drink plenty of water and eat healthy foods. This is just a given. If you want to feel comfortable in your skin you may have to make some lifestyle changes. that Includes getting regular exercise and sunlight. 2. Recognize the fact that your skin is an organ. Like any organ it has an ecosystem of healthy bacteria that ought to be treated with care- much like a garden. It will need different things on different days, and in order to reach it’s fullest potential, the gardener (that’s you) will need to pay close attention to it. 

3. Be aware that pimples are infected pores which are attempting to heal themselves. The puss inside of them is a soup of white blood cells which are trying to repair the skin for some reason. Finding the root cause of the infection before treatment is ideal. 

A few common acne culprits: Your acne could be hormonal, it could be caused by allergies (ex: food allergies, detergent allergies), or your skin may be getting bacterial infections from unsanitary surfaces or poor air quality. 

Now to get into the technical stuff: 

~If your skin is hurting, red, swollen, try putting down harsh chemicals like Niacinamide and Retinol, and try something calming like rosehip oil or aloe vera.

  Amaranthus oil, tea tree oil, rapeseed oil, rosewater, and witch hazel are all examples of gentle things that are amazing for the skin. I know natural skin healers can be very expensive, but if you can’t afford them don’t hesitate to steel them from your local, unethical corporate store. If you need tips on s***lifting,  try visiting this Reddit community at   https://www.reddit.com/r/IllegalLifeProTips/

~Rinse your face with cool or cold water every time you wash it. This seals up your pores and prevents dirt and bacteria from entering them.

~Make sure that the things that touch your face every day are clean. Make sure that the cloths and towels that you use on your face are clean. Disinfect face tools regularly and use hot water on wash cloths to kill bacteria between washes.  Clean your glasses. Change your sheets and pillow cases frequently. In addition, avoid touching your face constantly with your hands as well as your hair, and keep your hands and hair clean. 

~⚠️Don’t pick your face! Pimples are like Petri dishes full of puss and bacteria and when you pop them you are just spreading the ickiness around to the rest of your face. In addition to that, every time you pop a pimple you are damaging the barrier of your skin, which not only can cause scarring and dark spots, but it can leave your skin vulnerable to bad bacteria and cause further breakouts. For these reasons, you should only pop a zit as a last resort. 

~Popping: If you have very stubborn acne and insist on popping anyway, go to an aesthetician if you have the privilege to do so

If you can not see an aesthetician, try this method for safe pimple popping: 

Wash the affected area with hot water and a mild soap. Pop the pimple making sure you get EVERYTHING out of it, wash it again with extra hot water, dry it with something clean. Then, apply lots of pressure to the popped pimple so that it doesn't get the chance to “refill” itself (use a q-tip if you have one for at least 30 seconds to 5 minutes depending on how big the pimple is). Next, put some rubbing alcohol, and some diluted tea tree oil on the pimple and cover it with the sticky part of a band-aid. Leave the band-aid on until you are certain that it will not grow back.

~🛑 Stop using all of those skincare products. Obviously if they worked, you wouldn't even be reading this. Using certain products (especially the harsher ones) can cause allergic reactions and sometimes dry out your skin, which can trigger your skin to produce extra oil to overcompensate, which leads to acne. They also tend to eat away at you financially. Break the vicious cycle. Try tossing all of your products and use a mild soap and simple moisturizer for a few weeks before starting anything new again.

If you insist on using acne products then follow this important rule.                 🚨 🚨  Do not use multiple products within the same 3 weeks. Doing this makes it impossible to figure out which products could be helping or causing further damage to your skin.

~Know that many skin care products do have valuable substances, but they use fillers and fragrances that can ruin your skin. Try looking at the ingredients in your skin care products, researching the individual components, and purchasing said components individually. Ex: instead of buying an ‘aloe infused moisturizer’, try purchasing real aloe vera gel- or better yet buy an aloe vera plant- and use that ingredient as you see fit. It can be more cost effective, better for the environment, and a good learning experience. 

~Avoid wearing foundation and concealer. Of course it is tempting to cover acne with makeup, but your makeup can add fuel to the fire by clogging pores and spreading bad bacteria 

~If you are applying makeup to the face, make sure that you are regularly cleaning your brushes and disinfecting your pallets. Dirty makeup supplies don’t just contribute to acne, they can cause gnarly infections in sensitive areas (like the eyes) and send you to the hospital.

Now here are some advanced methods for healing the skin. Feel free to alter them so that they suit your specific needs:

🧖🏾‍♀️The Steam Method:

If you suspect that your soap is a culprit, or you just want to try something new, replace your morning cleansing routine with this (give skin 2 weeks time to purge before deciding whether or not this works for you). Get a light oil, preferably rosehip or coconut, and rub it on your face very well for at least 30 seconds. Then, take a clean washcloth and submerge it in the hottest water you can take. Take the washcloth and firmly press it against the entire surface of your face until it cools. Use the cloth to remove all the oil you can manage. 

🧖🏼‍♀️The other Steam Method:

Get a pot and boil water in it. Put your face over the boiling water (not too close lol) and let the steam open up your pores for 5-10 minutes. After you are done, use a clean, damp washcloth to wipe your face. Then get an ice cube or cold water and put it all over your face to seal your pores back up. Personally I like putting tea in the water sometimes. Peppermint tea and green tea are great. 

🩹 Bandaging:

Now this might sound ridiculous, but I have learned that putting bandages/band-aids onto your face at night can make a world of difference when it comes to acne and hyperpigmentation. My personal method is this: each night after I steam and wash my face, I put tiny bit of rubbing alcohol onto each pimple. I then wash and sanitize my hands with rubbing alcohol, apply diluted tea tree oil to each problem area on my face, and then take an ordinary cloth bandage and cover every zit that I can find. After each zit is covered, I apply moisturizer and serums to the rest of the face as I normally would. Change bandages frequently (1-3 times a day depending on how oily your skin is), and leave them on the affected area until swelling has gone down. Repeat the process as many times as you’d like. 

Usually normal bandaids are fine, but at times when my acne flares up badly I will go so far as to use gauze on large areas of my face. The cloth absorbs any oil that your skin secrets while protecting it from bacteria and sweat all night long, and the bandage seals in the tea tree oil so that it can penetrate your pores. I have noticed that the sticky part of a bandaid does the best job at diffusing large pimples as opposed to the white cloth part which is best for blackheads. 

~If all else fails and you have done your best to cure acne at home, consider talking to a doctor if you have that option. 🥼 They may try to prescribe an acne medication, but these options tend to be extremely expensive and hard on your organs. Ask them if you can try a prescribed antibiotic supplement first. 

Last but certainly not least: Sit with the fact that picture perfect skin is not healthy skin. As mentioned earlier, your skin is an organ. And it’s job is merely to protect your insides- not to get you onto the cover of a magazine. Your skin is not meant to look like the porcelain on a doll. 

💊💊💊💊💊And that is it! wow that was a long post. I hope this can help at least one person out there with their skin troubles because this took forever 

[mxvladdy]

That Diavolo angst was perfect. The best, most high quality cheese at the end. Domestic fluff galore. Decadence straight from the source of your hands.

Could we get some Diavolo fluff with an MC who ran away from home(of lamentation) that wants to spend the night at the castle because the brothers were being dismissive [in tsundere and sibling fun-poking ways] but it just kept reminding MC of their abusive home life in the most innocuous ways

i.e. Satan mocking the books they like for being "too whimsical/fanciful". Asmo making a few too many degrading comments on their skin/hair care or lack thereof (like, tell me the RIGHT way to do it then!  If I'm such a fuck up on my own). Mammon and Belphie.... being Mammon and Belphie.  Levi gate keeping them from devildom equivalent interests because they're "not a real fan if they don't [x]"

A/N: Awww you spoil me with compliments ~^.^~! I hope this is to your liking!

It was late and Diavolo was exhausted. Diavolo looks down at his over inundated schedule, black and red ink covering the pages, barely any of the original white pages could be seen now.  Squinting he chuckles at the elegant handwriting of his butler. He had quite literally penciled in two hours for sleep. A sweet gesture for the evening. It was unfortunate he had wasted half of that time going over in his last meeting of the night. 

The meeting was supposed to be just a brief update on the expansion of the kingdom out west. New trading routes with the colonies and lands not yet in his domain. But, as usual, the evening turned to his exchange program and he always had time to talk about his pet project, even if his schedule didn’t. Each of the brothers was adamant that the program was going well. Better than they had hoped in fact, they all warmed up to you much to his delight, even saying they were treating you like you were part of the family.

That should have been his first clue. He knew the brothers and how they acted with family. Perhaps it was because he was exhausted that the comment went over his head, perhaps it was his own ego telling him everything was going great. He brushed aside the remarks to conclude the meeting and get to his rooms without a second thought. Diavolo practically vibrating with excitement at the hot bath waiting for him. Maybe he could nab some chocolate from Barbatos’s secret stash too. With those sweet thoughts filling his head and his eyes buried in his agenda he overlooks you standing by his door. He skids to a stop only after almost knocking you off your feet with his massive bulk. “My apologies, I did not see you there.” He steadies you looking you over for any injuries. “Do you need something?” He forces an energetic smile onto his face to hide his exhaustion and slight irritation at yet another snag in his evening.

He watches you shuffle in place for a moment, eyes downcast. “Sorry-sorry, it’s silly, but could I stay with you for a bit? I don’t want to be at the house.” Your voice warbles, hands coming up to wipe at fresh tears. Diavolo’s hearts sink, his previous exhaustion taking a backseat to you.  

He beckons you into his room without a second thought. “What’s wrong? What happened?” You shake your head rubbing harder at your face, your skin getting more and more agitated. He purrs deep in his chest pulling you close on instinct to comfort you and for you to stop agitating your skin. You bury your face in his uniform.

“It’s stupid really, I don’t know why I’m upset.” You laugh. The weak sound getting caught on a wet hiccup. “I just can’t handle the teasing right now.” Anger begins to brew in his gut, the brothers, you were obviously talking about them. Had he been to lose with his leash? Did they lie to him?

He leads you to his favorite chair by the window and crouches next to you. “Explain, please? If I need to correct this I will.” He listens, letting you vent and get your frustration out. He never had siblings nor any real family to relate your experiences with like you did, but he understood the mounting weight of words. There was only so much one could take before even the strongest shoulders crumble. “I’m sorry they hurt you.” He reaches to squeeze your knee in reassurance. “I could have Barbatos explain the matter to them, if you allow it.”

You sniff and give him a watery smile. “Thank you but I have to express this myself- I just needed some time away from them.” You cover his large hand with both of yours and squeeze back. “Thanks for listening.” Diavolo rumbles warmly, eyes locking with your warm hands.

“Anytime mi giglio,” He leans back onto his heels. “If I’m honest, their little jabs are utter baseless garbage.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle wiping your nose with his gifted handkerchief. “You don’t think I’m some boring sentimental human?” He shakes his head letting out a dismissive snort. You are beautiful and if Asmo was too blinded by his own standards and routines then it was his loss. He loves the character and different textures of your body. He loves your permanent laugh lines and the way your skin by your eyes crinkle when you smile. The way your nose scrunches when you are happy just makes him glow when in your presence.

Even the tiny scars and marks on your skin told stories that his body never could be able to do. He envied the way human lives could be seen through their bodies, the stories their bodies tell with or without them knowing was amazing. Demons, with their smooth lines, tight hard skin, and hidden agendas couldn’t do that. The idea of “gate-keeping” as you called it was a completely new contempt to him, and sounded ridiculous too. It was counterintuitive to his whole program. If you enjoyed the programs and culture then why were the brothers chastising you over it? He makes a mental note to find time off to take you to enjoy some of the sights of his Devildom without the brother's judgment.

“No. You- you,” He waves his free hand in the air trying to find words that won’t embarrass him. “You are fascinating and so unashamed of your interests. The life you live is unlike any demon or fallen angel could ever comprehend. If they tease you on such trivial things then that speaks to a fault in their character, not yours.” He lets them hang in the air between you, not wanting the meaning to be lost in useless banter.

The silence between you was comfortable and Diavolo basked in it. Normally silence was always tense around him, everyone always waiting for a decree or punishment. Right now though there is none of that. “Wise words, where did you get them?” You move away to pat at your blotchy face, trying to wipe away the tear stains.

Diavolo huffs at the loss of your soft touch. “Little D.” He jokes, voice deadpan. You laugh turning to face him. “There we are!” He cracks a small grin already feeling your mood relax. Leaning in close he wipes away a stray tear. “Feeling a bit better?  Perhaps we can-” Your phone buzzes from your discarded bag making you jump apart. You rush over digging through the bag to grab the blasted device looking at the rapid-fire amount of texts and calls all come in at once. “The brothers?” Diavolo sighs cursing their interruption. He can see the long streams of text bubbles scroll by in the reflection of your damp eyes.

“Yeah.” You look up from your screen. “They are wondering where I am.” Diavolo grimaces not even trying to hide his feelings. You glance back at the phone with little interest, then shrug powering it off. “I think I can let them stew in it for a bit, don’t you? Mind if I crash here for the night?” The Devil perks up, gold eyes following the trajectory of your phone as you toss it. The decorative case disappearing into the cushions.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He claps his hands together in excitement. “Come! Read me one of the stories Satan found jejune. I think I have a few Devildom children's stories on a shelf somewhere to share too!” Diavolo gets up already deciding which room you will stay in for the evening. Perhaps if he plays his cards right you could stay the weekend.

[rookie-ramsey]

Forty (Ethan x MC)

Description: Ethan hates surprise parties. That much, he knows for certain. But she has a way of making anything special, even something as mundane as his fortieth birthday.

Rating: 17+ due to suggestive dialogue at the end, but nothing graphic. 

Ethan hates surprise parties.

That much, he knows for certain. He’ll attend events when it’s for the greater good, but there’s nothing about surprise parties that Ethan thinks serves any real purpose.

If he’s honest, birthday celebrations on their own don’t have much of a point. They’re entirely for socialization with people he normally makes a point of avoiding. He hasn’t made a point of celebrating his birthday since high school, and he can’t remember having a surprise party since he was six.

The jovial tune Olivia’s humming doesn’t go unnoticed. She’s hiding something, and everything about her demeanor suggests that he’s going to walk into a surprise party by the end of the day.

Ethan arches a brow, peering over the rim of his coffee mug at her. He knows by the smirk she’s trying to hide that she has something up her sleeve.

She catches his eye and lets the smile widen. “You’re staring at me like you think committed a felony.”

“You’ve been incredibly suspicious all morning.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and leans across the desk. Her lips touch his in a quick kiss that he wants to sink into, but she pulls back with a teasing grin.  “It’s only eight in the morning. How could I have been suspicious that long?”

“It’s something about the way you’ve been smirking and whistling since the exact moment I asked if you’re planning a surprise party.”

Her mouth curls downwards in mock offense. “I said I wasn’t planning a party. I’d never plan a party without your awareness.”

“That sounds… unconvincing. Very much so.”

The glass doors to the office slide open and Olivia smiles across the room. “Tobias, am I throwing Ethan a surprise party?”

The smirk Tobias gives in response does nothing to ease Ethan’s suspicions. “If you are, I’d like to know why I didn’t get invited sooner.”

“See?”

Instinctually, Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. If this were absolutely anybody else planning a surprise party, he’d insist on sulking and explaining why he refused to partake in such tomfoolery.

“No party.” Still, she winks and grins in the way that never fails to make his heart stutter, even when she’s absolutely up to something.

There had better be whiskey at this surprise party.

XXXXXX

Ethan doesn’t see much of her the rest of the morning.

In fact, he doesn’t see her again until lunch time, in the cafeteria. She’s already seated, huddled close to Sienna and grinning at something Sienna is showing her on her phone. The glance she throws in his direction tells him that it absolutely has something to do with whatever she has planned.

A friendly clap on his shoulder distracts him. He turns to see Bryce standing in line, grinning ear to ear.

“I hear someone hit the big Four-Oh today. Should I bring tequila?”

Next to him, Rafael tries not to laugh. “Come on, Bryce. Don’t tease him so much.”

Ridiculous as it is, hearing his age out loud makes Ethan cringe, not for the first time today. “Tell me what you know about this party.”

“No can do. I’m sworn to secrecy.” Bryce makes a performance of pretending to zip his lips, chucking an invisible key basketball-style into the nearest trash can. The amused smirk never leaves his face as he picks up a tray and walks away with it.

Ethan turns his attention to Rafael, thinking that maybe he’ll show an ounce of mercy. “Well?”

“I’m… going to go make sure Bryce didn’t take the last pudding cup.” With that, he follows his friend, and Ethan’s suspicions are no less than they were before.

XXXXXX

“Ethan!”

At the sound of Naveen’s voice, Ethan looks up from his patient’s charts. Naveen strides into the room, smiling warmly and holding an envelope in his hand.

“Happy birthday, Ethan,” Naveen greets, pulling his former protege in for a hug before handing him the envelope.

Ethan opens the envelope and reads the greeting on the front of the card. “Welcome to your forties, where a night of heavy drinking requires more recovery time than minor surgery.”

Naveen rolls his eyes at the mildly amused snort that follows. “Hey now, if you laugh any harder, you may get hurt!”

Olivia snorts and smiles at Naveen. “Speaking of heavy drinking, and since Ethan doesn’t want a party, we thought we’d reserve a big table at a restaurant tonight. One with a bar.”

“I don’t think I can make it, but who knows? I always did love crashing parties.” Naveen winks, confirming Ethan’s suspicions that apparently the entirety of Edenbrook’s staff is going to be in his living room when he gets home tonight.

Once they’re alone, Olivia catches his stare and sighs. “Ethan, we’re messing with you. I promise, no surprise party.”

“Mm hmm. You’re fortunate that you are the only person I’d go along with this for.”

“I’m touched.” She pretends to dab at her eyes, then steals another tauntingly quick kiss before her pager interrupts. “Gotta go. But I promise… no party.”

She can deny it all she wants, but Ethan knows better. He’ll go to this party, but he wasn’t lying-- there is absolutely nobody else he would do this for.

XXXXXX

It’s the end of his shift and Ethan knows he only has a few minutes of peace and quiet before he goes home to find co-workers he barely knows occupying his home.

Olivia’s fingers lace through his as they make their way to the top floor. Ethan half-expects to already hear music pulsing through the door, but the hall is eerily quiet.

Suspiciously so.

With the number of people she recruited to tease him today, Ethan expects no less than ten people, and that’s assuming she only invited their closest co-workers.

She steps ahead of him, reaching the door first. Her eyes sparkle with a teasing glint as she inserts the key--- her key--- into the doorknob and unlocks it. She tentatively pushes the door open and emits a low whistle.

“Wow, it’s dark in here. I mean, it’s always dark because we’re responsible people who turn the lights off when we leave, but… you know.”

Not subtle at all.

With a flourish, she swipes at the light switch. Light floods the room and Ethan expects an onslaught of people to jump out yelling some pre-rehearsed birthday greeting, but he’s met only with a living room devoid of partygoers.

“Huh. I told everyone to meet in the living room. They must be in the kitchen. Close your eyes.”  When he relents, she bites back a smirk and ushers him into the dining area. “Okay, open them.”

Ethan opens his eyes, blinking in mild surprise when he isn’t greeted with people jumping from behind every piece of furniture. Instead, there’s a table set for two, a bottle of fancy scotch at the centerpiece.

“I… you didn’t…”

“I didn’t plan a surprise party after all?” she finishes, smirking as she leans up to silence him with a kiss. “Told you so.”

“Then why did you go so far with the act today?”

“Because you’re almost impossible to surprise and I thought if I tricked you into thinking you’d walk into a surprise party, you’d actually be surprised by a nice, quiet dinner.”

At that, he lets out a low chuckle. “Well… I suppose I can say I am very nicely surprised to not have people in my house on my birthday of all days.”

The teasing glint returns to her eyes as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Besides, you’re really getting up there in years now. I couldn’t risk startling you like that.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Such a comedian. If my aging memory is correct, your thirtieth is not far away at all.”

“Shh.” Olivia shakes her head and steers him toward the table. She lifts the lid from the serving to reveal their dinner, the warm spices wafting into the air. “Steak, paired with the best potatoes you’ll ever eat, and expensive alcohol. Three things that I know you like more than parties.”

“Four, if your presence counts.”

Her grin widens, making his features soften in response. “That was cheesy, but I’ll take it since you’re the birthday boy.”

Ethan laughs as he picks up a knife to cut into his steak. “I’d like to know how you managed to do all of this.”

“I have my ways of finding help so I can sneak off to cook fancy dinners using your recipes.” She pours two glasses of scotch and sits across from him. “And there’s chocolate cake for dessert, courtesy of Sienna.”

“So that’s what you two were conspiring about in the cafeteria.”

“Got it in one,” she confirms. She clinks her glass to his. “How does it feel to be forty?”

“No different than it felt to be thirty-nine.”

“You would say that. But I’m curious, how old were you the last time you had a birthday party?”

“Sixteen.”

“Did you have to share your birthday cake with dinosaurs?”

Ethan’s eyes roll again. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Absolutely.” An amused laugh shakes her shoulders and she doesn’t miss the way Ethan’s lips lift into a soft smile.

Companionable quiet falls between them as they enjoy their dinner, followed by slices of chocolate cake. As soon as Ethan takes his last bite, Olivia hands him a long wrapped box.

“Open it.”

“Impatient.” Ethan removes the gift wrap to reveal a framed photo. They’re sitting on his couch, her head resting on his shoulder as she snaps the picture. He’s not looking at the camera, but the side view of his face catches the softness of his smile.

The smile he’s pretty sure he’s making right now.

“There’s more under the tissue paper.”

Ethan moves aside the tissue, his fingers brushing against the plush fabric of a soft bathrobe. “I think someone is enjoying her first year of an attending’s salary.”

“Maybe a little. I know I didn’t go all out and the gifts are pretty small, and-“

He closes the distance between them, cutting her off with a tender kiss. Olivia doesn’t hesitate before she melts into it. Her fingers reach up to graze his stubbled jaw.

“I love it,” Ethan assures her when their lips part. “The dinner, the gifts… I’d rather have quality time with you than extravagant parties and presents.”

Warmth fills her eyes as she takes a seat on his knee and touches her forehead to his. A smirk forms on her mouth. “I got a matching robe for myself, too. But I’m sure you’d rather see what I’m going to wear under it.”

The words send a shiver down Ethan’s spine. He’s half tempted to swipe the dishes off the table and let her have her way with him right here, right now, but he does have self-control.

Her smile widens, tantalizing him. It’s enough to make his heart skip with affection and longing.

For a moment, she pauses, her face inches from his. She steals another kiss before she gently grips his shoulders and urges him out of his chair. “Follow me for the rest of your birthday surprises.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

XXXXXX

Moonlight and glow from the city lights bathe the room, spilling through the window. Raindrops drip down the glass, the sound of their pattering lulling him toward sleep.

Sleep tugs at his eyelids. Ethan stifles a content yawn. His hand cradles Olivia’s head to his bare chest, his fingers combing softly through her hair.  She’s already asleep-- she always falls asleep first-- and Ethan wants to cherish the moment before he surrenders to sleep, too.

His arm tightens around her waist, drawing her closer. Her breaths escape in soft snores, almost inaudible and warm against his skin. Ethan’s not sure what he did to deserve this, deserve her, but he made a decision two years ago to never take a moment for granted.

He couldn’t be happier if he tried.

author’s note: So I definitely cringed at some of my own dialogue, especially since I don’t use present tense often. But I liked the way this turned out! It was originally going to be a headcanon, but... this happened instead.

Tags, part 1

@princess-geek / @lapisreviewsstuff / @silverlitskies / @paulfwesley / @dr-brianna-casey-valentine / @junehiratas / @choicesstanblog / @trappedinfandoms / @justanotherrookie / @bellcat2010 / @desmaranj / @lion-ess24 / @nooruleman / @caseyvalentineramsey / @xee-na / @edith-eggs1 / @oofchoices / @schnitzelbutterfingers​ / @tefigranger​ / @jlynn12273​ / @laceandlula​ / @crazy-loca-blog​ / @somegdchoices​ / @briefdreamlanddream / @forthebrokenheartedthings​ / @lilyvalentine​ / @parkerattano​ / @drramseysownsme​ / @misswhit12​ / @drethanfreakingramsey​ / @juneiswriting​ / @macy-ray85​ / @swimmingauthordreamerbonk​ / @myusualnerdyself​ / @siaramsey​ / @takemyopenheart​ / @queencarb​

[chatonne-rousse]

Orange You Glad I'm Not Seeing Green (Nope, Totally Not Jealous At All)

A continuation of my Gifts from the Heart series, the whole of which is written as a gift for my dear friend @sketchy-panda.

Read it on Ao3 here.

Follows Great Minds (and Kind Hearts) Think Alike, which can be found here.

*********

The first forty-two minutes had gone so well.

Marinette was acting weird, but a normal, endearing weird - the kind of weird that warms his chest with affection and makes him smile. There is no one quite like her, and Adrien knows her friendship is a sweet blessing indeed. Even if it takes a moment or two to decipher her jumbled sentences sometimes. Even if she's a teeny tiny bit of a disaster.

When Ms. Bustier had paired them up for a literature project, he was thrilled. Adrien would never scoff at the chance to spend time with his dear friend, much less to enjoy a window of escape, however short, from the echoing silence of his own home. He'd turned to her with unabashed excitement to find her cheeks and ears pink and a strange mix of joy and terror in her eyes.

"Yay!" she'd squeaked, the word accompanied by awkward jazz hands. This had prompted a nudge under the table from Alya that didn't escape his notice. With that, she'd taken a deep breath, set her shoulders, and asked if he'd like to come over after school to work on it together.

Would he ever! The wave of happiness that had risen in his chest must have shown on his face, but when Marinette's smile had softened to match, he realized he didn't care if he grinned like a fool in front of the class. An afternoon with a friend - a friend! - was such a rare treat. And he's already read The Three Musketeers, so he'd been sure this would be a breeze.

And it was. Until six minutes ago, when they realized that the plate of cookies they'd been snacking on had dwindled to one. This discovery came by way of both of them reaching for it without looking, hands meeting over the plate amidst blushing cheeks and murmured apologies. With an awkward laugh, he'd taken the final cookie, carefully broken it roughly in half, and offered the slightly larger piece to his wide-eyed project partner.

Their fingers brushed in the handoff. She breathed a thank you. He smiled graciously.

It all happened so quickly after that.

Before he could take a bite of his cookie, her elbow had knocked into her glass, sending orange juice across her desk, her lap, his stocking feet.

"Disaster!" Marinette had shrieked, prompting Mrs. Cheng to peek through the open trap door a few moments later, looking first at her daughter dancing frantically around her now-toppled desk chair and then to a bewildered Adrien, still holding half a cookie in one hand and Marinette's keyboard, rescued from the rogue wave of orange juice, in the other.

She'd just smiled. "I'll bring up some towels, dears."

Adrien could only nod.

Now, Marinette stands in front of her sink, wiping the front of her pants with a damp towel and sighing every thirty seconds. He's barefoot, his socks whisked off to parts unknown, ostensibly to be laundered, though he'd protested that wasn't necessary. Their cookie and juice supply has been refilled, and calm has settled over the room again. Sort of.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien," she says quietly, a tinge of misery at the edge of her voice. "I'm so clumsy."

He tries to make her smile the best way he knows how. "It's okay, Marinette. Orange you glad it didn't get on your drawings for the project?"

She stops trying to clean off her jeans and raises her eyes to his. "Did you just...?"

His eyes gleam. "You know, workers in the orange juice factory will lose their jobs if they can't concentrate."

Her surprised giggle is incredibly gratifying. He takes it as a green light to continue. "Do you know what language oranges use to talk to each other?" When she shakes her head, he gleefully answers, "Mandarin!"

"You'd fit right in, then!" Marinette laughs heartily, the sound making his grin widen until it hurts. (It's worth it.)

"Well, I am very a-peeling. I have a real zest for life."

She groans, though she's still laughing, and facepalms with the hand holding the towel. Adrien watches as she realizes how sticky it is against her face, throws it on the counter, and blushes when she makes eye contact with him once more. His own smile never dims. Making a friend laugh like this is one of life's great joys. Laughing with a friend like this is one of the greatest.

Finally, she washes her hands at the sink and he takes a moment to right her desk chair, gazing around the room to the sound of her drying her hands. Magazine photos of him still remain, though they mix on corkboards and wall collages with pictures of friends and family. His own face smiles - truly smiles - back at him from several of them. He remembers each of these days, shining memories with beloved friends that he treasures. He's glad Marinette treasures them, too.

His gaze slides to the corner of her desk, near her sewing machine and a large box he assumes is full of sewing notions, and his breath catches. There, on twin display stands to keep them upright, are two figurines he doesn't know how he missed earlier. Ladybug holds her yo-yo in her right hand, Chat Noir's baton is held in his left. Their tiny plastic hands clasp in the middle, just as they were molded to do for the 1st Anniversary Special Partners Edition figures he would know anywhere.

Marinette sits back down in her desk chair, looks at him, then follows his gaze to the figurines. Adrien turns his eyes to her.

"I didn't know you were a superhero fan, Marinette!"

She laughs a nervous laugh as a blush rises to her cheeks. "Me? A fan of Chat Noir? Psssh." She waves a hand as if to dismiss the idea.

He isn't sure if he should be offended or gratified. He'd certainly prefer the latter.

"Why wouldn't you be a fan? I am. I think the heroes are awesome."

"You do?" she breathes, eyes wide.

"Of course! Paris is lucky," he elbows her arm gently and winks, "to have them."

Her giggle makes him smile again. He always feels so light and so carefree here, in her warm home, with her friendly parents and a plate of cookies and the sweetness she seems to radiate in his presence. Paris is lucky to have superhero protectors, but he's lucky in his own way to have found this kind of gentle contentment in a world denied to him for so long.

"I guess we should get back to the project--"

"Where did you get them?"

They each speak at the same time, twin blushes and stammered apologies following just as with the cookie incident.

Marinette breaks the ensuing awkward silence first. "One of my best friends gave them to me."

"I'm not surprised," Adrien responds with a grin. "Alya might be the biggest fan in Paris!"

The blush on her cheeks spreads to the tips of her ears and her eyes widen before she blinks. "Oh, um...it wasn't Alya." Marinette looks at her hands in her lap and then back up to him. "But she does have this set. She's kind of obsessed."

Strange, he'd never heard about any other best friends from Nino or Alya, though that didn't mean Marinette didn't have a very close online friend or someone in the design community she just hadn't talked much about before. He hopes this person knows what a good friend she has in Marinette, that she treasures her like Marinette deserves to be treasured. Though of course she'd gifted her with the set of figurines, so this friend at least knows quality merch when she sees it. Adrien's heart warms at the thought of Marinette having such good friends. She deserves nothing less.

"Adrien? Are you okay?"

He blinks twice, shaking himself from his reverie. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You were far away for a minute there."

He smiles warmly. Marinette is so thoughtful. "I promise. I was just thinking what a great best friend she must be to have given you such a cool gift."

"Oh," she says quietly, looking at the figures again, though Adrien is still focused on his friend. He watches as her eyes soften and her smile turns gentle before she speaks again. "He definitely is. There's no one better."

Her gaze snaps to his again. "I mean! I'll bet you're better! At being hot. I mean cool! I mean..." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "So! The Three Musketeers, eh?" She pulls her notebook back in front of her and opens it to a random page that contains nothing having to do with Alexandre Dumas. She laughs nervously, resolutely staring at the page and not the boy beside her.

The boy who hasn't breathed since her quiet "oh." The boy whose brain is still stuck on one word.

He.

Adrien can feel his smile turn brittle at the edges and forces his face to remain neutral, but it's difficult all of a sudden.

It shouldn't bother him. It shouldn't affect him at all. Marinette is friends with Nino, Kim, and Max, and he doesn't think twice about it. Why should he? This is different, though, somehow. An unknown entity. A boy friend he's never heard of who makes her expression soften like that, with memories of private jokes and gift exchanges and laughter. Probably. That's probably what it's like with Marinette and her other best friend, who isn't Alya and whose name he doesn't know.

An odd feeling twists his stomach. Adrien doesn't like it.

"Well," he starts, sliding his own notebook over and opening to the last page they'd been working on before the orange juice spill, "he has very good taste in Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise. I have that same set myself."

"You do?" she squeaks, and their eyes meet again.

"I do. But I didn't take mine out of the packaging." He chances a cheeky half-smile at her, the knot in his stomach loosening just a fraction at the smile she returns. "Mine will be pristine when the set is worth millions someday."

When she laughs, the tension in his chest dissipates like springtime dandelion seeds, floating away on a sudden breeze of fresh, sweet joy.

Maybe Marinette's mysterious best friend can make her laugh like this, but right now, Adrien is the one sitting beside her - something rare and precious and not to be taken for granted - and it makes no sense to do anything other than enjoy the moment.

[marvelousstevetony]

Okay but those ways to say I love you prompts are all so cute 🥺 what about on a post-it note for Steve and tony if you’re feeling inspired? Thank you! 💖

Ahh, they are! Thank you for this prompt, friend, it is so sweet. I hope you enjoy this small thing 💖

~ ~ ~

“Please don’t leave me in this hellhole.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheeks to stop the laughter from bubbling out of him as he lets his eyes wander over to the bed where Tony lies, face smushed into his pillow.

His arm hangs limply over the edge of the bed, the blanket pulled up so it covers most of his naked back, apart from his shoulders. His skin has that sleep-warm glow to it, and judging by the soft, relaxed expression on his face, Tony is only about fifty percent awake as he lets out a small whine.

Now Steve is unable to keep the smile from gliding over his lips. “You’ll do great, Tony. And you know I’d much rather get back into bed,” Steve responds as he zips his bag and places it by the door.

“There’s nobody stopping you…”

“There kinda is, though,” Steve says, walking towards the bed, then sits down after nudging Tony’s leg to make space on the edge of the bed. “Besides, I’ll be back tonight. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

He threads his fingers through the mess of dark curls, softly untangling the knots that always come as a result of Tony nuzzling his head against Steve’s shoulder, chest or back, depending on whose turn it is to be the small spoon. It looks a little like a bird’s nest, Steve notes, all disheveled and mussed, but definitely the most adorable bird’s nest Steve has ever seen.

“’s not true,” Tony mumbles into the pillow. “I always miss you when you’re not here.”

Steve knows the hoarseness to Tony’s voice is probably from sleeping, but he can’t help but feel like it’s from emotion, too, and just the thought of Tony missing him even when they don’t see each other for mere hours makes something in his chest catch. Because Steve feels it, too; the constant want and need to be with Tony, as if Tony’s presence is the oxygen Steve breathes to keep him alive.

Steve clears his throat to prevent an emotional voice crack. “I won’t be away for long, okay? I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, smiling even though Tony can’t see it with his eyes closed.

Tony hums, leaning into the palm Steve rests on his cheek. It’s only for a quick second though, because then he sighs heavily and feigns a pout. “Apparently not enough, since you’re leaving me to go to a stupid meeting. In D.C.”

Steve chuckles softly as he brushes his thumb over Tony’s cheekbone. “I’ll make it up to,” Steve promises and leans down to press a gentle kiss the corner of Tony’s lips. “You’re going to smash that presentation like you always do, and those investors are going to be every bit as smitten by you as I am.”

“I know,” Tony says, smirking even in his sleep-hazy state. “Still don’t wanna do it, though.”

“You’re gonna be great.” Steve gives his cheek another quick kiss before he stands and heads for the door, grabbing his bag on his way. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

“Mm, love you too,” Tony mumbles, already falling back into the warmth of the blankets and the comfortable unconsciousness.

***

Tony curses under his breath as he woken up by the ear-splitting sound of his alarm going off, and for a few seconds he wonders who he is going to have to sue for making such a vile, atrocious sound. It doesn’t take much longer for his sleep fogged brain to register that he isn’t woken up by the ticklish feeling of Steve’s breath behind his ear that he’s used to.

Steve usually comes to rouse him from his slumber with that low, fond voice whispering good morning in his ear, and a steaming mug of coffee. Today, he gets neither, and it feels like a bad start to what Tony can only imagine is going to be a bad day overall.

He stretches out on the bed, joints clicking, and gives a jaw-crackling yawn that’s followed by an equally dramatic sigh. He lets himself revel in the softness of the mattress and warmth of the blanket before draping one hand over his eyes and reaching for his phone with the other.

He frowns when his hand identifies a piece of paper on the screen of his phone, then rubs at his tired eyes with a fist to clear away the blurry vision. He has to narrow his eyes to make out the words on the post-it, and god he feels old doing so, but the feeling is quickly replaced by the affection that pools in his chest when he reads the note.

Good morning, my love. Hope you slept well.

- S ♡

Steve might not physically be in the Tower, but Tony knows that he left his heart right here.

His heart is apparently not the only thing Steve has left in New York, because throughout the routine of showering, brushing his teeth and getting dressed, Tony finds another few colorful notes with small, sweet messages and cute little drawings on them.

Wish I could join you, the one on the shower cabinet had said, and, well… Tony definitely agrees.

When Tony had showered, sadly all by himself, and finished up in the bathroom, he’d gone to choose what to wear for the meeting with the investors. What screams genius, billionaire, philanthropist and a damn good businessman? he had thought, staring into a closet full of suits.

That’s when he’d noticed another post-it, a red one that said: You look amazing in all of these. Those investors are so lucky. Love you. Steve had added a small smiley face with hearts as eyes. Tony rolled his eyes fondly before settling on a dark grey suit and the maroon-colored tie Steve had bought him.

Now, as he enters he kitchen, he feels a little better, a little less like this day is pure agony.

Because he is Tony Stark, a caffeine-addict, he heads straight for the coffeemaker, his most treasured item, and he can almost hear the birds chirping and angels singing the closer he gets. His focus quickly switches to the piece of paper that’s stuck to it though, and the fact that he reads the note before starting the machine is truly a testament to how much he loves Steve.

Please drink a glass of water and eat something too. Coffee is not a real breakfast!

Tony laughs out loud. He can imagine the look on Steve’s face and the sound of his voice so clearly in his mind as he reads it. Normally he’d argue this point, just because he can and because coffee deserves to be acknowledged as a necessity in his diet, but he doesn’t have it in himself to disregard Steve’s request, so he fills a glass with water and puts a bagel in the toaster while the coffee brews.

When it’s done, Tony goes to grab his favorite mug from the cupboard and is not surprised to find another post-it stuck on it.

From the day I realized I love you, it says and Steve has drawn a tiny ferris wheel on there, too.

Tony smiles reminiscently, thinking back to the day Steve had gotten him the mug. He had bought it in the gift shop in Coney Island when the team had gone there on a day off. Steve had told him how he and Bucky used to go there, he even told him about the time he had thrown up after Bucky made him ride the Cyclone. Neither of them had been able to stop blushing and smiling that day.

He snaps out of his absorption of memories when the toaster chimes, fills his mug and takes a seat a the breakfast bar, scrolling through his phone as he eats. He contemplates calling Steve but remembers that he and Sam are going to be in and out of meetings all day, so he settles on texting him a single red heart emoji.

For the next hour, as he gets ready for the investor meeting, Tony finds several other post-its. Some are messages saying stuff like I love you more than Nat loves knives, others are small drawings with cute texts like the one of them with grey hair and wrinkles that reads Growing old together. Tony may or may not have teared up at a few of them, and if he does, no one will know.

He imagines this is what it would’ve been like if he had ever been hunting for easter-eggs as a child. However, notes from Steve are a lot more rewarding than those cheap, poor quality chocolates.

With each one he finds, Tony’s chest tightens and his heart squeezes. Most people believe Tony is the one who’s always super over the top when is comes to romantic gestures, which, to be completely honest, is true. He does the grand, romantic gestures because he likes to spoil Steve whenever he gets the chance to. He likes watching Steve’s cheeks turn pink and that shy smile that crosses his face when Tony’s done something outrageously extravagant.

But… Steve has always been good at the small details. Things that seem insignificant but really aren’t, because they’re intimate and heartfelt and the most Steve things to do. Like leaving a million post-its around the penthouse to make up for being away.

As the collection of vibrant-colored paper notes grows, Tony finds a small box to gather the messages and drawings. The last one he finds is inside the elevator as he goes to meet Pepper before the meeting with the investors.

Good luck, baby. I love you.

***

Tony can’t recall when the last time a presentation went this well; everything went smoothly and the investors were immensely impressed.

He’s still tired as he stands in the elevator though, head tipped back against the wall, and he can’t wait to drop himself onto the couch and wait for Steve to come home.

He frowns when the elevator door opens and something seems… different, is the only way to describe it. The light are dimmed and instead, the room it lit up by candles. The Netflix logo is big and bright on the tv screen in front of the couch, which has been turned into a nest of blankets and pillows, and on the coffee table, there are two pizza boxes that give off a comforting smell that Tony can detect all the way across the room. In the middle of the whole affair is Steve, wearing his favorite pair of sweats and his old cable-knit, smiling widely at Tony.

Tears of happiness well up in Tony’s eyes as he walks towards the couch, shedding his shoes, jacket and shirt until he’s just in his undershirt, and drops himself directly onto Steve, burying his face in his neck. Steve holds him closer, chuckling a bit at Tony’s excited welcome home hug.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Tony echoes, the sound muffled into the fabric of Steve’s sweater.

“Did you have a good day? Good. I’m glad,” Steve says, smile growing impossibly wider when Tony hums and gives a small nod.

They lie there for a while, breathing in the scent of each other, feeling their muscles relax the longer their bodies are pressed this close, fitting together like a perfect puzzle. Tony’s head is the perfect size to fit into the crook of Steve’s neck, and Steve arms makes the best embrace around Tony’s smaller frame.

After a few minutes though, Tony catches a whiff of the Italian spices and lifts his head to look into Steve’s sparkling, blue eyes. “Pizza?” he asks hopefully, and Steve’s smile is answer enough.

Tony sits up to open the box and on it, there’s a post-it. It’s short and simple and it might be Tony’s favorite.

I love you, Tony Stark ♡

“You still think I don’t love you enough?”

Tony swallows hard around the lump that has suddenly appeared in his throat. “I never doubted that you do,” he says soberly. The words feel heavy as they leave his mouth, because it’s true; Steve has never given Tony any reason to question his love for him. Tony knows that Steve loves him.

He knows it by the way Steve runs his hand through his bird’s nest of a bedhead even though it’s greasy and it has gotten too long because he doesn’t want to go the the hair dresser. He knows it in the way he makes sure Tony doesn’t kill himself by only consuming coffee. He knows it by the way they can tell each other embarrassing stories about throwing up after riding a rollercoaster and buy ugly mugs from gift shops. He knows it in the way Steve writes hearts above the i’s and j’s, in the small curves of his handwriting and in the drawings and texts that tell Tony that he wants to grow old with him. He knows it by the way Steve looks at him with his blue eyes and long lashes and by the sincere smile that plays on his lips when he says his name.

They’re silent for a moment, but then Steve leans in, his lips ghosting over Tony’s as he whispers, “I love you, Tony.”

“I love you,” Tony says, closing the final gap between them, sealing their lips in a gentle, sweet, perfect kiss.

[delicioussshame]

Look, I want to say this isn’t an AU where LBH is Lestat and SY is Louis, but... this is totally an AU where LBH is Lestat and SY is Louis, sans vampires. I just hadn’t realised this is what I was channelling when I started this forever ago.

“Shizun… It’s Shizun, isn’t it?”

Shen Yuan turns towards Luo Binghe, for who else could it be? “Yes.”

Luo Binghe, is, obviously, still as devastatingly handsome as he ever was. He didn’t lose anything by switching from the traditional style to more modern fashion. Maybe, Shen Yuan despairs, he even gained from it. Those jeans are literally stopping traffic.

He might miss his long locks though. Short hair suits him, but it wouldn’t feel the same under his fingers.

Shen Yuan shakes himself back to reality. The feeling of Luo Binghe’s hair under doesn’t have anything to do with him anymore.  “Binghe seems like he did well for himself.” He has no doubt on the matter. Managing their wealth through time was a challenge, but nothing an array of trusts, shell corporations, insider knowledge and skilled lawyers couldn’t arrange. Shen Yuan has been living lavishly for decades. He’s sure Binghe did the same.

“So does Shizun.”

The appellation brings a smile to his lips. It’s so ridiculous. Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe had spent centuries together. In comparison, the time Shen Yuan taught Luo Binghe was infinitesimal. The title is meaningless.

Luo Binghe used to say that Shen Yuan taught him something new every day. That they could spend eternity together and he’d never learn enough from him.

That was long ago now.

“This must be similar to the era Shizun came from, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much.” It’s not quite the same. Some events went differently, some didn’t, but daily life is almost indistinguishable

Investing in Tencent still proved profitable though.

Luo Binghe is wavering, obviously wondering if he’ll dare to say whatever he’s thinking of saying.  

It’s probably not a good idea. “Well, it was nice seeing you. I’m sure you have things to do.” Shen Yuan departs.

Or tries to. He’s hindered by Luo Binghe’s grasp on his arm.

“Binghe. Let go.”

Shen Yuan almost stumbles from the shock of seeing Luo Binghe’s eyes swell with tears for the first time in forever. His heart squeezes like Binghe was still his young and eager husband, crumbling under the slightest disapproval. Without his consent, his hand reaches up and wipes those tears away gently, the gesture so familiar it hurt.

“A-Yuan, please, don’t go! Give this disciple a day, no, an evening to catch up! I will take him to the best restaurant, pay for the grandest hotel, whatever he wants, as long as he spares me a fraction of his time.”

Shen Yuan knows better. He can’t falter here. He can’t let Luo Binghe charm him into a nice dinner where alcohol flows until, both of them tipsy, they fall into bed again and Shen Yuan finds himself spending another decade in Luo Binghe’s embrace. Not when his ex-husband’s character obviously still hasn’t changed. “When was the last time this charade worked? You’re just proving why we should stay apart.” The waterworks were cute when they were a hundred. Now, it just reminds him how little Luo Binghe minds being openly manipulative when it suits him.

The tears stop flowing almost as soon as Shen Yuan speaks. “Shizun is so cruel, calling out his husband after so many years spent apart.”

“Then maybe we should remain apart.”

“But I missed Shizun so much! Can he honestly say he didn’t miss me?”

He cannot. Of course there were days where he felt like half of his soul was missing.

There were also days where his freedom made him soar. “Almost as much as I relished being separated from him.”

Shen Yuan thinks the hurt on Luo Binghe’s face is real.

If you were to ask Shen Yuan, he would tell you that in this moment, Luo Binghe probably sincerely thinks he loves Shen Yuan still. If Shen Yuan welcomed his advances, he would probably continue to think so for, oh, at least a few decades. But then the novelty of having him again would fade. Flaws that were once charming would become irritants. His eyes would start wandering until he found a pretty new mortal to keep him occupied for a while. Maybe he’d try to teach this one cultivation, hoping this time, it would stick. Not that it ever did before.

Either way, he would try to convince Shen Yuan that said mortal was a mayfly he shouldn’t bother himself with, and that his jealousy was unbecoming.

Shen Yuan would end up leaving to nurse his broken heart for the nth time.

He’s not going through this again. Luo Binghe had his chances.

They were good enough for each other to last a few centuries. That’s better than most. Shen Yuan and Yue Qingyuan lasted barely three decades before their mutual bitterness killed anything that might have existed between them. No matter how much Yue Qingyuan wished, Shen Yuan couldn’t be Shen Jiu for him, and Shen Yuan had only so much patience for requests to be someone else.

Shen Yuan and Liu Qingge, that might have lasted longer, if Qingge hadn’t died. Shen Yuan had expected it to happen sooner or later. The former peak lord of Bai Zhan wasn’t made for immortality. He needed to be challenged to live. He couldn’t survive in permanent status quo. He had to find the obstacle that ended up being his end.

Shen Yuan hopes his next lives were more to his liking.

Not that it is relevant right now. “Binghe, our time has passed. Return to the place you call home and forget me.”

“I could never forget Shizun.”

Shen Yuan could never forget Luo Binghe either. “I know. This would be so much easier if we could, wouldn’t it?”

The look that crosses Luo Binghe’s face, a mix of melancholy, longing and pain, is probably something reserved for people like them, for whom the passage of time is different.

What would it be like, if they were meeting for the first time, without all the baggage weighing them down? What if Shen Yuan was still a normal human, and Luo Binghe, the dashing immortal bent on seducing him?

He’d probably fall in seconds. He would have no shield against Luo Binghe’s… everything.

He hasn’t been that Shen Yuan in eons. He can barely remember what it was like to be this innocent.

What he was like before Luo Binghe.

Maybe if he lives long enough, he’ll rediscover what it is like, to be Shen Yuan without Luo Binghe.

For that, he has to leave alone. “Goodbye, Binghe. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re enjoying it.” He turns to leave.

“You’re really going?”

The heartbroken, begging quality of his voice almost stops him.

It doesn’t. “Yes, I am.”

The faintest brush of his hand on his. “If Shizun is this certain, then who am I to stop him? I can only hope that he’ll be happier alone than he would have been with me, not that I think it likely.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Shen Yuan leaves.