#to just accentuating the eyes with a bit of white paint/powder

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

NEGATIVES➖➕POSITIVES

[octuscle]

You’re so good at transforming others so I was wondering if I could thank you by transforming you. Who do you want to become? 😊💪

I am almost 27 years old. I graduated from university almost two years ago. Since then, I have been working for an auditing company, auditing the risk management systems of banks. Not a particularly erotic job. But well paid. I travel a lot and my working hours are also less from 09:00 to 17:00. Not good conditions for getting back into shape. I used to be a competitive athlete. Open-water swimming. My shoulders and back are still quite broad… But the waist is no longer as narrow as it was in my best days. Well… The course of life, I would say…

Sunday morning. Normally I would sleep in, go somewhere for breakfast, then maybe do a bit of work. But today I feel like going for a run. At 06:00 in the morning. In the drizzle. I'm really crazy! But running clears my head. After just under an hour, I pass an outdoor gym in the city park. Yawning empty in this weather, of course. I really enjoy it! It's almost 10:00 when I get back home. Now for a hot shower. Uh, no. A cold shower! Hardens off. And then breakfast. Low-fat quark, protein powder, bananas, some fruit. Doesn't taste particularly good. But gives me the energy I need. A bit of Resident Evil 3 to relax. And around 3 p.m. I have to make my way to the stadium. Kick-off is at 5:30 p.m., and I'd like to be in my regular place in the south curve at 4 p.m. Getting in the mood with the boys. Highlight of the week!

Hehehe, that was a good brawl with the opponent's fans last night. That's a good black eye… And my lip is still a bit swollen too. Looks a bit dangerous. Despite the crisp white shirt, navy blue suit and polished black Oxfords. Even after a year on the job, I still haven't got used to getting up early on Mondays. Mondays are usually at 03:30. An hour of push-ups and a bit of weights training, as best I can at home. And then get ready, go to the airport and usually the plane takes off at 07:00 or so. And then I'm back to being the good auditor candidate. It's not as if the job isn't fun. But especially after the weekends, which are packed with hard training and fun with the lads in and around the stadium, the changeover is tough. I can only hope that none of my customers or colleagues ask me who beat me up like that at the weekend. I can't say that I'm one of the militant Ultra fans… Well, if anyone asks, I'll say that it happened during boxing training. They'll take my word for it. At the latest when I take off my jacket and people see my shirt, which looks like it's been painted onto my skin, nobody questions the boxer in me anymore.

05:30 on a Tuesday morning. An hour's run, then an hour's workout in the hotel gym, breakfast, 09:00 at the client's desk. A routine that I would never have expected a few weeks ago when I was doing my Master's degree. With your criminal record, the blatant undercut, the tattoos on your neck and the back of your hands, you'll never get a serious job, my parents complained. But damn it, I'm clever, I'm disciplined and I'm hungry for success. In the cage at MMA, in the fan curve at the stadium, at university and now at work. And fuck, when I show up at a customer's in a suit that perfectly accentuates my athletic figure, I'm surrounded by an aura of respect. Even if I'm the rookie in the project. For the first few days, my colleagues tried to persuade me to go out for dinner or a drink with them in the evening. Not in the mood! I found a club near the hotel where I can train properly in the evenings. Not the kind of wimpy workout I get at the hotel.

I'm so fed up with this fucking Master's thesis. Pumping, eating, fighting… This is what I live for! I've been working at the martial arts school since I got my bachelor's degree. On the one hand in accounting. And also as a trainer. Shit, why do I even want anything else? Would I like it better if I became an desk jockey in some office? I suspect not.

I love the moment when I open my gym in the morning. The sweat from last night is still in the air. Whoever had the last shift yesterday didn't leave anything tidy. I do my rounds and stuff forgotten socks, jockstraps and water bottles into the lost-and-found box. Okay, I wank on it again first. There's nothing like the smell of a used jockstrap that's still a little damp. I don't officially open for another hour, so I have that long to get my body ready for the day with the weights and sandbag. Let's see how full it gets. The place isn't yet self-sustaining. But with my jobs as a bouncer and my OF account, I'm more than able to keep my head above water. At least my tattoo artist doesn't have to worry about me not paying my bills. It's better that way. After all, it's his job to make sure I'm scary!

[insane-arcane]

Getting ready in Jinxes room for your big date the girl sat back on her bed and watched as you used her makeup. She frowned as she sat on her blue and white blankets looking bored.

"You should cancel." She suggests suddenly. Her legs were in a butterfly position and her knees tapped against her bed as her hands played in the blankets below her. You laugh at her playful nature as you start your makeup with foundation. Taking a brush Jinx spray painted with one of her crazy designs, you powder your face trying not to giggle at the irony of putting powder on your face with a girl named Powder behind you.

"We can hang out tomorrow Jinx I promise. And I can tell you all about it then. That'll be fun." You chirp hoping to appease the pouting blue haired girl as you continue to dab at your face, smoothing out any scars or blemishes. You're thankful Jinx always kept extra shades for you and made sure to have your colors on hand so you could use them. Smiling as you finish covering your skin you start looking at eyeshadows.

"Yeah funnnnnn." She hums sarcastically before falling backwards onto her bed with a sigh. Blowing hair out of her face you smile softly watching her pout in the mirrors reflection. Picking up her old rabbit and putting it on her face you hummed sympathetically. You knew how bored she got without you.

"Hey Jinx. Classy? Bold?" You question wanting to include her. Holding up two different pallets she shifted a bit to take a peak. She had seemed off today. Even more so as you got ready for youe date but you didn't know why.

"You look better without makeup." Turning in the swivel chair you were on and giving her a pointed look she pouted getting up. The rabbit fell off her face back onto her cushion filled bed and she crossed her arms looking exasperated. "Either looks fine." She finally responds and you nod slowly pursing your lips as she doesn't look directly at you. Deciding on the more classy pallet you pick your natural toned colors and stuck to something simple yet eye catching. You wanted to accentuate your features not change them.

Taking a second to glide the color carefully over your eyelids, you tap a different color on the side of your nose for contour. Smiling at the results you begin humming a song Jinx liked. Now that your done with the eyeshadow you pick out a pretty eyeliner before carefully applying it not wanting to smear or mess it up.

"How am I looking?" You ask blinking at Jinx so she can see your painted face. You expect her to giggle and joke like she always does but instead she hops off her bed stomping towards you.

"You should start over. I changed my mind, I like the bold better. Let me help." Jinx states reaching for a makeup brush. Frowning at her indecisiveness you roll your eyes and start looking over lipsticks. Pinks. Brown's. Blacks. Purples. Blues. Oranges. Greens. Yellows. Jinx really had everything. As Jinx reaches for your face with a wipe you push her hand away.

"I think I look great." You state really liking wht you did. Besides starting over would took too long. "Classy is a good choice." You state hoping she'll calm down. Jinx simply frowns grabbing a brush and different eye shadow pallet.

"No let me fix it. Please." She begs and you notice how you don't have much time left before the date. She'd been pouty this whole time not wanting tp help you. Now she was trying to distract you. You weren't about to miss this date.

"Why is this such a big deal Jinx? You've been bored and moody all day since I came here to get ready. I thought you'd like helping me." You state before you mess with your hair trying to make it look perfect. "... I mean this guys really nice and they own this cute shop you'd like. They make a pretty decent and honest living and they like me and well... I think I like them." You state honestly. You just really wanted this date to go well.

"WELL MAYBE I LIKE YOU!" Pausing the lipstick tube hovered in front of your partially done lips as you stared into the mirror wide eyed. As you moved your gaze you met Jinxes in the mirror. Her blue hair was frizzy and her eyes were wild as she breathed in and out looking frantic. You'd been arguing all night about this date as you got ready but you weren't expecting that to be the reason why.

Putting the lipstick tube down you close your eyes and take a deep breath. Turning to look at Jinx she seemed panicked now. Her hands began to fidget and she slowly began banging her fist against her head.

"stupid stupid stupid. You weren't supposed to say... now you said. Stupid stupid stupid." She murmered as she looked away from you ashamed.

"Jinx." You call slowly walking up to her as she began to descend into an episode.

"No good. No good..." She mumbles still thunking her head. "Why would they like you? Never you. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." She hisses as her eyes dart around the room.

"Jinx." You bark. She doesn't answer and continues saying horrible things about herself not listening to you.

Grabbing her shoulders forcing her to look at you, you pulled her forward before pressing your lips to hers. You always thought your first kiss would be sensual and slow like what the Madames explained at the whore house and yet this was the exact opposite. It was frenzied and passionate and a last ditch attempt of getting her to calm down.

More teeth and tongue than lips and love it sent tingles down your body and made you feel electrified. Pulling away after a minute, gasping for air you open your eyes just as Jinx opens hers. Sapphire blue stare into (e/c) and as you slowly calm down heart hammering away in your chest Jinx looks so surprised. The only sound is the noise of your loud pants. Blushing as she stares at you a faint pink tinges her cheeks as well.

"I... I like you too." It's a breathless confession. Something calm and gentle after the storm you just unleashed, something that didn't need to be said yet it meant all the world that you did. As she smiled lips smeared in lipstick and cheeks stained with tears you knew you'd said and done the right thing.

Maybe guys were overrated anyways.

[promptis-imagines]

How about Promptis go on their first ever date at an arcade or a fair and they're both nervous at first. They relax after a nice chat and some junk food and Noct notices a giant chocobo plush at a stall/prize counter and tries to win it for Prompto

nananasonatra: Noctis taking Prom on a summer carnival date. They both act like teenagers in love and at the end of the night they ride the Ferris wheel .Noctis bribes the operator to make them stop ontop .Sorry my heads fried in this heat lol 

yes this is exactly what I need. You two have galaxy brains. So I will combine them: first date to the fair complete with shitty carnival games and a ferris wheel extravaganza

They are both very obnoxiously awkward. Prompto can’t stop talking even when he desperately wants to shut up. Noctis is having a hard time speaking at all. They went to the fair because hey, it’s in town! Surely that’s gotta be cheesy and fun. Thing is, both of them are too shy to admit that they love cheesy things (even tho they literally...are going on a date there. They’re doing their best). It’s the way there and the getting tickets where they’re still acting the nervous couple bit, but once they feel the adrenaline of a rollercoaster and stock up on junk food (a horrible choice before going on more rides), they start to loosen up and laugh off the nerves. 

Also I can just...picture that scene. So vividly.

The sky was growing darker by the minute, which was only accentuated by the carnival lights dotting the view. Most of the rickety rides had been conquered, though not without a fair share of screaming on the couple’s part, so the tired boys decided to take a break for snacks before taking on the rest of the event. 

Okay, maybe calling them “snacks” was a bit of an understatement. Two orders of fried oreos, an entire funnel cake, some wildly-oversized corndogs, and a large lemonade. They might have forgotten to grab dinner before the fair in their nervous endeavors, and nothing was healthy at the fair.

Sitting on that bench, laughing and munching on their food, any hint of awkwardness or fear was left behind in some gross seat of a rollercoaster car. Well and truly, this was a real date.

There was only a bit left of the funnel cake in the end. Prompto heaved a sigh, shoving the plate onto Noctis’ lap while his head flopped onto his shoulder. “You eat it,” he murmured.

Noctis pouted. “No, you.” The plate was passed back.

“Noooo, I’m so done, dude,” Prompto whined. “Just take one for the team.”

That earned a snort from Noctis. “What team? And why do we have to finish it?” he questioned.

Prompto paused, then sat up straight again. “I dunno. Feels wrong to just throw it away?” he reasoned. Especially considering that Noctis was the one who paid for all of it. He would feel bad, prince or not.

Noctis lightly bumped him with his shoulder. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s the last thing we have, and I’d rather toss it than have either one of us get sick before our date is over.”

He couldn’t lie, Prompto’s stomach still erupted with butterflies at legitimately hearing Noctis say they were on a date. He’d been dreaming of this for so long that he’d chalked up his hopes to wishful thinking. But no, they were here, and they were having a good time. It was enough to make him grin. “Fine, fine. Throw it away, and we can walk around for a while before hitting something that could make us lose all that food we just ate,” he conceded.

“Right.”

The two of them hauled their trash to the nearest trash can, and Prompto had to laugh at just how much powdered sugar had attached itself to Noctis’ all-black clothing. “Y’know, I applaud your choices to start wearing white,” he teased, making Noctis look down at his shirt.

“Oh, come on,” Noctis grumbled. 

Prompto ran his hands along the worst parts. “No worries, I got you.” It only took a few seconds more for him to note how low the powder had gotten. “Um...”

Noctis huffed a laugh, getting the rest off. “You’ve got some on you, too.”

“I do?” Prompto asked with a confused expression. “Could’ve sworn I dusted myself off, already. Where’s it at?” he rambled, hoping he didn’t look like a mess.

“Hm, right here.” Suddenly, Noctis’ hand was on his cheek, his warm lips pressed gently to Prompto’s in a kiss that lasted all of three seconds. Nonetheless, his cheeks were absolutely burning afterwards.

When they parted, it appeared that he wasn’t the only one. Noctis’ cheeks were dusted a soft shade of pink, though it was hard to see under the harsh lighting around them. 

It took a moment for either of them to say anything. “Did...you get it off?”

Noctis’ lips turned up in a faint smile. “Think so.”

Now it was Prompto’s turn to smile. “Cool. Thanks. What would I do without you?” he joked.

“Dunno. Have powdered sugar all over your face?” Noctis returned teasingly.

“All over? You saying I’ve got more on me?”

Noctis hummed in thought, once again brushing his fingers along Prompto’s cheek. “Nope, got it all,” he confirmed.

An eye-roll from Prompto. “Dork. Let’s move away from the trash can, yeah?”

The two headed back into the bustle of the fair, hand in hand without Prompto even realizing they'd reached for each other. It made him giddy all over again.

Before long, they stopped. A long row of carnie games sprawled out before them, vendors shouting for patrons to step up and take their chances. Stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes were presented along every surface, and it was a safe bet to assume they’d been waiting to be claimed for far longer than necessary.

Prompto looked over to his date. “Got something in your sights?” he questioned.

That got Noctis tugging him towards a nearby stall. “Does a giant chocobo sound good? I’ll try to win it for you,” he stated, all the determination in the world lighting up his eyes. It was rare to see Noctis this enthusiastic about something. Gods, it was cute.

Still, Prompto couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. The thing Noctis had pointed out was giant, which also meant that it was going to be near impossible to get. “I mean, it sounds great, Noct,” he started, leaning against Noctis’ shoulder. “But I’m not gonna get my hopes up.”

Noctis knocked his head against Prompto’s. “What, don’t believe in me?” he returned in mock-offense.

“Oh, c’mon, you know these things are rigged,” Prompto reasoned. “Plus, this is a shooting game. One, that’s even more rigged. Two, we should both know by now that I'm the better marksman out of the two of us."

His boasting earned him a scoff from Noctis. "While I might cave and admit that, it doesn't mean that I'm bad at it. Have a little faith," he requested, giving Prompto's hand a light squeeze. Without waiting for a response, he was off towards the unattainable holy grail of stuffed animals. Oh, to be the carnie that got to proctor this little event in history.

Watching with an air of amusement, Prompto leaned on his elbows over the counter. "Heya! What's the requirements for getting that Behemoth up there?" he asked, gesturing to the comically large bird in question.

The carnie's polished grin focused on him. "Well, buddy, it's fairly simple!" he chirped. "All you've gotta do is shoot at those little targets that are moving across the planks." He made a grand gesture towards the back wall, which sported plenty of painted wooden ducks with red and white targets on their sides meandering in a single file. "Each duckie has a different number on the back. Shoot as many as you can before the time runs out, and your score will be tallied afterwards. Get over fifty points, and the chocobo is all yours. But watch out! Some of the ducks are hiding negative numbers that will reduce your score. So, care to test your skills?"

His speech had sounded so trained and NPC-like, Prompto had to laugh. "No, not me. But this guy wants to give it a go." He tugged on Noctis' sleeve, a grin of pride bright on his face. Noctis, on the other hand, had lost some of that brazen confidence in his expression.

 It was always funny to watch people's eyes go wide. "O-Oh, Prince Noctis! Er, that is you, isn't it?"

"Nah, but I get that a lot," Noctis replied nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders in preparation. "Just a guy trying to win a chocobo for his boyfriend. Can I start?"

The man, seemingly recovered, nodded with his previous vigor. "Of course! Here is your weapon, good sir." After ducking down to grab one of the dingy guns from under the counter, he handed it over. "The timer starts when you first shoot."

Prompto cast a smirk at his boyfriend. "Let's see what you got, sharpshooter," he teased.

Noctis took aim. "Oh, hush. I'm doing this for you."

After a quick "Good luck!" from the man behind the counter, Noctis started the timer with a pop from the toy gun. One duck down, who knew how many more to go.

"Wohoo, got one!" Prompto exclaimed, beaming at a smug-looking Noctis. "Think you can keep it up?"

Still keeping his eyes on the targets, Noctis gave a little nod. "You bet I will. I've got someone to impress," he replied before knocking another off of the shelf.

Prompto snorted, slumping more over the counter. "You say that like you're on a date," he continued.

Another duck toppled. "And what if I am?"

That earned a dramatized gasp from Prompto. "Are you, now? Didn't know you had it in you to snatch a date. Always thought you were too shy." The mocking edge to his words were light, and he couldn't hide the slight giggling that followed. The next few shots hit the wall. He poked Noctis in the shoulder before wrapping an arm around his middle. "Trying to win him something?"

Noctis gave him a knowing glance. "I would be, if he wasn't doing stuff to distract me. Don't be disappointed when I can't get the prize for you," he warned, getting another target down.

Prompto leaned in to press a kiss to Noctis' cheek. "A good marksman should be able to work well under pressure." Still, deciding that he'd messed with him enough, Prompto let go and returned to being an encouraging spectator.

As the timer drew nearer to zero and the little duckies came crashing down, Prompto did have to admit that he was impressed. Especially considering the hindrance that was a rickety carnival gun, the sizeable amount of targets Noctis had managed to hit was most likely more than the average. Though he hadn't expected much of a reward from this mess, part of him was thinking he might be going home with a giant stuffed chocobo.

When the timer sounded, the carnie bounced back to life. "Aaalrighty, let's see how you did!" he said in his merry speech. He collected the last few fallen ducks, then laid them face up on the counter in front of them.

"Sweet, let's count 'em up!" Prompto was grinning as he began to turn over the targets. "Noct, count with me. This one's five," he stated, "and then eight, and…damn, negative six." Oh well, there were plenty more to bring the score up.

Noctis continued flipping over the next few. "Hey, got a fifteen," he boasted, shoving it over to the counted pile.

"Aw, so proud."

The scores varied for the rest of the ducks, some on the smaller or negative sides, presumably to keep the prizes from all being taken. Still, Noctis had gotten a few of the higher numbered ones. With one left to check, he had reached a whopping forty-five. Prompto was tingling with excitement; that chocobo was as good as won.

The last one stared them down with its chipped paint and bright, ducky smile. "You want to do the last one?" Noctis offered.

With a nod and bated breath, Prompto turned over the last one to add the number….

"Negative twenty?" he cried. "Why is that even in here!" Noctis groaned as well, and the two boys slumped against each other in defeat.

The man behind the counter drew up an apologetic smile. "Sorry, fellas, luck of the duck. But you still get to choose from one of the smaller prizes!"

He gestured to the side wall that sported the rest of this booth's treasures. They were way smaller than the grand prizes, more hug-to-your-chest size, but they were still something.

Noctis nudged Prompto's shoulder. "Go ahead and pick one."

"Mh-hm." Prompto's eyes flitted over the options: stuffed dogs and coeurls, moogles, various fruits for some reason, and a mini version of that giant chocobo above their heads. "Not to be predictable, but I do want the chocobo," he decided. So what if he consistently chose them? They were his favorites!

As it was being retrieved, Prompto turned to Noctis with a bright smile. "By the way, good job, dude."

Noctis shrugged, a light mix of embarrassment and pride in his face. "I would've won if it had just been about knocking them over," he reasoned.

Prompto chuckled. "Sure would've. They weren't ready for you," he teased.

"Here you are, sir." Holding it in his hands, Prompto decided that this was officially the best first date ever. How cool was it that his boyfriend won him something at a shitty carnival game?

They ventured back into the crowds, a bit dissuaded from trying any of the other booths for now. The chocobo plush was held securely with one arm while his other hand held fast to Noctis'. Now there was just the matter of deciding what else to do before calling it a night.

"Got any ideas what to do next?" Prompto questioned.

Noctis pursed his lips, doing a quick glance around. "Well, I think we already went on all of the rollercoasters, and you're not putting me back on that drop thing," he said definitively.

That drew a laugh from Prompto. "I half expected you to warp right off of that thing, by the way," he commented. "But fine, something else. How about…." He trailed off, rubbing his thumb along Noctis' hand. "Oh! We haven't done the ferris wheel yet."

What other way was there to end a night at the fair than being sappy while overlooking part of the city from the top of a rickety ferris wheel? Prompto hoped he wasn't coming across as too sappy, though; it was embarrassing, but he really did enjoy those dumb romantic fantasies. Even after being asked out, he was still worried that Noctis might laugh at him for wanting to do cheesy romantic things. Noctis just didn't seem like the type to enjoy that. He knew he was probably being ridiculous, but that didn't dispel the doubt in the back of his mind.

Thankfully, Noctis gave a casual shrug and nodded. "Sounds good to me. We can hit the ferris wheel and then head out for the night," he said.

Relief flooded back into Prompto's lungs, and before long, they were speeding up towards bright lights of the their last ride. Giggling, the two kept it up until they were running and dodging people in the crowd to get there first. Nevermind that they were still holding hands.

The pair stumbled to a breathless halt at the entrance gates, turning to each other with a full-out laugh. Prompto still had his chocobo clasped tightly between his arm and chest.

"After you," Noctis said, finally letting go of his hand to gesture to the open gate.

Prompto landed a playful punch to Noctis' shoulder as he walked past. "Really acting like a prince today, huh?"

"What, I don't normally?"

"Gonna have to give a no to that one, bud."

"Rude."

The worker got them situated in the seat, Prompto first. Noctis lagged behind slightly, turning to the lady in charge before climbing in next to his boyfriend.

Once they were snugly hip to hip, Noctis sighed. "How old do you think this ride even is?" he asked.

Prompto looked up. "Proooobably pretty old," he reasoned. "But I'm sure it's fine. They have, like, inspections and stuff, right?"

Noctis huffed a little laugh. "Hope so. If something does happen, I'll just grab you and warp off of this thing."

"My hero," Prompto teased. Though, as they began their ascent up and around the ferris wheel, the idea that it might break down did start to creep into his mind. A jarring bump halfway there didn't help one bit.

He pressed closer to Noctis' side just as he did the same. Prompto took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the feeling of being close to him soothe him. The warmth they shared was a nice defense against the cold winds, too.

A tiny smile formed on his face when he felt Noctis nuzzle slightly into his hair. "Sorry I couldn't get you the giant chocobo," he heard him murmur.

Prompto gave a slight shake of his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. This one's just as cute. And it's travel sized." He gave the toy a squeeze. Honestly, he was thrilled to have a gift from him in the first place. It was a silly little thing, but it made his heart swell in a way he thought he'd never feel.

As they completed the first rotation of the wheel, Prompto decided to look around more at the fair below. By now the sky was completely dark, making the colorful lights shine brighter. Laughter and shrieks of children reached even where they were up high. He even saw someone drop their cotton candy in a puddle, which he pointed out to Noctis so they could both grimace at the sight.

All of a sudden, they were stuttered to a halt at the top of the wheel. Prompto swung his leg a bit and laughed. "Welp, looks like we're up here forever," he joked.

Noctis snorted. "We'd better not be. I'm not sleeping on a ferris wheel."

"That's your problem with it?" Prompto laughed, making the seat sway slightly.

"There's other issues with living on a ferris wheel for the rest of my life. That one just came to mind first," Noctis said in his defense.

Prompto's laughter continued while he squeezed the stuffed chocobo to keep from dropping it. "Yeah, okay. Sleep is always your first thought."

"Don't judge."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Being stuck at the top really wasn't so bad. They could see everything, and it was just the two of them, despite there being hundreds of people around. It was as if they'd been brought up just to be alone for a few minutes.

A hand rested atop his thigh, and Prompto turned to face his date. And gods, did he look so good with the lights of the city behind him. Noctis' dark hair made him a silhouette, though his features were close enough to make out. His cool gray eyes had a soft shine to them, and he was looking at Prompto in a way that stole his breath. He had to be the luckiest guy in Eos right now.

Noctis quirked a small smile. "Is it…too cheesy if I ask for a kiss right now?"

Prompto paused, then cracked a smile as well. "Very cheesy. Do it," he replied.

"Then can I kiss you at the top of the ferris wheel?"

Without speaking, Prompto slid a hand along the side of Noctis' neck and pulled him in. His lips were tinged with slight cold, but they felt soft as they touched Prompto's. And just like that, they were sharing one of those dumb movie kisses on their first date at the fair. The thought made Prompto's smile grow as he leaned in more.

Once they pulled away, there were a few moments of silence between them. Then the ride began to move again, starting through one more loop before they would be let off.

Prompto couldn't hold back another little laugh. "Good way to end that?"

"Definitely," Noctis said, looking equally relieved and happy. "Now we can't say anything else for the rest of the time so we don't ruin it."

That earned a shoulder punch from Prompto. "Oh, shut up."

"See, like that."

Prompto grinned, taking Noctis' hand in his. "Too bad you're stuck with me, then," he retorted.

Noctis smiled back. "What a shame."

[honestsycrets]

Not My Scene || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ Author’s Notes | fulfillment: party with hvitserk, masturbation with panties, right one too late.

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 4661

❛ genre | angst

❛ summary | once upon a time, hvitserk cheated on his girlfriend. what a mistake that was.

❛ warnings | mention of drugging, mention of cheating, crazy margrethe, crazy freydis, reader is biiiiitch, but a lovable bitch

He could have stayed home. After all, house warming parties weren’t really his style. They were just excuses to booze up. Which, shit, he had. His brothers were busy arguing over wine coolers. Ivar insisted that they were a pussy man’s drink with malt liquor while Sigurd insisted that they could have heavier alcohol if they wanted to! Then were wine coolers really wine coolers or malt coolers?

Ugh. This whole thing was giving him one huge headache and he wasn’t sure it was the frozen tequila lemonade swirled with raspberries that he had downed. It was… well, it was you. You were slinking around wearing a cute tule minidress complete with a black matching cincher. A silky bow around your waist and--

Wait, he recognized that leather jacket.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one wearing it that first day he met you, swirling around in chunky black ankle boots that you were also wearing just by chance.

“Hvitserk!” He hears a group of your friends call out to him. His big brother Bjorn and Ubbe were in the fray. “Come take a picture with us!”

When Ubbe was there, he made it really hard to say no. So biting the bullet and carrying on, he made his way over to the group with his hands shoved in a freshly new hoodie.

“Stand by (Y/N)! For old times sake!” Your bubbly asian friend calls out and before he can really deny her, her adorably pudgy frame pushes him in beside you.

“Come here, bun-bun.” You pose cutely beside him, the side of your breast against his flat chest. “You’re not wearing a white shirt, today, white shirt?” You tease like old times, letting the ache of his heart beat for the times which… things were easier. When you loved him. He looks down to his black v-neck, laughing softly.

“No, guess I’m not.” He notes.

One! Two! Three! The blinding light of a flash marks the end of a photo. You reach onto the top of your head, flicking down holographic bug eyed glasses.

“Nice to see you again!” You wink at him then bubble on past the thin, stringy purple curtains back to the kitchen of your home. He wonders, and yet he knows, you feel nothing for him after falling apart in college.

You had your scene.

He had his.

With an aching sigh in his chest, Hvitserk turns the corners up the stairs to your bathroom. He could do with a cold splash of water to drag him out of this funk. It wasn’t as if Ubbe hadn’t taken to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar were begrudging company in their drinking contests-- spiting each other and loving each other all in one.

Climbing up the hardwood stairs, he comes to the bathroom. Locked with the flicker of a bright yellow light and obscene-- faster, faster off the lips of a couple. He almost thinks its some dude getting his rocks off but then, you like that? The other voice has an equally feminine quality.

Shit, he feels himself grow beneath his pants. He knows its wrong to harass a couple that may or may not be lesbians. So instead of beating down the door, he spots another room. The second he walks into it he knows its a mistake.

You always loved fairy lights. White ones to contrast against your favourite lavender, royal purple and cerulean blue. Deep and vivid while still being light and dainty. Quirky-- like you. He travels his fingers along the airy white of your furniture.

That one he pounded you into while your father was downstairs, claiming that the door better stay open. Then the armoire where… and mistakenly he ambles that way, sliding the metal dangling moon on top of your long cabinet that sits on top of the wooden piece to pull out the one place where you always kept them.

His fingers run across pretty, stringy panties. The other will be the same, he assumes. You always kept bras in one place and panties with another. Your sex toys would be in a sneaky-not so sneaky pouch and god, you would sneak into your bed at night and ride a fat dildo just for him on really good nights. Send him the video while you thought he wasn’t looking.

God damn.

His favourite panties always were those stringy, aqua cheekies with the cut outs. They weren’t there. He closes back up despite catching sight of all of the pretty white, powder pink and dark blue and purple panties that he bought you once upon a time. There’s some other obscure colours even. But his curiosity brings him to your galaxy clothes bin, searching between mini skirts and leggings until he finds what he’s after… his favourites.

Used and soiled by your sweet cunt, he shudders to think of where these might have been. Hvitserk hopes that they weren’t where he thought they were.

Bun-bun. Bunny.

He can hear that stupid nickname. What was it? For your love of bunnies or his man bun that had been chopped off the moment you messaged him, we’re over. God, it burns, it burns. He comes to your bed, squeaking as he lays upon it.

But it wasn’t all bad. There were good times! How cute you dressed up as his very own playboy bunny once. He sucks in air at that very memory on this very bed, shaking your puffy faux fur tail at him. Which really wasn’t a tail but a cheap marketing ploy for a beautiful fucking anal plug.

He should really not be here but thank god he locked that door because the heavy steps outside your door as he loosens his pants would have been killer. Beside your bed is a desk, bearing stupid little k-beauty masks and sweet vanilla lotion. He pumps a bit into his hand, drawing the panties around his cock. To his shock-- there’s still a moist spot.

Did you wear them to bed?

With another man?

A woman?

Or were you being the woman he remembered, watching your favourite porn on x-videos or hentai haven or whatever it was. Your body would grind down upon the chair, a bullet grazing your lips up to your slutty clit for love and shit, he knows how much you used to love gangbang porn.

Shiiiit. He tugs his cock, turning in the bed to turn his nose into your lavish silk pillows. Good for the hair, or some shit. He inhales sharply, working his fist harder and reliving the moments he was so able to lay in bed  with you… once upon a time ago. His strokes lose focus, falling apart in the richest of his memories.

“Bunny?”

Oh no. His nose is still deep in your pillows when he dares turn his face to you. Shock wears your beautifully done up face-- that purple highlighter accentuating your cheek bones and adorably innocent white glitter of your eyes. Shit, he squeezes his dick in his hand.

“You’re not…. You are!” You flick off those bug eyed glasses, tossing them aside as you take a few steps closer. He cringes, turning onto his forearms and backs up as if that can help him find the right words.

To be in your bed-- jerking his cock off.

With your panties.

“I… was… uh.” Hvitserk runs his hand through his slicked back hair, trying to find the right words. You pluck your panties off of his dick, flicking them in another direction. He nearly leaps out of his skin when you fist the root of his cock, sinking onto the bed.

“No need to say anything.” You hum, slapping the head of his dick against your glossed lips. “You missed me, BunBun.”

He wishes he could come up with something, but the only words are a shocked moan when you shove his dick into your wet, hot mouth. Hvitserk cringes, trying his best to still upon the bed. He can’t help himself, kicking out his legs as you suckle him down. It’s a show, taking him as far as you can take and then lifting up off of him like he was nothing.

“Please… no.” He whines at the absence of your lips upon him. But then, your lips sloppily kiss down his shaft in the same way he used to make whilst eating you out. Your mouth makes its way down to his balls, suckling one. Instant pleasure hits him like a train, causing him to uncomfortably shift. His hands search out for the top of your head but then-- you take ahold of his shaft. It’s too much-- it’s too much to have your lips upon him, migrating from one side to another, then on top of his his tip to devour him whole.

“Stop, stop stop!” He shouts for you to stop. Instead of helping though, you ignore him. He spills into your mouth with a great shout, painting the cavern of your mouth with his seed. Your lips seal around his cock, suckling the remains of his excitement down.

Damn.

“Shit.” He curses as you sit up. You push the remnants of his excitement into your lips and despite having gone soft-- its almost as if he wants to go hard allll over again. Your lips quirk into a wicked smile.

“You’re as easy as I remember.” You say, bouncing off of your bed and going into the connected bathroom. He hears you in the bathroom messing with your brush and toothpaste.

“What are you doing?” He asks from your bed— as meek as the bunny he was named after.

“Cleaning your spunk out my mouth, what do you think?” You say. A few minutes later, you resurface from the bathroom fluffing your hair a bit.

“Well? Get out, Bun Bun.” You busy yourself with applying a bright, popping lipstick. “If we get caught, it’ll be all your fault.”

You were kicking him out without talking of that? Whatever that was… it was random. He tucks himself away into his pants and you toss him your panties to confuse him further. You pop the door of your room open, flicking your glasses back on.

“Keep them as a momento. Since you’ll never get my pussy again, slutty bun. Maybe Margrethe is out there somewhere.”

I was drunk!

It was his fault.

All of this-- losing you, sleeping with Margrethe. Yeah, he knew that you were in your right to break up with him. But as he composed yourself in your bathroom, he kept convincing himself that there was something there.Most women would have tossed him out on his ass if there hadn’t been! Not sucked him off.

Even with all that in mind, he wished he could remember actually sleeping with Margrethe. This was the exact reason you kicked him out of your shared apartment at the time-- throwing trash bags of his shit out the door with. Every time that he tried to recall it, it was like descending into a deep black abyss. Perhaps guilt had done him in. Water is cold on his skin, sweat on his body mattifying. He digs into his jacket pocket, covering himself in what you always called a whore’s bath of cologne.

Fuck this… fuck this. Why couldn’t he… remember? Why!?

“Hvitserk.”

Behind him, Ubbe stood with his latest fling. A curvy, dark skinned girl with beautiful waved curls that wave in front of her face. Her slanted eyes dark and obscure… but she was warm. Different from what he was used to seeing on Ubbe’s arm.

“Yeah.” He smoothes out his hair, a few stray honey locks in his eyes.

“Laarni and I are going home.” Ubbe slides his arm behind the small of her back, leaning in to plant a small kiss on her head. Her plump lips spread into a sickly bright smile-- and of course it did. They were happy. “Margrethe and Freydis are here. Are you coming home?”

“I’ll be fine.” He says, staggering from behind the couple. “I just need a drink.”

Against his better judgement, Hvitserk stays.

Freydis and Margrethe were an unlikely sort of friends. He can’t say how they really got to know each other, only that as he sways down the steps, they cluster about drinking. Freydis chitchats beside her boyfriend Eric.

“--a little cherry makes it all better.” He catches the tail end of Margrethe’s words. “Hvitserk!”

Shit, fuck. She’s here. Hvitserk gives a light smile as he turns into the cluster of friends. Beside them is a cooler of drinks. He slips down to pick up a beer, popping it open and standing beside them. Margrethe sticks to him like a magnet, one that he quickly shaves off of his arm.

“Uh, I think I gotta go…” He murmurs an excuse for himself. Past Freydis’s sassing bob and Eric’s smooth hair, he finds you standing in the way you always used to when you watched him. A pop of your hips out, weight on one hip and your nail to your lip. The other held some kind of hard liquor. You shift the glass around between your manicured fingertips, tilting your head like the time you overheard he ate a pound of sourbelts at the mall.

“Why? Do you have someone new?” Freydis asks, bobbing her hair in a sassy little bob.

“No, I just…”

“Margrethe is here to take care of you.” She cuts him off, running the back of her hand over Margrethe’s soft cheek almost affectionately so. The touch could even be called tender. The thought whizzes by his head that the two must have been sleeping together because god, Margrethe leans into the touch.

“Uh, no I-- I think I’ll go home.” He slurs. “Lemme just go get a snack before I call a uber. I’m kinda wasted.”

Before he can move, Margrethe grasps his shoulder. She reaches out to take his drink, holding it with a sickingly bright smile that Hvitserk can’t see past.

“Get me some too! I’ll hold your drink.”  

Against his better judgement, he slips off to the kitchen. If it means getting away from Freydis, he would do anything. There was something… wrong about her. He couldn’t place it. It would just take a little bit, he reasons. Then he could get away from them. Besides he swore that there were wings when he came in earlier!

“Okay.”

Something didn’t sit well with you.

Yeah, Hvitserk wasn’t your responsibility any more. You should have just left things where they were in that room. He could have your panties and Margrethe’s pussy. Who cared! You certainly didn’t-- but in the same breath…Hell yeah you cared, that was the bitch that he cheated on you with.

You convince yourself to focus on what you were talking about. But of the corner of your eye, you catch something that doesn’t set well with you. Freydis digs into her glittering handbag, handing Margrethe something small. A vial that is smaller than her finger. Margrethe fiddles with the top, cracking the plastic top open… and then she spills it within what you were sure was Hvitserk’s drink. She swishes it around just enough that the liquid might mesh with whatever he has been drinking. There’s no guessing what that was.

“Sis, take a picture with us!” Your twin brothers call out to you. Ahh, shit. Being popular wasn’t all what it was cracked out to be.

Before you could get back to Freydis and Margrethe, Hvitserk came back with a plate for his once fling. Margrethe took it from his fingers, handing him his drink. Hvitserk sets his hand into his pocket.

“It’s kind of salty.” He motions, chugging down his drink. His face scrunches up tight. “So is this shit.”

“Must’ve gotten one of those skunk beers like me.” Eric nudges Hvitserk’s arm with a closed fist. Innocently Hvitserk thinks nothing of it. Shit, it happened. He moves to toss it into a recycling bin when you grab his wrist tight.

“Shit!” He jumps, heart pumping. “(Y/N), where did you come from?”

“Did you drink that?” You ask, light strobing off of your lovely cheeks. His face contorts as if he can’t understand why you were so protective over a drink. Maybe it was yours?

“Uh… was I not supposed to?” He asks.

“We were just leaving!”

From his side, Margrethe clings to his arm. You almost throw back something at Hvitserk, but he’s the first to insist that he wasn’t going with her. Desperately he looks toward you as if concerned that you would believe her-- her over him. Reasonable, you think. You recognize the glazing look over his eyes little by little. Just like last time.

“The fuck you are, you ratchet little bitch.” You sneer.

“Excuse me?” Margrethe rolls her neck around, a pink bob of hair bobbing on her head. Hvitserk looks between his ex and well, his other ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re playing with?” You snap her hand off of Hvitserk’s toned upper arms. A small, hope filled smile creeps onto his face-- but not at all for the reasons that he originally hoped.

“(Y/N), I’m uh, I’m fine.” He deflects the impending fight. Beside Hvitserk, Freydis and Erik creep closer. It should have been intimidating, but pushing Hvitserk behind your arm you ball up your fist. He staggers back from your arm shielding him.

“Get out of my damn house.”

It’s the first and last warning. Freydis looks toward Erik as if to threaten him-- but with two muscular twin brothers pushing past those clustered around the fight, Erik takes the high road. Sensing her boyfriend’s skepticism and perhaps having some of her own, Freydis reaches for Margrethe’s hand, pulling her in the way of the door.

“Come on Margrethe.” She says. “You can see Hvitserk later.”

The pathetic little whimper signals the fact that yeah, they’re leaving. As you turn back to Hvitserk, it’s with the realization that the glazing of his eyes has only thickened. If what you thought was true, was really true, time would be on your side.

“Are you okay, Bunny?” You ask.

It’s slow at first. The sluggish way he scratches the back of his head, arms like heavy weights. Everything in his body slowly begins to feel weaker, more prone to accidental brushes when his perception is throne off.

“I don’t feel so good. I’m sleepy.” Hvitserk’s speech shifts, almost pleasured. “But you look good. Real good.”

You shift around Hvitserk, bringing his arm over your shoulder. You grasp his waist to help him up the steps to your bedroom.

“Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” You ask.

“For fuckin’?”

“Not quite, bunny boo. You’re drunk baby.” You respond in a smooth, quick response.

“I want it. I miss that tasty fucking pussy on my face.” Well, at least he wasn’t agitated.

Whatever it was that they had slipped into his beer, you couldn’t say. But knowing Hvitserk and his fear of doctors, you take him up to your room. Your brothers pull open the door and help you lower him onto the bed. Hvitserk’s drops his hands at his sides, laying limply upon your bed while you slip off his shoes.

“You okay, Hvitty? I’m going to change you, okay?” You slip off his socks, loosening the button to his belt. His eyelids are heavy with his need to sleep but he still manages to nod at you loosely.

“Okay… Does this mean I get a kiss? I got a headache…” He whispers while you strip him off his pants. His pasty legs are still beneath the fabric-- even more when you pull them away. You’re not entirely sure how the loss of motor function doesn’t bother him.

“Kiss?” He whines heavily while you walk over to your dresser. His old basketball shorts in your dresser being one of the main items. You lift up from his hips to place a gentle kiss on his lightly damp forehead.

“Kiss.” You affirm. At long last Hvitserk smiles loosely, but its not without its drawbacks. The heaviness of his eyes begins to overtake him. How did I get here? Before he can even get the answer to that question, he loses himself to the wave of exhaustion.

If this time was like last time, so you feared, Hvitserk wouldn’t remember anything from the next day. On the top of your bed was a thick, green blanket. Black shadowing makes the outline of a cutesy kitten with pearly white fangs mewing at the viewing party. You drape it over Hvitserk’s body, watching his respirations closely.

Through the night, it all becomes obvious.

Catching Hvitserk in bed with the claim that… he couldn’t remember anything. Back then it seemed like a handy excuse for a man that was caught in bed with his woman. Why not? You had caught him in his ball faced lie! What man woke up in bed with a woman and could not remember any details of the affair?

Apparently, Hvitserk.

The next morning comes as a shock to Hvitserk, puking his brains out into the trash receptacle on his edge of the bed the second he woke up. He felt his mind wandering… and again, that black hole of space owns his head.

Except this time, it’s not with Margrethe. Its your perfumed pillows under his head. Your quirky sheets and most importantly, your body by his. In his daze, he can hardly appreciate the fact that yeah, it wasn’t her this time.

“Shit… what happened?” He collapses upon the pillows at long last. You lay beside him, hands on your chest. A plain black slip covers your body-- evidence that he didn’t fuck you. If he had, shit, that thing would have been chucked onto the floor. His favourite was spooning naked with you, after all!

“What do you remember about the night I caught you cheating?”

That was a hell of a way to wake up the morning. Reflecting back upon it, the whole… weekend was a blur. He could hardly tell down from up or left from right. Not that he thought that you needed to know how he handled that night after catching him in another woman’s bed. No woman deserved that.

“I don’t remember. You… I guess you found me in bed with her when you came home from your overnight shift. So you broke up with me then and there.” Hvitserk states with stale emotion as if he’s reading lines handfed to him out of a book. Of course you knew that!

“Before that.” You roll onto your side with eyes following the fuzzy line of his sideburns down to his jaw.

“I don’t.” He states uncomfortably. What kind of man was he to… to… “Do we have to talk about this? You didn’t explain how I got here.”

As he points it out, you don’t have the heart to tell him why. Really why, not because of what happened that night. What could have happened before was what frightened you. What did Freydis, Eric and Margrethe want with your Bunbun? What had they planned to do to him?

“The girls drugged you.”

Hvitserk turns to face you in the bed and meets you with uncertainty. No, not uncertainty glinting in his innocent grassy eyes. That was… fear inking his irises. After all, it… if it was true… that could only mean one thing to him. Hvitserk wasn’t going crazy like Ivar and Ubbe told him he was while recounting the story.

It wasn’t because he was a whore who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That wasn’t the reason that he lost time with the one woman that changed his traitorous body from succumbing to lust. No, he hadn’t just… laid on his back and slept with someone else because he wanted to. The whore, skank, slut, easy, she’s better off without you at school. It wasn’t him.

“What… what do you mean?” He dares to ask, knowing indeed the answer to his own irrelevant question.

“She was planning to rape you, Bunny. If I… hadn’t been watching, Erik and Freydis would be in bed with Margrethe and you.” Your words settle like a heavy stone in his gut. Of course, he always speculated there was more.

But… this? Margrethe would do this to him?

He never thought he broke up that cruelly with her for Margrethe to ruin his world. Not just his world, but to strip away something that belonged to him: his memory. For so long Hvitserk did not believe his own brain. He lays there, staring at the smooth lines of the top of your room.

“She… raped me.”

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Your hands come over his waist, winding around him to hold him nice and tight. His hand falls down to the one around his waist.

“It’s okay Bunny.” You soothe. “It’ll all be okay.”

It certainly didn’t feel okay. Not when he considered all that he lost. Yet…

“Don’t tell Ubbe. You know my brothers.” He glances over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes that he holds still. If Ubbe found out then the rest of his brothers would surely know. Sigurd could hold no secrets and he fears what Ivar would spill with that big mouth of his. Because, after all, what kind of man allowed himself to be drugged by a woman? He was meant to be a protector. To protect YOU. Not the other way around.

“You should tell him.” You whisper, setting your cheek upon his shoulder. “In your time.”

All this time he thought he drank too much.

“Maybe one day.” Hvitserk nudges his arm over his cheek, rolling into his shoulder to dry the wet lines of his shame. You know that he would not. Pressing him-- after all that he had gone through, that would have been a mistake. After a decisive moment, you reevaluate everything.

“Bunbun?”

Hm? Hvitserk grunts in his response.

“Was that the only time you… “cheated” on me?” You question with great skepticism. That wasn’t cheating. Of course you knew that was a woman that worked hard with at risk youth who had gone through the same experiences as your sweet, adorable bun. Who was now much less of a Bunbun than he used to be.

“Why would I do that?” Hvitserk turns back around. The tears he spilled earlier are dry and now, well, he only shows his outrage to the assumption that he had done it upon his own. Not exactly the most graceful of appeals but he knows the manner in which you speak. If there was any doubt of that-- he rather take care of this pesky issue now.

“I never gave you reason before then. (Y/N) if I ever did you should have asked me! I wouldn’t lie to you. You are the only reason I would cut my bun, (Y/N). The only one!”

Sure, he never did. But in your concern for going through that feeling again, kicking Hvitserk out with trash bags of his things, slouching against the cold walls of your constricting apartment… you had to ask. You hold his green eyes in an accusatory glare, searching out the sign of his fault. There’s none.

“Then… you can come back home.” Your hands travel behind his head, picking at the short little bits of hair that have been making a sad little ponytail.

“What?” He murmurs. A smile escapes his lips, growing until you give him a little tug. “You serious?”

“But first you have to grow out your hair, Bun!” You exclaim. What kind of bun didn’t have a proper bun!

“Done and done.”

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit,  @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102

[daintyephemera]

[btgalaxy]

Estrella ~ BTS fantasy!au

➳ pairing: jin x reader, jimin x reader

➳ genre: fantasy!au, fluff, angst, slight smut

➳ word count: 3.5k

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Chapter 1

        The silk beneath your fingers is woven from the cocoons of the larvae of the Bombyx Mori, situated in the Marblewick Woods, hidden amidst the viridescent flora and foliage; expensive, and by all means worth the levy considering your deep slumbers each night, encased in a handcrafted cloud. You extend your arms above your head and arch your back as you stretch each muscle, bending over your fingers till they touch, intertwining them to push your arms further. You sigh as you sit up, blinking to adjust to the warm sunlight spilling through the window like a waterfall of silhouettes depicting a palace window.

“M’lady.” Your handmaid, Nova, walks in with a blush gown draped over her forearm wantonly, “Breakfast will be served at 7.”

You hum, allowing yourself to fall back against the pillows with a deliberate huff. Nova quietly laughs at your lethargy as she sets the dress down on the cream chaise longue by the window, overlooking the grounds.

“I’ll be back in 5 minutes, m’lady, to help you prepare for the day.”

You moan again in response, waving a hand in dismissal. Your eyes are closed, so you can hear only the gentle footsteps of her movement back to the door, and the click of the handle, signalling her leave.

She understands your reluctance to wake this day. The day you shall meet the dreaded Prince of Orion. The man you shall marry in due time, uniting your neighbouring kingdoms through your matrimony and dominating the East of Estrella. You’ve fought your parents on the matter relentlessly, insisting you’ve no desire to be married, nor to unite Lyra and Orion, that the two kingdoms should stay separated as Andromeda intended. But they dismiss your argument, and tell you not believe in such ‘fairy tales’.

The history of Estrella is widely debated, these days. Scholars and historians are very aware of the Great War, but its origins have been tied with mythology and legends, that the Gods and Goddesses the land once worshipped have now been deemed folklore and labelled as bedtime stories for the children of Estrella. You, however, believe otherwise. The stories inked onto the pages of the ancient books in the palace library are far too vivid and haunting for them to not be real; you see them in a way others can’t, a way one blinded by societal pride cannot.

You flutter your eyes open again, gazing up towards the ceiling, admiring the billowing patterns. Each room has been painted by the art maestro, Calypso Vega. She spent seven weeks cooped up alone in your palace, adamant to remain undisturbed till she’d completed her task. And she did it brilliantly. Every room is different, and tailored to its tenant. Yours has been painted to depict a story, the story of Andromeda and Calvus, starting from the left with fires and war, all the way to the right with Andromeda returning to the Onyx Sea. Perhaps that’s why the stories have stayed with you after all these years, having woken to them each morning and dreamt of them each night.

Nova returns far too quickly for your liking, if you could have it your way she’d not return at all and you’d spend the weeks curled up under your horrendously expensive duvet with your eyelids closed and mind wide open with lucid dreams of the Gods and their unparalleled power. But instead, you’re begrudgingly lifting your legs out of the comfort of your quilts, and lowering your feet against the cold of the marble flooring.

“The Queen chose your dress for the meeting today, she said the prince adores warm colours on a woman.” Nova smiles at you, attempting to be excited, but you give a blank response dropping your nightdress to the floor and stepping into some tan drawers, manoeuvred gently upwards to your hips by Nova’s practised hands. Next, she brings a white chemise over your head and you brace yourself against a post of your bed as she wraps a corset around your waist, tugging at the strings hard enough you stumble a little, even with the aid of the mahogany pillar.

“It’s a bit tight, Nova.” You choke out, as she pulls the final strings into a knot.

“The Queen requested I do it tighter today.” She apologises, “She wants you to look perfect.”

“I assume breathing isn’t a constituent of perfection then.”

She chuckles lightly, “I’m afraid not.”

Your crinoline is tied neatly around your waist, the metal bars already resembling a cage as your lower half becomes achingly heavier. Then finally, Nova takes the dress strewn across the chaise longue and requests you raise your arms. You do so, as you’ve been taught the past eighteen years following the same daily routine.

“It’s a beautiful dress.” Nova compliments, adjusting the trail and lacing up the back, “It was fashioned by a tailor in Bellmead, with the instructions the gown should be a warm colour, and suitable for a queen.” Nova laughs to herself, “He must know his way around royalty. And after the people see you wearing this, well, the nobles will come storming through his door.”

You watch your reflection in the mirror; the face staring back at you- sometimes it feels as though it isn’t all there. Like a part of you is missing, a part that might be small but undeniably cardinal. And the thought lingers on your mind nearly daily now, the notion that there’s something, some component of you or your history that’s hidden behind years of luxury and affluence, veiled by your palace life and highly regulated existence. Nova notices your expression and her features soften at the sight as she places a comforting hand on your near bare shoulder.

“Let me do your hair.” She guides you to the stool at your dressing table, littered with various perfume and cosmetics, all of the highest quality shipped from all over Estrella. Your mother says if it isn’t well made, then it isn’t worth having. That may just be the mindset of a queen, however.

Nova starts to pull at the locks of your hair into a bun, a few strands let loose to frame your face. You’re immediately aware of the resemblance of the hairstyle to the Queen’s usual updo, and frankly not surprised. By duplicating her appearance, you echo a sense of security to the new kingdom, a sense of experience; a false sense, but nonetheless present.

“Beautiful, m’lady.” Nova smiles slightly, placing the sleek silver brush on the white painted rosewood, picking up a translucent powder to lighten your skin, and then a small pot of red tinted balm for your lips. She swipes a generous amount of eyeliner across your upper lid to accentuate the striking colour, before finally bringing some wamrth back to you with a rose blush over the apples of your cheeks. You look like some sort of porcelain doll, just like every other royal or noble in Estrella.

You reach forwards, clasping onto an oceanic scented perfume from Volantis, down South. You spray over your neck and wrists, rolling your head back as the pungent aroma wafts up your nose and calms your frantic thoughts. You love the ocean, and anything that reminds you of it, but as princess of Lyra you’ve no chance to parade off to the warm beaches and fall asleep on the sand to the sound of the crashing waves. You’ve other duties to attend to. Like marrying a Prince you don’t love.

“Breakfast will be served in 20 minutes, m’lady. Would you like me to escort you downstairs? Or will you wait for someone else?” Nova’s insinuation is clear, but your head doesn’t feel right to see him right now. Not the day you will be engaged to someone else. The day that you will never be able to see him again, touch him again, kiss him again.

“I’ll go now.” You swallow down the bitter anguish biting at your throat, avoiding her gaze while you take a necklace from the jewellery stand and clasp it around your neck.

“He’s not angry.” Nova begins, and you busy yourself with numerous bijouterie, “He wants to say goodbye.”

“Well he doesn’t get that choice.” You snap, “He is a servant and I am his princess and he shall respect my wishes. Stop stepping out of your place, Nova.”

Although your words are harsh, you’ve no other way of coping with this seemingly endless torment. And so Nova bows her head respectfully, apologising quietly before ambling out of the room, head hung low. You shut your eyes and sigh, immediately regretful. She didn’t deserve that. You begin to walk out of the room, to go and tell her sorry, that you don’t mean what you say and you’re just stressed and upset, but instead you’re met by the force of the door from the other side. And his face appears from behind the gaping oak.

“Jimin?” You choke, as he lets out a breath of relief at the sight of you. He comes tumbling in all of a sudden, wrapping you up in his arms and burrowing his head into your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume till his lungs are full and he has to breathe out, the gust flying over your flesh. “Jimin you can’t be here.”

“Nova’s on watch.” He mumbles, pulling back and settling his hands on your waist, as close to you as he can possibly be. You daren’t look him in the eye; you know you’ll cave. And he immediately knows what you’re doing.

“Y/N look at me.” He murmurs, bringing one hand to your chin, his thumb delicately grazing over your crimson lips setting your heart alight. His mere presence sets you on fire with pure, unadulterated passion and desire, and you know you’ll never be able to fend him off whilst alone in your bedroom with 20 minutes before anyone comes looking, so you can’t meet his gaze. You have to keep your eyes shut. For your sake and for his.

“Baby, look at me.” His breath fans over the tip of your nose, your eyes still screwed firmly shut.

He tugs you closer, “If you won’t look at me then I’ll have to kiss you.”

You’re eyes shoot open to this, beyond certain the moment kisses you all self-control will be lost to the aching depths of the Onyx Sea and never to be retrieved. How long has it been since you’ve looked at him like this? As the princess, your schedule is frequently packed with meetings, lessons, appearances, trips, and his servant duties are to be attended to all but 4 hours of the day when he sleeps, so you haven’t looked at him like this in a long, long time.

“Y/N,” his voice is deep, husky, ravenous, “I can’t believe you’re marrying him.”

You purse your lips, glancing downwards, “I don’t want to.”

“But you are.” His response is fast, but he continues slowly, deliberately. “You’re going to marry a man; a man that’s not me. And he’s going to touch you, and kiss you, and hold you at night, and flaunt you off to the public. He’s going to love you and I’m going to be stuck here for the rest of my life watching the woman I love give herself to another man each night.”

You aren’t sure when you started, but you’re crying now. Cautious tears, of course, careful not to tamper with your freshly made up face, but you can’t control the rate at which they come out. Jimin’s words are too harsh, too real to deny. And it’s making your heart ache.

“Jimin,” you breathe.

“I love you, Y/N.” Your heart stops for a second. “I love you and you must know I’m yours eternally.”

You finally meet his gaze, boring into you and encouraging the tears brimming at your eyelids, “I know. And I’ll always be yours.”

Then he does the one thing he shouldn’t do. He kisses you.

His lips are warm and soft, as they always have been, although the intensity of the kiss is beyond your usual, slow pace, this is frantic and fuelled by desperation. Perhaps if he shows his love hard enough, then you won’t have to go and marry some bastard prince? The thought is overlooked by lust as Jimin walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the bed and he’s clambering on top of you, mouth still working against yours.

The room’s getting hotter. The air, thicker. But you won’t stop him. This may be your very last chance to feel the way his body contracts when you touch him, the way his lips concede when you push back hard enough. And you don’t want to forget, so you savour each second.

He pushes down against you harder, his hands becoming more and more rapid with their movements as you trail your own across his pectorals and towards his abdominal muscles, flexing against your fingertips. He feels so good. His lips find their way to your neck, one hand situated on your hip and the other slowly sculpting the curve of your back as it sinks dangerously low. The breath in your throat hitches as he sucks harshly on the tender flesh of your collarbone, and you have to distract him with your lips again before he can mark you and leave you tainted for the Prince.

He’s always loved marking you. Preferably somewhere people can see, but he’s had to settle for the more discrete places. He has never and will never be able to announce his love for you publicly, as he so desires to, so by leaving a mark on your skin- it satisfied his possessiveness over you, your body. It was proof enough that you belonged to him, that you weren’t to be touched by other men.

Just as things become increasingly fervent, frenzied, fanatical, three gentle knocks on the door signal to you both that your time is up. Your mouths cease their movement, but neither of you go to move from your position on the bed, with Jimin’s chest pressed against yours, legs entangled carelessly. He sighs, pressing his forehead against yours and observing you through hooded, libidinous eyes.

“I don’t want you to marry him.”

“I don’t want to, either.”

The reality is tragic, but you’re both aware that there’s no choice in the matter. No easy way out. No running away. You just have to face this, meaning you will be married and he will be at the palace still, serving dinners and cleaning toilets.

Another knock at the door. “I won’t ever forget about you.”

The words must be a stab to Jimin’s chest as he holds his breath, digesting the situation of you with another man, thinking about him.

“This is too much.”

“You’re perfect, Park Jimin.”

“For you, I am.”

Nova enters abruptly, unaffected by the compromising position she finds you in and interrupting you mid-conversation. Jimin scrambles to his feet, offering you a hand as he pulls you up next to him, bowing his head to your handmaid.

“It’s 8, m’lady. We need to go to breakfast now.” Nova insists, somewhat apologetically.

“Yes, Nova, of course.” You blink rapidly, processing. Then you walk out of the room without looking back at his face, certain you will end up staying if you do. This way is better, this way you can remember him normal with you, gazing down at you hungrily with a venereal glint in his eye and a loving caress on your waist. It’s how you want your memories with Jimin to remain.

Nova escorts you downstairs, down past clusters of maids all frantically putting up decorations, watering plants, folding sheets, polishing, cleaning, dusting. It’s alive with a maniacal enthusiasm to prepare the palace for the Prince’s arrival over the next hour or so. He’s due mid-morning.

The breakfast room has been set up for a crowd you aren’t accommodating, as usual. The numerous platters of food bestrewn over the rich maroon tablecloth would fill an army, let alone three little royals sat so far away from each other they can barely hear another speak.

“Good morning mother, father.” You smile politely, biting back the despondency of parting with Jimin a meagre few moments ago.

The King grins expectantly, “A good morning indeed, Y/N.”

Your mother mimics his expression, “You look so incredibly beautiful. I knew that dress was worth the extra expense.” She continues to gush incessantly about her hardships unearthing the perfect tailor to craft your perfect gown, and how you should be abundantly grateful for all her hard work. You can only seem to manage a miserly nod of ‘appreciation’.

“The Prince is apparently the most attractive royal in Estrella, according to Lady Faye,” the Queen takes a polite sip of her morning beverage, “She says he’s an incredibly polite and handsome young man. The ideal suitor.” She seems to be grinning from ear to ear, but you can’t reciprocate. Not with the thought of your true illicit love hanging over your head like a guillotine.

“I shouldn’t expect any less for our Y/N.” Your father chimes.

“I think I’m finished.” You announce, sighing at the plate in front of you, barely touched.

“But you’ve not eaten.” Your mother squeals, peering over to see all the immaculate pastries and fruits surrounding you, untarnished by a greedy touch.

You wet your lower lip, “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re nervous is all, darling. You should eat.”

“I don’t think I could.” You get up from the seat, pulling out the chair as a server comes rushing over to hold it for you, “I think I’ll retire to my room until the prince arrives, if you’ll allow me.”

The Queen seems to think over your request, a little reluctant to see you leave so hastily before she can perpetually rattle on in your ear about the indefatigable advantages of a matrimony between two kingdoms. The first of it’s kind, she’d brag.

She pushes her lips to the side, “I don’t like you all alone in that stuffy bedroom. You can sit in the gardens until his arrival. The sun will be a blessing, you’re looking slightly pale.” Probably because you’re about to be married off to some foreign prince you’ve never met.

You bow your head respectfully, “Of course, mother. I’ll take a walk to the lake.”

“You haven’t very long before he arrives, don’t muddy the ends of your dress.”

Surprisingly, you’re genuinely thankful for your mother’s suggestion, even on a day she’s unrelentingly overlooking your wishes. The warm, mellow breeze outdoors lifts your mood ever so slightly and wallows up beneath your dress, wafting over the bare skin of your legs. It takes you to a place where life was much simpler, easier. Where you weren’t being forced to marry and you cared only of heedless frolicking in your pinafore and crying for Nova when you couldn’t reach the fruit on the King’s beloved blackberry bushes.

The lake ripples as the ducks sail through the lukewarm water like some picturesque vision only sought out in the depths of your most tranquil dreams, as though you’re in a sort of fictitious world. It’s always been that way; you know your life is beyond the imagination of most of the civilians inhabiting Lyra. Although they aren’t living in poverty, their lives will never come close to equalling the luxury and splendour of yours.

Suddenly, you feel something pinch at your shoulder as talons grate over your smooth flesh like needles. You feel Apollo’s beak nuzzle against your tied back hair, pulling some of the strands out of place in the process, nipping at the skin of your scalp. The small Phoenix has been living on these lands for centuries it seems, well before the palace was built. She is the one creature your parents permit to occupy this land, partly, however, because they wouldn’t know how to make her leave; she abides by her own rules. You slowly raise your hand to caress her oxblood wings, feathered with patches of vermilion and gold, creating a balayage resembling a flame.

“Hey Polly,” you coo, regretting not taking a pastry out from breakfast to feed her. She wobbles back and forth on your shoulder for a second, balancing herself before spreading her wings out and arching her neck backwards. She’s exquisite, truly. Her striking colours incite a blaze in anyone’s eyes, an unparalleled beauty.

The sudden ringing of bells, however, startle her, and she’s immediately off your shoulder and flying low across the lake, raking one talon through the water and frightening off all the ducks. You watch her shoot off into the sky before processing the sound ringing in your ears. The bells. The bells that signal an arrival. The Prince.

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[justaramblingromantic]

Thriller Night

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou, Tsukasa Eishi, Tsukasa Hi’en (OC), Tsukasa Chouko (OC)/EiRin

Type: Canon-divergent AU, Post-series, Peerless-verse, Freestyle

Word Count: 4022

A/N #01: Tsukasa!Family shenanigans: Halloween Special! It’s the spookiest time of the year and the whole family gets ready for a frightful night out! 

“Rindou, I need help-”

The redhead lifted her head by the dresser where she had been putting on the final touches for her makeup, just in time to see Eishi wander into their bedroom, fussing over the rather unusual design of his bowtie. Like her, he had already changed into his costume for the evening, and in his case, he was dressed smartly in a black pinstriped suit with a snowy white dress shirt, that which subtly emphasized his long, graceful limbs, his masculine, whipcord lean build.

He was fiddling distractedly with the black, bat shaped cravat with the long, elaborate, spindly wings as he wandered over to her, bewilderedly trying to figure out how to wear the elaborate accessory, hopefully without poking someone’s eye out in the process. Rindou set down her makeup brush after filling in the last of the details on her face…her blue face. Eishi paused briefly and did a double take once he glimpsed of her amused, impish features…that beloved, familiar expression presented in a way he had never seen before.

She stood up and did a quick, prancing pirouette for him, preening mischievously and showing off the full effect of her cheery patchwork dress and the intricate detail of her costume makeup.

“How do I look~?”

He gazed at the black needlepoint ‘stitches’ that she had penciled and shaded in along the seams of her rose tinted lips across half her cheeks as well as down one side of her face, from forehead to jaw. There were even lines of the faux amateur sutures circling the circumference of her slender neck and stretching across her slender clavicles, before disappearing down the modest neckline of her charmingly simple ragdoll dress. Dramatic black eyeshadow smudged her twinkling gold eyes and made them glow in a mesmerizing, near preternatural shade, and a coat of dark mascara over her dense lashes further accentuated that dramatic doll-like effect. Her long crimson hair fell in lustrous waves down her back. She was also powder blue from head to toe, in the spirit of keeping as true to the character that she had chosen to portray this year. More haphazard lines of needlework drawn over her arms and legs with black body paint completed the rest of her appearance, further adding to the illusion of a true ragdoll.

“…Very spooky,” he solemnly gave his verdict at last.

She grinned at his stamp of approval.

“Good! ‘Coz I’m done, so now’s your turn. Ah, don’t bother with the bow tie yet, Tsukasa! I gotta put on your face paint first~”

He mentally resigned himself for what was to come ahead. But Halloween was a once a year event, so they usually went all out and in the process he was always roped into joining the festivities. Nobody actually asked him if he wanted to be in it or not; he was just automatically included, for a very obvious, redheaded reason. He didn’t dislike all the fuss, though. Rindou always made it fun or at the very least quite entertaining. There was always something different to look forward to every year…and this time was no different.

She pulled him to sit down on the edge of the bed, and then she turned briefly back to the dresser to prepare her concoction of paints from all her little colorful pots and palettes that a visual makeup artist friend had recommended, and he got ready to become her living canvas. His only consolation was that he wasn’t the only one. The other two had turned out decently enough…though they probably wouldn’t mind too much even if she doodled prolifically all over their little faces.

“I leave myself in your capable hands.”

She snickered with a maniacal glee that wasn’t really very confidence inspiring. “Yes, please do~” She turned back to him brandishing a small tub of white paint and a clean brush.

“Now, close your eyes and be still!”

Fifteen minutes later, she finally set down her brush, took a step back, and surveyed her handiwork with satisfaction. She sighed happily.

“I’ve got the most handsome husband in the world.”

He opened his eyes cautiously and gazed upon her pleased expression. Even now, after all these years together, her easygoing, random praises still had the ability to make his heart beat a little faster.  

“Why are you saying that after you painted all over my face, though.”

She smirked at his mildly exasperated query.

“’Coz you’re still the most handsome even after I’ve drawn a giant wiener on your forehead~! I’ll gladly look at this gorgeous mug for the rest of my life even if the ink never rubs away-”

“…What.”

Dawning horror quickly replaced vague bemusement, and then he moved so quickly to the mirror to verify the authenticity of her statement, he practically teleported. She burst into laughter at that priceless expression on his face. She also hadn’t seen him move that fast ever since that time Chouko suddenly professed the urge to potty when they were at the beach and the nearest restroom was a good half a kilometer away.

There were no wieners to be found, however.

She peeped over from his shoulder, appearing in the mirror innocuously beside his reflection, mirth reflected in her bright gaze. “Trick or treat!” she chirped, laughter still evident in the lilt of her voice. He met her eyes through the mirror with chagrin.

“Rindou…”

There were no penile-shaped anything drawn on his bone white face… No, literally – his lean, angular face was now bone white. Eishi blinked. He paused again to study himself. His new eerily alabaster complexion extended all the way down past the neckline of his equally white shirt. The only other contrasting color on his pallid appearance were the black face paint that were carefully smudged over the hollows of his lavender eyes. A grotesque, jagged line of black also ran across the seam of his pale lips and over half the length of his cheeks, painting a faint, ghostly smile on his face.

He looked grimly…dashing…in a ghoulish, macabre sort of way. Even his hair seemed to compliment his entire appearance.

She poked his shoulder with one finger to regain his attention, grinning faintly. “Now we fix your bow tie and then we’re ready to get this party started.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

“Adorable offspring, time to go~!”

Rindou stood with her arms akimbo and hollered cheerily down the hallway. It didn’t take long before she heard the muffled response from the two youngest ones in the family.

“Coming!!”

“‘Kay-”

She turned back to the living room where Eishi was just tugging on a pair of gloves to complete his costume. The articles in question made his graceful, adroit hands look downright skeletal – the back of the black gloves were embedded with pieces of faux finger bones for a creepily authentic 3D effect.

Pitter pattering footsteps thumped down the hallway not too long after.

“Chou, please don’t run,” the little girl’s father rebuked absently just as she popped into view. Chouko skidded comically to a stop when she saw her male parent, her lavender eyes wide, her mouth falling open with amazement at his cool, debonair appearance.

“Papa…?”

The seven year old still looked visibly surprised by her stunning discovery, as if she had just learned something new and bewilderingly unexpected. “…Papa is…handsome?”

Rindou snickered at her daughter’s innocent proclamation, whereas Eishi was trying not to sigh. Next time anyone remarked upon his ‘astonishingly modest and down-to-earth’ character, he would be sure to give due credit to his family, namely his wife and daughter in particular for their exceptional ego-deflating ability.

His only other ally in this family plodded into view then, as usual looking like he had just been disturbed from a nap, even when Eishi knew that was not the case. Like his sister, he, too, paused briefly when he saw his father. Slit pupiled gold eyes gleamed with interest and appreciation.

“Awesome costume, tou-chan,” the younger redhead remarked. The nine year old was at the age where things like the undead, zombies and skeletons were extremely exciting subjects to explore and think about.

Meanwhile, Chouko had wandered up to him and was tugging at his pants. When Eishi looked down, she raised her arms expectantly, wanting to be picked up. She was starting to become a bit too big to be carried around, but no one seemed to have shared that memo with her doting papa, who unhesitatingly lifted her and held her in his arms readily enough. If anything, Eishi was acutely aware that it would not be too long now before Chouko herself would no longer want to be coddled like that ever again, so he might as well make the most of it until that time inevitable crept upon them.

Small hands patted his cheeks affectionately, and lavender eyes the exact shade as his own peered at him. “Papa is sooo cool,” Chouko declared with a firm nod after a solemn inspection of his newly upgraded features. It was amazing what a bit of (costume) makeup could do, isn’t it. Eishi could not help but feel his chest puff up a little at his mini lookalike’s heartfelt praise. In a few years’ time, Chouko might likely revise her opinion when it came to her parent’s level of ‘coolness,’ but for now her father was more than happy to take that compliment.

“Thank you, Chou.”

“Is Chou-chan not afraid of papa when he looks like this?” Rindou asked, grinning. Chouko shook her head loyally.

“Papa is papa! Chouko’s not scared at all! Papa’s only scary at work; Izumi-nii says so!”  

…What was his sous chef telling his daughter now, Eishi wondered exasperatedly. Rindou was less reserved; she burst into laughter again.

“That Kenjiru always was a funny one, huh,” she chortled merrily. “No wonder you like him so much, Tsukasa.”

“…I never said that.”

“No, of course you didn’t~” But she could tell all the same, when he found people he genuinely enjoyed working with. He was more reserved now when it came to letting people in too close, compared to back when they were still in Tootsuki, in the sobering aftermath of all that went down with Central and Nakiri Azami. There was a distinct line between professional respect and friendship, and Eishi was careful never to mistake one for the other again.

As such, anyone in the same field who could exasperate Eishi to the point of breaking that glass wall by sheer personality alone was perfectly alright in her books. Heaven knew that Eishi certainly needed more interesting characters to spice up his daily life.

Hi’en pressed into Rindou’s side, content to be silent and let his family’s conversation flow over him like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Sometimes, it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all, but his gaze was clear and alert as he eyed his parents and sister, and he observed all of their interactions with an astuteness and a level of comprehension that was uncannily mature for his age. Rindou rested her hand on the top of her son’s crimson hair and affectionately combed through the tousled strands. Predictably, he leaned into her touch more, and she gently ruffled his hair some more.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, puppy,” she remarked fondly. “We still need your cute face to go trick or treatin’.”

Chouko gasped loudly at the highly likely possibility of her nii-chan drooping off. She swiveled in Eishi’s arms to frown down at the older boy.

“Nii-chan, you promised no nappy until we finished trick or treatin’!” she reminded him with as much fierceness as her current gaptoothed appearance could let her. Her front center teeth had recently fallen out, making way for the adult set to grow in. She was a bit self-conscious after being teased about her missing two front teeth in class, but it was her parents’ completely unbiased opinion that her shy, lopsided smile was cute as all heck. “We’re goin’ home wit’a mountain of candy this time!”

Rindou cheered at Chouko’s ambitious agenda. “Yep, we’re gonna conquer the neighborhood and come back with the largest bounty ever!! Awesome House of Tsukasa, let’s do our best!”

“Yeahh!!!” Chouko rallied enthusiastically, wiggling to be let back down now. Her amused papa obliged. His youngest child scooched off to her brother’s side and bounced antsily on the back of her heels, eager to start.

“Let’s do the roll call before we head off!” Rindou declared. “Tsukasa family, who are we this year?”

Chouko’s hand shot up. “Me, me!! I wanna go first!” the white haired girl was more than eager to introduce her character and show off her costume.

Like her papa, her cherubic face was painted to look like a skull. Unlike Eishi, her design was less austerely gothic and more sweet and colorful, like a sugar skull. The bone white background were interspersed with bursts of flowery lavenders and dark pinks that complemented her big eyes. Cheerful, stylistic lines and curves bordered her forehead and danced across the bridge of her button nose in graceful inked outlines that randomly bloomed into florets and ferns, and tiny little black butterflies fluttered across her cheeks whimsically. A pretty ring of flowers sat upon the crown of her fluffy white hair, and she wore black tights with prints of a skeleton’s legs underneath her pastel lavender tulle princess dress with a poofy chiffon skirt.

Despite that cute cotton candy appearance, she made a comically aggressive pose. It was coincidentally the same pose that their sensei in Aikido class had taught her for throwing people.

“I’m the Pumpkin Princess, defender of Halloween! Hyahh! I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!! Whoever tries to take Halloween away, I, the Pumpkin Princess, will beat up with no mercy!”

Rindou had whipped out her phone and was happily snapping photos every which way. Chouko was also more than willing to oblige her mama, gleefully making various poses to show off her costume, pleased that her attire was being thoroughly appreciated.

“Way to go, Pumpkin Princess!!” she cheered. “Beat ‘em all up!”

Eishi gazed at his beaming wife and daughter. Usually, ‘beat ‘em all up’ was the last thing he wanted to hear when it came to his daughter’s upbringing, but in this case, it seemed appropriate. Questionably appropriate.

“Do your best tonight, Pumpkin Princess,” he added, and Chouko was so happy she was practically glowing.

“Haiii, Chouko will~!”

“You’re up next, favorite firstborn!” Rindou called.

“I’m your only firstborn, kaa-chan,” Hi’en pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re also my most favorite firstborn~” Rindou insisted with cheeky smile.

Hi’en wanted to sigh at his mother’s noisy boisterousness, but his lips was twitching upwards on their own somehow. As per the Halloween tradition of the Tsukasa family, he started to introduce his character.

“I’m the Pumpkin Prince. I like candy and people with common sense. I dislike trouble. If you give me a treat, I’ll let you keep your brains,” he uttered calmly.  

“Nii-chan, you’re so boring. You gotta be more exciting than that!” Chouko rebuked, poking her sibling in the side. Hi’en poked her back immediately, eliciting an indignant squeal of laughter from the younger girl as she danced away out of his reach.

“I’m a zombie. Have you seen energetic zombies?” he retorted. His sister stuck her tongue out at him.

The nine year old wore a black leather jacket unzipped over a tattered white shirt that had been stained with fake blood. His blue jeans were ripped and dusted with chalk at some places to give it a dirtier look. His face was pale from the white face paint and there were even darkening purplish blue bruises on there to emulate stages of decomposition. Red were smudged liberally on his chin and pallid lips to imitate blood, and there were even bits of material that had been soaked in dark crimson dye stuck to his cheek and around his mouth that looked startlingly like flecks of raw human flesh.

Hi’en had made all the costume modifications himself after searching for all the related information online, and had even insisted on carefully applying the visual makeup on his own. He was rather pleased with the overall grisly effect. Next year, he would like to try an even more challenging style.

Kaa-chan was always very encouraging and enthusiastic when it came to helping him with his exploratory projects. He had been interested in the topic of death and decomposition lately so his cool kaa-chan had brought home an actual flying fox skeleton when she came back from one of her travels the other day, and they had learned to identify the anatomy of all the parts together. That skeleton was currently mounted on his wall inside a special frame, and it was his most treasured possession at the moment. All the boys in his class were envious of his luck – they would never be allowed to bring this sort of macabre things into their houses.

When he mentioned to his parents in passing that he thought that it was interesting to study dead things, tou-chan had taken him and Chou to the natural history museum to view all the amazing exhibits and fossils displayed there one day after school. Kaa-chan had wanted to go too but she had work, and besides, random strangers sometimes liked to stop them to talk to kaa-chan and take photos with her when they all went out together, so maybe it was just as well she wasn’t able to tag along. The three of them had spent the entire afternoon wandering through the halls of the museum until closing time, exploring all the treasures and secret knowledge that the building guarded, telling of stories and factoids derived from the remains of beings that had once lived a very long, long time ago. Even Chouko who tended not to find old, dead things fascinating (unless she could eat them), had been captivated and had made tou-chan read every exhibit signage they came across aloud and explain what each meant.

His friends were wrong. He wasn’t just lucky. He also had the best parents in the world.

“I’m so proud; my ‘lil brain muncher is growing up so fast,” Rindou was saying. “I remember just not too long ago when you wouldn’t go to bed without your favorite stinky pillow and cried up a storm when your tou-chan could not take it anymore and snuck it away to wash-”

“Kaa-chan. Stop.”

Chouko was giggling so hard at her nii-chan’s quietly aghast expression that she was snorting like a little piglet. Nii-chan was usually always so laidback so it was funny to see mama ruffling his feathers so easily.

“Kaa-chan, are you recording?”

“But of course! I’ve got all the videos of you and Chou-chan in your Halloween costumes from the years you were born till present,” Rindou chirped, beaming from behind her phone and looking very proud of herself for this achievement, considering how busy both Eishi and her work schedules were. “Do you know; you were ‘bout six months old when you attended your first Halloween party? We swaddled you up real nice and snug and placed the cutest little sunflower beanie on your little head. Your tou-chan carried you around against his chest in a baby carrier. You were such a huge hit at the party – most popular baby ever…and you slept through the whole thing!”

Hi’en silently eyed his father with weary accusation at the embarrassing recollection which he had absolutely no memory of, but Eishi only shrugged. “Your mother’s idea.”

“It’s ‘coz you’re our precious little sun, En-chan!”

Hi’en could not help but feel his cheeks flushing at his mother’s happy words. He had never met anyone more openly loving than kaa-chan, and could only admit defeat before her boundless affection.

“…”

Eishi rested his hand on Hi’en’s shoulder, and squeezed subtly. He recognized that flustered expression – it showed on his own face often enough, after all.

“Mama, what ‘bout Chouko?” the seven year old demanded to know next, not to be outdone when it came to being loved by their parents. “If nii-chan is the sun, then is Chouko mama and papa’s precious little moon?”

“Yes, Chou-chan. You’re our sweet little moon~ The cutest one!”

Hi’en took his mother’s phone from her and directed the camera right back at her. It was a little embarrassing to be fussed over so much by their parents. “It’s tou-chan and your turn to do the introductions.”

His parents glanced at each other. Rindou’s lips lifted. Eishi’s head tipped to the side. It was as if the two of them were having an entire conversation even without having to speak.

Then, Eishi moved first. He sketched a slow, elegant bow before the beautiful ragdoll.

“Good evening. Jack Skellington, at your service.”

Rindou was trying not to smile at his solemnness. She lifted the skirt of her patchwork dress to her knees and returned his greeting with a proper curtsey.

“Good evening to you too, Pumpkin King.”

He straighten from his bow and met her eyes. He lifted one gloved hand towards her, quietly seeking her favor.

“…My dearest friend… my dearest Sally, if you don't mind... I'd like to join you by your side. Where we can gaze into the stars...”

A delighted grin grew on her face at his recital of a very familiar quote. She stepped towards him and took his hand, allowing him to draw her close. Their fingers entwined, and he cradled her palm against his chest. Eyes shining, she joined him to finish the rest of those words.

“…And sit together, now and forever. For it is plain, as anyone can see. We're simply meant to be.”

Chouko clapped her hands to her mouth, her shoulders quivering as she tried to contain her giggles at her parents’ acting.

“Whaddya think, kiddos? Think we can win the ‘Papa and Mama Best Couple Costume’ competition like that?” Rindou asked, still grinning, cuddled up happily against their father. The siblings exchanged a glance.  

“Papa should also princess dip mama at the end!”

Eishi broke character and looked briefly dubious. “…Dip your mother? Did that happen in the movie?”

Rindou concurred. “No, I don’t think so. ‘Sides, I’m not too sure ‘bout your papa’s dipping skills…”

Eishi was vaguely offended by that. “My dipping skills are not that bad…”

“The only thing you’ve been dippin’ a lot all this time is meat in marinate, I reckon,” Rindou teased back, which of course naturally incited his competitive nature. His arm tightened around her waist.

“I’ll show you a great dip-” Without warning, he tipped her right over, as low as he could go, much to her startled shriek of laughter. She of course ended up grabbing at him for dear life, and she pulled at him so hard they ended up overcompensating-

Eishi’s eyes widened. “Rindou, stop-”

They went down in a messy tangle of limbs; Eishi barely had time to cup his palm over the back of Rindou’s head before they hit the ground. Not that she seemed to have registered his efforts to save her from a concussion; she was so amused by his spontaneity that she was still cackling her head off.

“You really suck at this dipping thing,” she was telling him in between chortles. “You need to dip me more often.”

Chouko’s cherubic face popped up on the corner of the phone screen amidst the chaos. “Nii-chan, still filming?”

“Yes…”

The graphics on the phone blurred briefly as Hi’en shifted and turned the camera around until the entire family could be seen; he and Chouko in the foreground, their parents still halfheartedly untangling themselves at the back. The youngest Tsukasa immediately made peace signs and grinned a friendly gaptoothed grin at the camera while her brother was a picture of bland placidness.

“Tou-chan, kaa-chan look over here-”

Eishi and Rindou lifted their heads just in time for Chouko to start off the countdown, their startled expressions plain as day once they realized what was going on.

“What-”

“Wait, wait-”

“One, two, three!”

“Happy Halloween!!”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A/N #02: Soooo hard to think up another canon otp with EiRin’s coloring, but I settled on Jack and Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas in the end because if you think about it, their story is very similar to EiRin’s! The Pumpkin King who’s weary of doing the same thing over and over again and wants to experience a ‘new world,’ as well as the sweet, brave ragdoll who’s worried about her dear friend and wants to save him from his unhappiness - he recognizes her efforts and her feelings in the end, and they grow even closer together...it’s a perfect choice!! <33 

Hi’en and Chouko are growing up so fast too - I feel like a nostalgic grandma all over again, lol. 

[dantediscoversfic]

Chapter 40: The Crap Cave

“Dante! You found us!” Clio said as I hovered awkwardly in the doorway of the art room that first day of school during lunch period.

She bounded over and grabbed my elbow to draw me into the oddly dark classroom. The overhead lights were all off, the window shades partially drawn down and gloomy pop music I vaguely recognized as The Cure droned from a cassette player. About ten kids were sprawled out around the room, most of them sporting various degrees of punk/goth/New Waver style. Two corset-clad girls in billowy skirts drew intricate designs on each other’s arms in black pen; a couple dressed in “normal” clothes was making out with gusto in the corner by the potter wheels; a boy wearing all black continually skimmed his pointer finger over the top of a Bic lighter flame; and the rest were eating lunch, chatting, scribbling in notepads or singing along to the music. Clio flicked the overhead lights a few times to get everyone’s attention, eliciting a few winces and hisses and boos from the group.

“Everyone, listen up, this is Dante. He’s new. He’s from Texas, but try not to hold that against him. He’s a brilliant artist. Dante, this is everyone. That’s Raija, Jane, Sachi, Fletch and Kelly back there sucking face, Joseph, Ann, Dave, Forest and Vee.”

I was greeted with a few head nods and finger waves, except for the couple making out who kept at it with sloppy yet admirable enthusiasm. Everyone went back to their conversations as Clio led me closer to the girls she’d pointed out as being named Jane and Sachi.

“So, Dante from Texas, welcome to 'The Crap Cave’”, Clio said using air quotes. “We have lit mag meetings here and also make our own ‘zines and stuff. Raija’s mom Ms. B is the art teacher—she just stepped out for a minute—so she doesn’t care if we hang out here as long as we don’t you know, perform ritual animal sacrifices or set anything on fire. Again.” She coughed pointedly in the direction of the boy with the lighter seated a few desks down from us and the girls chuckled. Seeing my apparent confusion she said, “See, Joseph’s a bit of a pyro and went through a destruction of property phase last year, didn’t you, Jo-Jo?” The boy in question grinned slyly up at us. “But he’s got it under control now,” Clio continued. “He channels his urges into sculptures where he can use an actual blowtorch from woodshop.”

“Blowtorches rule,” he said and cast me one more glance before focusing all his attention back to his lighter and intrepid pointer finger. I couldn’t help but notice that all his fingernails were painted black and he was wearing eyeliner and dark lipstick like the girls.

I pulled my gaze away from him, not wanting to stare too hard and be rude. “What did you call this room? The ‘crap cave’?” I asked Clio. “Did I hear that right?”

“Oh yeah, you heard me right.”

“Do I even want to know?”

Clio laughed. “Don’t look so scared, we know how to use the bathrooms like everyone else. It’s a sort of long story. You ever hear of The Batcave?”

“You mean like from Bat Man comics?”

“No. Well yes, but no. Same but different. The Batcave is this famous club in London for people like us. Bauhaus, Robert Smith, Siouxie, Nick Cave, Specimen all hang out and play there. Jane actually got to go there this summer, that lucky bitch,” Clio knocked Jane’s shoulder with friendly admiration. “So we kind of started calling it that in homage to the club like a year ago. But then the school had this gross mouse problem and their little poops were, like, this constant presence in our lives, so somewhere along the line we started calling it ‘The Crap Cave’ instead. Because that's how we roll.”

“The mice were perfect and adorable, not gross,” Sachi said.

“Sachi, no. Just no. The mice themselves might have been cute but their poops definitely weren’t.”

The two girls bantered about whether the mice should have been saved and kept as pets or if they were indeed an icky health hazard while I took everyone in, trying not to gawk, and sat down to eat my packed lunch. I was fascinated by the group’s collective style: a motley assortment of teased and spiked dyed hair, leather jackets, ripped band t-shirts, corsets and lace, fishnets, heavy boots, winged eyeliner, black lipstick and nail polish, powdered white faces, spiky hardware chain jewelry mixed with rosaries, crosses and pentagram necklaces. Some of the boys were even wearing makeup, which was something you hardly ever saw in El Paso. Joseph, the pyro boy, was particularly fascinating to me. His raven hair was teased out as much as Clio’s and his dramatic eye makeup accentuated his blue eyes and delicate, almost pretty features. The flame from his Bic lighter cast a warm glow on his ghostly pale skin.

Clio must have caught me staring because she leaned in close to my ear and said, “Don’t worry, Dante, we might look at little scary but we don’t bite. At least most of us don’t. Forest over there is saving up to get his teeth filed, but it’s not for blood sucking purposes. It’s because it’ll look badass.”

“Wow. My old school in El Paso was a Catholic private school so we all had to wear uniforms. It’s so cool you can wear whatever you want here. And be whoever you want. Do you all make your own clothes? I love your corsets,” I said to Jane and Sachi.

The girls grinned at me with approval and Clio said, “I knew you were a good egg, Dante. Jane made the corsets. She’s an amazing designer and sewer. I think the rest of us get by with thrift stores, hot glue and a crapload of paperclips.”

“I’ve never really thought about my clothes before,” I said. “But now I feel so boring compared to you all.”

“Aw, there’s nothing wrong with being a normie,” Clio said and patted me on the back. “It doesn’t make you boring.”

“Well, if you want to try something new, let me know,” Jane said. “Jo-Jo’s my twin brother. I make stuff for him all the time. Cravats, vests, things like that. I’m sure he’d let you borrow something.”

“Wow, thanks. You think I’d look good?”

“Yeah, for sure. But don’t let us pressure you. We dress like this because it feels right, right? But it’s not for everyone.”

The girls nodded.

“How did you all know you wanted to get into goth stuff?” I asked.

Jane said, “Well, for me, growing up I loved making clothes and dressing up since forever. Halloween was my always my favorite holiday. I was obsessed, like obsessed. Like I’d start planning my costume and how to decorate the house six months in advance. And after it was over each year, the next day I’d get so sad and cry for days and beg my mom to keep the decorations up and let me keep wearing a cape or whatever to school every day. So when I figured out that I could dress however I wanted whenever I wanted and basically have Halloween all year round and have my clothes express how I feel inside all the time, it was like a big weight was lifted.”

“Do people make fun of you?”

“I mean, sure, dicks are dicks,” Jane said.

“We get all sorts of ignorant comments at school, on the street, wherever. Like…‘Hey Morticia, Halloween is over,’” Clio lowered her voice to a dopey male grumble.

“Or ‘Errr….Do you sleep in a coffin?’” Jane said.

“Or ‘You look pretty hot for a dead girl!’” Sachi said.

“Or my personal favorite, the classic ‘Going to a funeral?’” Clio said with an epic eyeroll. “Yeah, your funeral if you don’t shut up about it. Please. But there are lots of people who aren’t asshats and you can just ignore the losers.”

“Yeah,” Sachi said. “People say things like ‘Oh, you’d look so pretty if you didn’t dress like that’ but this is how I feel pretty and beautiful. I didn’t feel right before. Now I feel good. Right. Like myself.”

“Raija’s mom is super cool because she’s an old hippie and gets it,” Clio said. “But my mom is still waiting and praying for the day when I let her dress me all in pink pouffy dresses again. Sorry Anita, not gonna happen.” There was an edge to Clio’s voice when she talked about her mom that I hadn’t heard from her yet. It made me wonder what her home life was like.

Sachi said, “Yeah, my parents were all worried at first that I was depressed and wanting to kill myself. They tried to have an intervention with all my aunties and cousins. ‘We’re worried about you, Sachi.’ ‘This isn’t the real you.’ Um, first off, yes it is. And second off, I’m so much happier now than before when I felt like a fake.”

“Yeah, people think that we do this for attention or as a cry for help or because we’re suicidal or worship Satan or are in a cult, but that’s not true at all,” Jane said. “I started making clothes for myself when I was ten. This isn’t a ‘phase’. I’m not going to just grow out of it.”

“And finding people who are into the same bands and fashion and movies and everything makes putting up with all the weird looks and comments easier. We’re here for each other, ” Sachi said.

“And sure, we get attention,” Clio said, “because we stand out with our awesome amazingness. But it’s not like we do it for attention.”

“Yeah, I totally get it.” I said. “I think it’s great.”

The girls smiled at me and I wondered how it would feel to dress like them, if that would feel ‘right’ for me or not. I understood what Sachi had said about feeling like a fake, though, and not liking how that made me feel. I felt that way when I used to tell people my name was Dan and not Dante. I felt that way still, a little. Because I didn’t quite know what it meant to be totally free and open with myself and the world and the universe. Not when it came to the biggest secret I had. In El Paso, I felt like I already stood out by not looking Mexican enough, by liking art and poetry and books and astronomy too much. It was enough to blend in and not get teased or bullied for being a little strange. Now I wondered if I flipped the script and really tried to stand out—if I dressed all in black and put on makeup and spiked my hair and embraced my innate weirdness—if that would make me feel more like me. It might make me feel tough and cool and badass for a little while, but I doubted it would make me feel more like myself the way it did for this group. How did I know, though? I’d never tried it before.

I wondered what Ari would think of my new friends. I bet he’d like them. And then I wondered what Ari would look like in black nail polish and eyeliner. I bet he’d look like a dark glamorous rock star. The thought did funny things to my insides.

Then the art teacher, Ms. Baldwin a.k.a. Raija’s mom, came in. She had gray hair in a long braid all the way down her back and wore a long flowy dress and bangle bracelets. She turned the overhead lights on and said, “Hey darklings, the cruel daylight beckons. Gotta get ready for the next class. Lunch is over in five. And you two, yoo-hoo, Earth to Fletch and Kelly! Please rein in your raging hormones during lunch if at all humanly possible? I can’t have anyone getting pregnant on school grounds.” Everyone cracked up at that and Fletch and Kelly turned beet red but finally disentangled their entwined limbs (and tongues).

I had an art class with Ms. Baldwin later in the day so I introduced myself.

“Hi, I’m Dante Quintana, I’m in your painting class during sixth period.”

“Dante, it’s so nice to meet you. You’re new, yes? This lot showing you the ropes?”

“Yes, Clio invited me to eat lunch with her and be part of lit mag.”

“That would be lovely. I’m the advisor, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of you. How are you finding Chicago? Settling in all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am! Please, call me Ms. B. Where are you from?”

“El Paso.”

“Ah. I’ve only been there once. EPMA is a lovely museum. Have you been to the Art Institute yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“We’ll be doing a field trip later in the year, but if you are a lover of art you must go. It’s one of the prides of Chicago.”

“Thanks, Ms. B, I will.”

"Now if you’ll excuse me, Dante, I have to prep for next period. See you in a few hours!”

Ms. B went over to her daughter Raija, who had been sitting off to herself drawing in a sketchpad for most of lunch, and gave her a quick side hug before disappearing into a supply closet. Since everyone else was getting packed up I ate the rest of my lunch quickly and consulted my schedule to see where I was headed next.

“You’re in sixth period drawing?” I looked up and saw it was Joseph who had asked me the question. Standing up instead of hunched over the desk I saw how truly long and lanky he was. He was about a foot taller than me.

I nodded up at him and tried to smile but had a hard time keeping eye contact.

“Cool. Me too.”

He flicked his lighter a few times in his right hand and then grinned a lopsided grin at me before heading out into the hallway right as the bell rang.

This was shaping up to be a much different first day of school than I had expected.

[sayukiuniverse]

Geisha Makeup 101

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[Student Post]

Hey everyone! It’s Rumi again and for this week, we’ll be talking about the traditional makeup of a Geisha.

Giving off an ethereal and enigmatic look with the contrast of pale white skin, midnight-black hair, and stark red lips; Geishas are immediately recognized by their very unique makeup that has not changed for over centuries. Have you ever wondered how they achieve this look? It’s actually a very delicate process that takes a lot of skill and time, and watching a geisha do their makeup is like a performance in itself.

Geishas use a special type of wax called bintsuke abura for their base to make sure the makeup is long-lasting. It also creates a protective layer to prevent their skin from getting irritated by the amount of heavy makeup on their skin. After this, they apply a white paste made from oshiroi(white talcum powder) using a special bamboo brush, starting from their neck to check the consistency first. Both geisha and hangyoku(trainee) leave their nape uncovered, with a shape of “v” or “w” outlining the bare skin. What many people don’t realize is that contouring has actually been a technique done by geisha since the beginning. Before completely applying the white paste to their face, they would apply red makeup around their eyes to accentuate the nose bridge. After completely applying the white paste they sponge it down to create a smooth finish.

In the past, majority of geishas would completely shave off their eyebrows because they would draw them a bit higher, but nowadays they would either glue it down or simply paint it a bit higher up and in a straight line. For hangyoku they would draw it with a slight curve, similar to a half-moon, to show youthfulness. Before, the eyebrow and eyeliner makeup was made from charcoal, but now they also use modern makeup brands. They also apply a modest amount of red eye shadow around their eyes, and accentuate their eyebrows with red makeup too.

A geisha would not be complete without the iconic petite red lips. The red lipstick called beni is made from steamed safflower petals. A geisha would have her upper and lower lips painted, and a hangyoku would only paint her lower lip. They do not fill in their lips western-style, and instead draw it smaller and just a bit fuller for the lower lip to create the image of a flower bud.

Check out the photos below to see Fukagawa geishas applying their makeup together.

Difference between maiko (hangyoku) and geisha

Watch out for our next post as we spill some secret beauty tips and skincare routine of Geishas!

Geisha Makeup 101 was originally published on Sayuki

[btsfaris]

All I Want [tom holland a.u] P.2

A/N: Hiii! Hope you enjoyed P.1! I’ll be posting part 3 tomorrow once I finish editing and all :)

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Smut.

Words: 2.2k

-

I waited most of my week and this evening looking at my phone, hoping to get a text message from Tom. But I received none, not a message, nothing. Not even a simple call or voicemail. Perhaps he had just forgotten? Maybe something came up? Now was not the time to stuff silly excuses into your head.

Shaking your head, you throw your phone onto your bed. What a shame, you thought. You had such a good time talking to him, and you thought he did as well but apparently not everything is as great as it seems.

Sighing, you get off the soft cushion of your bed and head to the shower. Yes, you thought, a nice hot shower to get rid of your stress and take your mind off of Tom for a while. Turning on the shower, you start to wash away your worries and your limbs with some nice suds.

The shower is peacefully long, making you feel refreshed and practically like a brand new person. Wrapping the towel around your body, you do the same with your hair and walk out of the bathroom to your room.

The phone laying sadly on your bed rings, causing you to roll your eyes at it. Just some more useless hope, you thought. If anything it was probably just Missy wondering again if you finally had slept with Tom. You were quite sick of it frankly and didn’t need a reminder of what could have been.

Answering the phone, you snap into the receiver. “Before you say anything, the answer is no Missy.”

“Rejecting me already?” The voice you’ve been dying to hear all week fills your ears. It’s actually Tom. “Also my name appears to be Tom, remember? Or have you forgotten me already?”

“Tom..?” You gape.

He chuckles into the phone. “Yes, that would be me, and you are Y/N.”

“Tom, hi,” You whisper stupidly and you smack your forehead.

“Hi love, how’ve you been? Sorry I haven’t called you, just been quite busy with work but I managed to spare some time for you.” He asks, softly making you smile. He hadn’t forgotten me.

“I’ve been good, and yourself?”

“Well to tell you the truth.. not so well,” He sighs which makes you frown at the noise. “May I ask how come?” You question, worried now.

“It’s just that, I made a reservation for two down at this nice restaurant,” He begins as your frown starts to disappear and morph into a smile. “but I have no one to accompany to it. It would be such a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Oh, what ever will you do?” You play along, biting your lip. “Truly a shame..”

“Yeah… unless, you’d like to join me?”

“Me? Hm, I’d have to check my schedule,” you playfully ponder. “but.. it looks like I’m free after all.”

“Great!” He coughs to hide his excitement then replaces it with a cool tone. “Tonight, at 8 work?”

“Tonight?” You look at the time and widen your eyes, only one hour! You’d have to start getting ready immediately. “Is that a no?” He questions nervously but you quickly reply. “No! I mean yes-no, 8 o’clock, that works.”

“Sounds good, I’ll pick you up?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Um, that’s okay! I’ll meet you there, just text me the address?” The last thing you want is for Tom to see where you live, an old creaky shit-hole in the ruins of London.

“Alright,” he replies, puzzled but doesn’t question further which makes you mentally sigh in relief. “see you soon love.”

“See you,” you whisper and hang up.

Quickly sprinting to the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and begin your process of getting ready for your date with Tom. Since he’s taking you to a restaurant, you decide to apply a tad more makeup than usual.

Some light foundation with a bit of powder and blush to bronze up and sculpt your face. You fill through your brows lightly and apply some mascara to widen your eyes. Finishing off with a pale coral lipstick, you blot your lips.

Happy with the end product, you fix your wet, messy hair into a more appropriate look. Air-drying it, and lightly curling it to make soft waves, you lock it in with some hairspray. Taking a time-check, you realize you have 25 minutes until your date with Tom and bolt to your closet.

You instantly go to your best wear, and pick out a white, off the shoulder top with some high waisted denim jeans and brown heeled boots. Quickly slipping on the outfit, you put in your earrings and spritz some perfume on your neck. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you nod in approval and slip on your coat.

With only 15 minutes left, you head out and check your phone to see where the date will be at. It seems to be a tad far to walk to so you hail down a cab. “44th Broad Street,” you say to the driver and he nods, driving to your destination.

Arriving at the restaurant in 15 minutes time, you pay the cab driver before stepping out and walking to the front. Should you wait for him here? Or go inside? You decide to stand and wait for him instead, looking at the phone to check the time, 8:01p.m.

“Waiting for me?” A sweet voice asks you and you look up. “I didn’t keep you waiting did I?”

“No, I just got here.” You shake your head and momentarily blush at his coy smile.

He looks absolutely handsome tonight. His hair is styled back with a few curls loose that accentuates his perfect bone structure. Sporting a beige coat and a navy blue button up underneath, paired with some black slacks and his boots.

Had you come underdressed? You bite your lip and hope he doesn’t notice.

“Come,” He sticks his arm out and you gladly take it, entering the restaurant. It’s all glitz from what you can tell.

The room is decorated with beautiful paintings and expensive wood furniture, you assume. Chandeliers are hung on the ceiling with a few candles on the tables, adding a nice touch to the old-glamorous vibe the place holds.

“Reservation for Holland,” Tom says to the man in the front counter and he reviews the list before nodding and leading us to the table towards the back.

Everything is so beautiful but you notice the lack of homeliness the place has, unlike your job, making you feel a bit out of place.

“May I take your coat, Bella?” You smile and nod, letting the Italian man take your coat as he does the the same for Tom before leaving us for a moment.

“Allow me,” Tom says, pulling out a chair for you, which makes you smile. You sit and he takes a seat across from you.

“What can I start you off to drink?” The man returns.

“A bottle of your best wine,” Tom smiles at you and the waiter nods, leaving us once again.

You look around the place and notice how peaceful is it, only hearing a few people chatter amongst themselves and classical music being played in the background. You return your eyes to Tom, now surprised, to see his eyes already on you.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he compliments, his eyes bright.

Blushing, you give him a soft smile. “You look sharp yourself.” He chuckles at your compliment and you swear you could fall just at the sound.

The waiter comes back with your drinks, pouring the red wine into two glasses and placing them infront of both of you.

“So what were you planning on doing with your reservation of two, before you oh, so asked me to accompany you?” You grin deviously before taking a sip from your cup. He grins back and leans forward.

“Can you keep a secret?” He whispers and you play along, nodding and leaning forward. “Good, so can I.”

“You don’t play fair, do you Mr. Holland?” You playfully remark, leaning back into your seat and he chuckles.

“Ah, I’m just teasing you love,” the nickname swells up your heart. “I was just hoping you’d go on a date with me.”

“A date? So this is a date?” You smile, teasing now.

“Only if you’d like it to be,” he smiles back. “that is of course.” You take another sip.

“I wouldn’t mind,” You whisper and he grins.

“So, you seemed to have been rather angry on the phone at the beginning, care to explain why?” He questions and you almost gulp.

“O-Oh that, I just thought you were my friend Missy.” Keep it cool, keep it cool. “Oh you were expecting someone else? Hope I didn’t disappoint.” He smiles sympathetically.

“No! I’m glad it was actually you in the end…”

“Actually me..?” He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his wine. Shit. Why, oh why did I open my mouth? Your subconscious clicks her tongue and shakes her head at you.

“I just,” You sigh and decide to come clean. “I just didn’t think you’d call and I got fed up with hearing my phone ring so much.”

“You didn’t think I’d call? Why?” He looks surprised. What for?

You shrug. “Just thought you forgot about me I guess.”

”Oh love, quite the contrary if I’m being honest,” He chuckles.

“I would have called you earlier had it not been for my busy schedule, being out of the city and all,” He explains and you suddenly feel dumb. “I thought you deserved more than just some sleazy text and that I’d give you a proper call. I was just waiting for the right time.”

“…You were?” You’re such an idiot. He nods.

“I’m sorry if you thought of it differently, but trust me when I say that you’ve been on my mind ever since we said goodbye that night.” He smiles and reaches for your hand, holding it with his as your cheeks begin to warm up.

“It’s not your fault, I was just being dumb and overreacting,” You laugh nervously. “I tend to do that.”

“Well then, let’s not think about that anymore and enjoy ourselves tonight, hm?” He grins and you nod, looking at the menu to see what else looks good tonight, besides him.

Two hours pass and you eat the most exquisite meal of your life. Carefully roasted meat and a fresh tossed salad with a hint of citrus that made your mouth explode with flavor. But now that you were a few glasses of wine in, you were suddenly craving something else, but you didn’t know what.

“Any dessert?” The italian waiter asks, taking our plates in one hand while refilling over glasses again. Another cup? Why not!

“The usual Giovanni,” Tom grins and the man nods, leaving us.

“Did you like the food?” Tom asks you, and you nod happily.

“Everything was so delicious, thank you for bringing me here.” You smile.

He throws you a small wink. “Anything for you.”

Attempting to not seem affected by such a small thing, you pretend to sip from your wine. But you’re sure he knows better, as he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb with a cheeky grin on his face.

The waiter comes back with the dessert, quickly placing it down on the table and is gone once more. It’s a small, glass cup with a scoop of mocha gelato, topped off with a mint leaf on the side and two silver spoons beside it.

“You need to try the gelato here, it’s the best I’ve had,” Tom says brightly, taking a scoop on his spoon of his dessert and leaning it towards your mouth. You take it, carefully licking off the sweet ice cream. The taste is so, so good on your tastebuds and you close your eyes momentarily.

Opening your eyes, you take a look at Tom through your lashes and all you can see is the dark gaze he holds. Oh my, did I eat it too inappropriately? Now embarrassed, you sit up and take another sip of your wine to hide your blush.

”Good, no?” He asks huskily, eyes trained on your mouth now.

”Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You reply, your voice now dropping an octave or two.

Your stomach begins to tingle and your legs start to squirm. He leans forward and wipes the corner of your mouth, then sucks off the substance from his thumb.

“I can think of another thing that might taste better in your mouth.” He replies smoothly and his words go straight to your core. Oh my.

“Hm, like what?” You smile, batting your lashes at him.

He mimicks your smile, leaning forward and you feel his tip of his shoe run up your calve under the table. “Perhaps it’s better to demonstrate, but I can assure you that you’ll enjoy it.”

“Want to put that to the test?” You challenge flirtatiously. Your inner goddess is doing flips and applauding you for being so courageous.

“Mine or yours?” He leans closer to you and you smile coyly. “Yours.”

He bites his lip and raises his hand up in the air, signaling the waiter over. “Can we get the check please,” He asks, and the waiter nods.

When you’re alone again, he turns to you and gives the naughtiest grin, that it makes your knees practically wobble.

Oh you’re in for a treat.

-

P.3

[anniemar]

Let’s talk concealer/foundation

ITS A MAKEUP POST!

This is a long one with many pics of me with no makeup (HELLA AWKWARD) so imma put it under a jump. Here we go. 

So it’s been several weeks ago now, but I meant to do a foundation post along with a review of the Fenty Beauty foundation, which was awesome because the company (Rhianna’s company to be specific) launched with 40 different shades from the very lightest to the very darkest. I bought the foundation and honestly struggled with it, trying to make it work for my skin type. Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing shade match as I was able to take my undertone into consideration which sometimes doesn’t happen when a foundation comes in like, 8 shades, but when it comes in 40? That’s amazing. The thing is, the foundation is not for people with dry skin. If you have normal to dry skin and don’t have time to mess around I wouldn’t recommend it, considering it’s 34 bucks. If you do have time to mess around it helps to make sure your skin is moisturized with something mighty moisturizing while using a primer that is also moisturizing, none of the silicone ones. Think Too Faced Hangover or Loreal Lumi and not the Benefit Pore-fessional. Nothing mattifying because the foundation is already hella mattifying. And then applying with a damp sponge is preferable to a brush. 

All of that aside, if you have oily skin you’ll have a much better time with it. 

Anyway. Moving on. 

I got an ask a few weeks ago about concealing under the eyes and I’ve always been a visual learner so I thought I’d show along with tell, and reveal my makeup-less self. Luckily for the purpose of this post my skin is absolute shit right now, I don’t want to talk about it ... but whenever I’m eating way too much sugar I tend to break out and I’ve been obsessed with eating bags of those lifesavers wintogreen mints lately, I dunno, I can’t explain it, but I need to cut it out because holy shit my skin IS TERRIBLE. 

So first off I’m just going to talk about concealing dark circles/bags and then foundation, because you can do one without the other if you don’t want to mess with a full face of makeup. 

So here we go. Here is me! Yay! No makeup. And I always start out with a moisturizer under my eyes. The one I’ve been using lately is from The Ordinary which contains caffeine and hyaluronic acid (which is moisturizing). It’s also only 7 bucks and I love it. (imma try to make this tutorial as cost-friendly as possible). 

Also full disclosure, I haven’t altered the photos in any way. There’s no filters no Facetune, no Photoshop, no brightness/contrast adjusting, it’s all shot on my iPhone in natural sunlight from my office window. 

I’m just gonna do one eye for the concealing so you can see the difference. After moisturizing I use a color corrector, something with a peachy tone to cancel out the purple/blue tones of the darkness. THE DARKNESS. I go in with a small brush and only apply to the areas that need it, only areas with discoloration and shadow, no reason to go crazy here. Then just pat it in with either your finger or blend out with a brush or small sponge. I use the Nyx color corrector palette which comes with other tones, like a green one that is good for canceling out redness, but that’s for another post. There’s also a decent one from Wet n Wild. They’re both pretty cheap. The Nyx is my fave and is around 12 bucks. 

And you can see how already with it blended out my under-eye area is brighter. 

Next is the concealer. My fave of all time is the Tarte Shape Tape (27$), but I just got a Colourpop one that I’m currently obsessed with and it’s 6 EFFING DOLLARS. I’m loving it more than the Shape Tape right now because I’ve found that I can get away with not using powder with it. It doesn’t crease on me. But I do use powder here because why not. It just kinda softens everything. 

And I really just put on a light layer of it. For under the eyes you want a color a bit lighter than your skin tone to brighten the area, and you can use it for highlighting as well for those full-face YouTube looks. With the Colourpop one I can get away with using a little more, but with the Shape Tape it’s only a few dots because you’d be blending that shit out all day. Shape Tape is FULL EFFING COVERAGE while the Colourpop one is for every day skin that still looks like skin kinda wear. And you can see that when I’ve got it blended out, the area is brightened, the darkness concealed and so is that eye-bag line. All gone. Or mostly gone, I still want to look natural, not going for the cake-face look here. 

Then just apply a light dusting of translucent powder to avoid creasing. 

And right here you could stop if you’re only looking to conceal under the eyes. A lot of the time I stop here, and just apply eyeliner and mascara and I’m out the door. But up next we’ll do foundation. 

Products used:

So these steps are a little different. The first thing I do is moisturize, and since my skin is broken out right now, I use an oil-free moisturizer and my favorite is one from a Korean brand, Cosrx lotion with birch sap. It’s amazing. I can’t live without it. And then I use a primer, and I’ve been loving the Too Faced Primed and Peachy primer. Those two things are probably the most expensive things in this entire post that I use, but there’s definitely options at the drug store. E.L.F., Loreal, Milani, they all have great primers. 

I can’t really stress enough the importance of prepping your skin for foundation, the need is REAL. I think where a lot of people go wrong is thinking they can just apply it on clean and bare skin, as you don’t want to be putting so much shit on your face and clogging your pores and I totally get it, but you just have to use the right products for your skin type. A lot of the time makeup artists will describe it like preparing a canvas for your foundation and it’s totally true. If you’ve ever tried to paint on straight canvas, it’s terrible, you need to prep it first. There needs to be a smooth layer of gesso, or white paint, so that everything will go on top of it smoother. Moisturizer and primer will help your foundation to not settle into fine lines and accentuate pores. If used right it’ll help it look less cakey and more natural, it will sink into your skin better, become one with your skin, instead of just sitting on top of it, settling into lines and pores and making it look unnatural. Primer will also help it to last longer. 

But even if you don’t use primer, at least use a moisturizer. Your skin will look more hydrated and radiant. 

If you have oily skin, use an oil-free moisturizer. Sometimes with my dry skin I’ll use oils on my face, it sounds weird at first, but it’s amazing. And there’s generally two kinds of primers, there’s the silicone-based ones that mattify and blur pores and then there’s ones that are “dewey” or moisturizing. Sometimes they’ll be light-reflecting ones with hints of shimmer to them, making your foundation more glowy. It’s all about what works best with your skin or what look you’re trying to create. The Too Faced one I’ve been using is kind of in the middle. It’s mattyfing but also feels cool and hydrating. It’s just really nice. It’s also 32 bucks so it better feel pretty damn nice, but for me it’s worth it. It just makes your skin look nice and smooth and radiant and healthy, sometimes I’ll just use it on its own and forget foundation altogether. 

I’ve also taken to using the Hard Candy Coconut Water stick primer (you can find it at Walmart) under my eyes because it’s nice and cooling and smoothes everything out. It’s pretty much a dupe for the Milk Makeup Cooling Water that’s like, 25 bucks and it’s amazing. But that’s entirely optional, I just love the stuff. 

ANYWAY. Moving on. 

As with above, I start with the color correcting with the peachy tone. THEN I put on foundation, with concealer on top of the foundation, just for the added brightness, so the foundation doesn’t blend it away. 

I like to use my Real Techniques foundation brush, it’s my favorite way to apply foundation, but I’ve been known to use a Beauty Blender-type sponge as well. Beauty Blenders are amazing and are also 20 bucks, but Real Techniques makes one that’s just as good for much cheaper. I like brushes just because I’m used to them, but sponges are great for people who have a heavy hand with foundation because it’ll take away the excess, soak it up. They really create a nice smooth finish. Brushes are my preference but you have to really buff the foundation into your skin, make the foundation become one with your skin. You can always build coverage. I always apply a light layer and then add where i need more, usually on my cheeks where i have redness, acne scars, and recently, actual acne. For it to be natural, only apply where you need it. If you’re having pictures taken at a wedding or something, that’s when you want the FULL full coverage, but for every day life, you only need a nice light-to-medium buffed-in layer, with more only where you need it. 

After that, set with a light layer of translucent powder, my current favorite is the Milani Prep Set Glo because I’m already using a mattyfying primer and foundation, so the powder has a little glow to it. Again, if you have oily skin, you should use a mattifying powder as well. I’m just trying to prevent my dryer skin from being dry as a desert. The powder sets everything in place and just kinda smoothes everything making it seamless. If you want the Cadillac of translucent powders that would be the Laura Mercier and it’s 40 bucks, and it’s heaven, but that’s like, for when you’ve got this makeup thing DOWN and you’re really into it and your birthday rolls around ;-) 

Careful. Makeup addiction is a very real REAL THING. 

And so that is the base. My skin tone is evened out, the hyper pigmentation is corrected and everything is just smoother. Now I have to add color back into my face, some healthy radiance into my complexion. That’s where blush/bronzer/highlighter come in. And that’s for another post ;-) 

So what foundation did I end up using? It’s the Maybelline Fit Me Matte + Poreless. And it’s the foundation that I wanted the Fenty Beauty foundation to be and it’s ONLY LIKE 8 BUCKS. As opposed to the 30-some of the Fenty. 

The thing is, you can really tell how a foundation works for you by how it acts around your nose. If you can’t get it to work in that area, if it accentuates your pores or won’t stick properly, that foundation is not for you. The Fenty foundation is terrible around my nose, it sticks to dry patches in very unattractive ways and just looks BAD. But the Maybelline foundation is for people with normal to dry skin who also want a mattyfying and bluring foundation (and I’m sure it would work for oily skin as well). It’s perfection. I FUCKING LOVE THIS FOUNDATION. There’s not as many shades as the Fenty but it’s still pretty damn good for a drugstore brand. I highly HIGHLY recommend this foundation. It’s wonderful. 

So here’s the final product with bronzer, blush, highlight, shadow and the works. 

Bronzer is tried and true Physicians Formula coconut bronzer that’s heaven. Blush is one of the Tarte amazonian clay ones, brows are Anastasia brow whiz and the eyeshadow is from the Colourpop You Had Me At Hello palette, it’s only 18 bucks, and I used one of the shadows as a highlight. It’s a beautiful palette, pigmented shadows, I highly recommend. 

Ooo, and the lip gloss is the Fenty Gloss Bomb and it’s amazing. I’m not usually a lip gloss girl but I love this stuff. It lasts. And is just a universally flattering shade of beautifulness. 

So yeah. I hope this is helpful for some of you, I’ve gotten quite a few questions about foundation and concealer over the months and this is just a very basic beginners guide, so I hope it makes sense. If y’all like it I can definitely expand and do other posts like this. 

Imma tag @fasole-dulce on this because her question def inspired this post and I want you to see it, I’m not sure how this new Tumblr algorithm works these days ;-)

[bigyack-com]

Valentine’s Day 2020: 10 beauty trends for this season of love - fashion and trends

It is that time of the year again. Love is in the air and regardless of your plans; the most interesting thing to do on Valentine’s Day is to glam up your attires. If you are looking for makeup inspiration to kick the night off with a bottle of bubbly and your significant other, we have some trending looks to play around this V-Day:Neutral NudesWhether you are heading out on an intimate dinner date or planning to paint the town red, neutral hues always look on point. A super easy and understated look for the night, subtle nude is one of the biggest trends making a comeback from the 90s and looks flattering on anyone.To get this look, prep your face with a good hydrating primer, and use a foundation in the right shade and conceal. Once the base is done, bake the makeup with a pinch of setting powder. Highlight and contour those cheekbones to shine through the night. Add a little bit of dull gold eye shadow and a dab of nude lip tint; and you are all set for the night. Smoke ShowDramatic with a pinch of extra, smoke show is a gorgeous look for a wild night out. A well-done smokey eye never goes out of style. Keep your ensemble and hair simple to match the bold black hues of the eye shadow. Prep your face with a hydrating face cream and under-eye serum. Since the eyes are in focus, make sure you conceal fine under-eye lines and start with a generous serving of kohl on the upper eyelid. A graphic smokey eye is achieved through blending and blending it well. Swipe on light brown eye shadow on the upper crevice of the eye and finish it off with a dab of glitter. For a smouldering effect, use a long-lasting matt lipstick in shades of deep red, burgundy or nude. Radiant PinksTo achieve that inner radiant beauty use hues of pink. Bright, flirty and full of sugary fun, pair a sparkly light pink eye shadow with a vibrant pink lip colour. Highlight your cheekbones in a C to complement your shimmering eyes. This self-proclaimed Barbie-pink look is sure to be a showstopper for the night. While it is a look that primarily utilises one colour, remember that you can always use different shades of pink in this style.Berry BlushA classic red and pink makeup is always a safe bet because it works really well. However, for an offbeat mix of colours, use unconventional shades such as purple. While bold purple and burgundy lips may not be everyone’s cup of tea, it sure is a striking colour theme. For this look, use a mix of soft pink and purple eye shadow to highlight the lids. Use mascara to define those luscious lashes and ditch the kohl. A nude palette for the cheeks with a creamy purple lip tint will add just the right amount of sass to your Valentine’s Day look. Peachy PunchA soft, mellow take on the monochrome peach is perfect for days even after Valentine’s. Use the same eye shadow, lipstick and blush for an even undertone of peach. Soft eyes with a tint of peach over both lids and under the eyes add a subtle tone of old-world glam. An ideal look for magical candlelight dinners, rosy cheeks and soft blush lips will give you a magical glow all through your romantic evening! Brazen BoldFor a head-turning bold look, don’t shy on going all out with your makeup. The combination of a dramatic winged cat eye and bold dark red lips is just drop-dead gorgeous. Keep your face clean and blush minimal. Highlight your cheekbones and nose for a stunning V-cut. Use a creamy red lipstick that will stay with you as you pout through the night. With a look so bold, keep your hair combed back slick and jewellery minimal. Modern MetallicWho doesn’t enjoy a bit of glamour on V-Day? But instead of going the extra mile with all things glittery, stick to a modern romantic, metallic look. A soft pink palate for the cheeks will pop under the highlighted cheekbones. Use the same shimmer near your tear ducts to make them pop. A soft pink and brown metallic eye palate will accentuate well against a deep black liner on the upper eyelids. Use a glossy pink lip-gloss to finish off your modern Valentine’s Day look. A Royal TouchValentine’s Day is the perfect excuse to bring the big guns out and play with glitz all the way. A contemporary approach to a traditional smokey eye, this look involves mixing colours like blue and purple. Vibrant blue eyes blended with a tint of violet will create a striking look. Use a generous layer of kohl to highlight the eyes and mascara to add definition to the lashes. Make sure you keep the rest of your makeup minimal to really highlight this look. Keep the lips shiny with a nude lip-gloss or go for a subtle pink. Sunset EyesThis look is all about the eyes. Dust on some white eye shadow to prep your lids as you begin. Swipe a shimmer of white glitter around the tear ducts and slowly blend hues of pink and orange throughout the lids. Add drama to your lashes by curling them out and keep your makeup minimal. Finish off the look with soft pink lips for the night.Inner GothIf you love all things dark, go with dark makeup this Valentine’s Day. One of the trickiest of the lot, dark makeup can often go horribly wrong if overdone. Focus on your eyes and lips with deep earthy tones to bring out the nocturnal look. You can achieve this look by using lipsticks in dark shades such as navy or black. However, make sure that you don’t overdo your makeup. All you need to complete this look is kohl-rimmed eyes!(This story has been published from a wire agency feed without modifications to the text. Only the headline has been changed.)Follow more stories on Facebook and Twitter Read the full article

[dazombi3fari3]

Welcome to 2020 dolls!!! I hope you are having a great day today. I slept in today because I wasn’t feeling the best. I’m feeling a bit better but still have low spoons today.

I chose to use the same eyeshadow palette I used yesterday as well as the same foundation. So let’s get started…..

BASE: I primed my face using Dr. Brandt Pores No More Pore Refiner Primer ($45 at Ulta). I color corrected using Tarte CC Undereye Corrector ($25 at Ulta) in the color Light-Medium. I concealed using BH Studio Pro Total Coverage Concealer ($6 on their website) in the color #111. I chose to use my Makeup Forever Ultra HD Invisible Cover Foundation ($43 on their website and at Sephora) in the color Y235. I set my undereyes with the Charlotte Tilbury Airbrush Flawless Finish Skin Perfecting Micro-Powder ($45 on the Beautylish website) in the color 2 Medium and then set the rest of my face using Laura Mercier Loose Setting Powder ($39 at Ulta and Sephora) in the color Translucent. I warmed up my face and nose with BH Cosmetics Brilliance Bronzer ($10 on their website) in the color Bronze Babe.

EYES: I primed my eyes using MAC Paint Pot ($22 at Ulta and MAC) in Soft Ochre . I set the prime with my Chrlotte Tilbury Airbrush Flawless Finish Skin Perfecting Micro-Powder ($45 on the Beautylish website) in the color 2 Medium. I used the ELF The New Classics Eyeshadow Palette ($14 on their website) and started with Uptown (a light camel tan matte) as my 1st transition shade.  I then used Charmer (a grey toned dusty mauve matte) as my 2nd transition shade. I used Earth (a deep grey toned brown matte) to deepen the crease and for the outer v. On my mobile lids I used a slight bit of Earth on the outer 1/3 and then Gilded (a peridot green shimmer) on the first 2/3. I used Opulent (an olive green with gold shift shimmer) on the middle 1/3 to blend Earth and Gilded together. On the bottom lash line I used Darling (an orange toned tan matte) and then deepened the lash line with Earth. I lined the waterlines with BH Cosmetics Power Pencil ($8 on their website) in Beige. I did my brows with Benefit Precisely My Brow Pencil ($24 on their website) and Gimme Brow ($24 on their website) in the color 4.5 and then cut the brow line with BH Studio Pro Brow Highlighter ($5 on their website) on the matte side. I set my brow bone with Liberatus (a cream white matte) from the Kat Von D Shade and Light Eye Contour Palette ($48 at Sephora). For mascara I stuck with the Benefit Roller Lash ($25 on their website) in the color Black.

CHEEKS and LIPS: For blush today I chose NARS blush ($30 at Ulta and Sephora) in Dolce Vita (a pink coral satin). I highlighted the tops of my cheek bones, nose, between my brows and Cupid’s Bow with MAC Mineralize SkinFinish ($36 at Ulta and MAC) in the color Soft & Gentle (a peachy champagne). On my lips today I have Charlotte Tilbury Lip Cheat ($22 on the Beautylish website) in the color Pillow Talk (a pink nude) and filled my lips in with Jouer High Pigment Lip Gloss ($17 on their website) in the color Sloane (a mid-toned coral cream).

Final Thoughts….

Dr. Brandt Pores No More Pore Refiner Primer: B                                                                          You get 1 fluid ounce of product in the full sized. It’s billed as a pore filling primer. I have only used this primer a handful of times but it doesn’t fill in pores at all. It’s a velvet feeling primer that smooths the skin…. it just doesn’t fill in the pores what so ever. My foundation lasts pretty well with this primer so I will continue to use it, however I hate the smell and it doesn’t help the pores so I will not be repurchasing this primer.

BH Studio Pro Total Coverage Concealer: A-                                                                             This concealer comes in 21 shades. You get .35 fluid ounces of product. I like this concealer a lot but I need a shade lighter for under my eyes it’s the perfect skin color I just prefer a lighter shade for under my eyes. It doesn’t crease or look cakey and it doesn’t accentuate my dry areas.

BH Cosmetics Brilliance Bronzer: B+                                                                                           You get .35 ounces of product. I like this bronzer, it’s a satin finished bronzer. It is a tad too orange based so you do have to go in with a light hand so as to not end up looking like an Umpa Lumpa . This bronzer buffs in so well. It’s never patchy or chalky. I definitely will repurchase this bronzer once I hit pan.

NARS Blush: A-                                                                                                                             Comes in 35 shades and you get .16 ounces of product. I love the blush I have, I own 2 Orgasm and Dolce Vita. They buff into the cheeks perfectly and without getting patchy. A little goes a long way so I wont need to repurchase for a long time, however I am thinking of picking up a few more shades.

MAC Mineralize SkinFinish: A                                                                                                           It comes in 5 shades, I own 2. You get .35 ounces of product. This highlighter is so powerful that you only need the slightest tap of product. I give it an A only because it does have glitter in it… once you use a finishing spray the glitter melts in but I have several highlighters without glitter in them so I rate the ones with glitter lower on the scale.

Jouer High Pigment Lip Gloss: A-                                                                                                      It comes in 14 shades. You get .21 fluid ounces of product. This is a great gloss. It doesn’t get sticky. It doesn’t feather or transfer off the lip…. it doesn’t dry down, it remains wet. It’s not the longest lasting gloss but it does wear down nicely. I own 3 shades… I don’t know if I will repurchase the colors I have once I’ve used them up, but I am looking forward to purchasing other colors.

Well that’s all for now dolls. Hope your day is a good one and as always remember to save a spoon for a bit of lipstick.

XOXO

  Face of the Day Green Smokey Welcome to 2020 dolls!!! I hope you are having a great day today. I slept in today because I wasn't feeling the best.

[honestsycrets]

Irreplaceable III: An Equal Partnership

See my masterlist for the rest of the series.

A/N: Gif belongs to the proper owner. <3 Irreplaceable IX will drop later tonight. Um, I’m not sure what happened here. I thought she would be shy. NSFW at the bottom!

No backing out of this. With the handsal made, you were getting married. Kitta kept an iron fist over the arrangements and now she was tightening the binds of your dress as you stand perfumed in rich spices in front of her. Your hands come  to her hands as she pulls the thin strings tight, squeaking out a protest.

“It’s tight.” You whine. Kitta slides around in front of you, looking over the golden embroidery in triangles and swirls traveling vertically down your waist. She hushes you to the sound of the roaring cry of Faksi and Ivar sacrificing a goat, sow and horse to Thor, Freyja and Freyr respectively.

“Today, more than any, they’re going to be judging you. Everything must be perfect.” Kitta hisses, her face framed by bobbing blonde hair.

“I don’t know about this.” You shake your hands out near your face. Kitta arranges a crown of sunshine bright flowers that had slender petals on your head. Against the yellow, buds of white are woven into your hair as a contrast along wispy strands. You peep outside of the tent of blanched fabric. Ivar gathers rich furs in one hand, dipping them into large wooden bowl of thick, red blood. As the colours of white dyed to red, you know time was ticking down. Your stomach curdles like storming clouds despite the clear skies and fat, fluffy clouds.

“It is the nerves. You’re faring better than I did. I threw up on my wedding day.” Kitta reminisces.

“You did?” You ask.

She nods. “During the sex talk, anyway. Mother had to redress me then after the ceremony, Ivar’s sword was stuck in the beams in the Great Hall and then I spilled his mead.” Kitta remarks, looking both a bit amused and perturbed all in one. That occurrence was a bad, bad omen. Even so, you suppose that the gods have smiled upon Kitta as they were still married.

“Your wedding day was eventful.” You put it lightly. “Mine will be awkward.”

Less because of Ivar, more because of you. You fiddle with your painted nails against the hem of the curtains as Kitta fixed gold earrings and a jeweled necklace Faksi supplied. These were your mothers! Faksi had said, to remember the woman you never knew.

Suddenly, you let out a sharp squeal, darting away from the curtains and back towards the middle of the room despite Kitta fastening a sheer, thin wrap to accentuate your thick hips. She is forced to follow after you.

“He’s coming!” You squeak with hands at the sides of your face. Kitta smacks your hands, warning you not to ruin the kohl on the top of your eyes or rouge powdering your cheeks. But you couldn’t help it! Your nerves are strung so tight you thought you might choke on puffs of air that you are forcing out of your body.

“(Y/N), look at me. He’ll take care of you if you let him. Breathe, princess.” Kitta says grasping your hands on the sides of your face.

“Breathe?” You hiccup. Breathe, she said. She holds you in place taking a breath in and out, in and out. At long last, you release a breath and nod to her just as the flaps of the tent wisp with the outside wind.

“Take your wedding woes away, Kitta. You’re scaring her.” Ivar teases as he approached Kitta. She snuffs his words with a pouty display of her slender lips, accentuating her aquiline nose.

“Why would you say that?” Kitta huffs.

“Because I can hear you prattling on about old stories from outside.” He mutters, peeling away Kitta’s shoulder to move her aside. She gives you one last glance: longing, jealous and unabashed as she steps out of the tent. Ivar hums, giving you his hand to turn you around in a flurry of your skirts. You spin back to face him just as he curls you into his arms. His breath tickles the side of your face.

“Mmm.” He says. “If you aren’t the perfect bride.”

And that was when you were supposed to say something back-- like how his overtunic was tailored perfectly to his tanned chest or how the charm of Mjolnir fit him just so. You could have even remarked on how his hair curled around to frame his face... but no. You just gawk at him, bowing your head and a crown of flowers shyly tilting with.

“Ah… I…” You stutter.

“Are you ready?” He interrupts, a hand around your back now. He lead you out of the tent-- and if you weren’t ready, you had better be now. The crowds that gather about the scene aren’t just the Kings you knew or your father and husband to be. You recognize other kings and jarls that cluster about, all eager to watch the sprinkling of blood and trade of rings atop of two glistening swords.

“Ivar, do you swear onto the gods, that you want to marry this woman?” The volva says, hands on either sides of his face. You hold your hands tightly against the grip of your father’s blade as Ivar stares blankly at her. Then he begets a nod. “I swear by the gods.”

Then she comes to you, sliding her hands against your cheeks. “(Y/N), do you swear by the gods, that you want to marry this man?” She asks. Your eyes stare into her bright eyes, debating a yes or a no, when you nod.

“By all the gods, especially Freyja, I want to marry Ivar.” You say, looking into Ivar’s eyes. They seem to leap in excitement by the undeniable smile that pulls his cheeks in a rare smile. The volva screeches that you are married-- and you glance up to the heavens before sliding the point of your sword down to take the ring.

“Let me do it.” Ivar interrupts you.

“I’ve entrusted her to you King Ivar! You had better spoil her!” Faksi warns. Ivar gives a slight smirk, easing the ring along the third finger of your left hand. He threads a necklace with his own ring around his neck.

Then before you can honestly get an edge in otherwise, Ivar yanks you forward. Your hands clumsily set on his chest, lips enveloped by Ivar’s eager ones. He takes the shocked breath from your lips, sliding his lips against your pillowy ones. You tentatively kiss him back, the irony scent of blood on your faces a healthy distraction. Then as you pull away, Ivar holds you around your waist for a few sweet moments longer.

“I’ll do more than that Faksi.” Ivar thows back over his shoulder. “Look at my wife!” He gleams with pride. But from the very depths of the crowd you saw Kitta’s forced and hard smile, attempting to let go of what was her only husband. She had to share. You were a married to a Ragnarsson now: just as she was.

The rest of the night proceeded smoothly. You didn’t stumble when breaching the Great Hall’s doors after the bridal race and Ivar certainly didn’t get his sword stuck in the supporting beams. But, after a while, your drunken fingers did spill a little bit of mead down his hand.

“Oops.” You giggle, taking up Ivar’s sticky fingers for a suckle and a giggle. His thick fingers slip from your lips with a wet pop and Ivar would drift his thumb back to your lower lip to caress your lip.

“You’re going to be trouble, I can tell.” Ivar leans in, his nose tipping up the tassels of your earrings. He quickly slides you out from your chair into his. The kisses became easier with every drink, and by now, your lips eagerly caress his.

“How could you tell that?” You mumble, hands drifting lower and lower until they hit the waist of his trousers. He glances around; Faksi is prattling along with some foreign kings. Much of the wedding goers are drinking or dead drunk. It… wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. If he didn’t know Kitta’s eyes were watching him-- and that he’d get in so much trouble for slathering the Great Hall in his spunk. Somehow, he doesn’t care.

Your swift fingers slide his cock into the cool air between your stomachs, fisting him easily into hardness. He sputters with his drink, sliding his hands underneath your dress to hike it back up over your knees while you slicken Ivar’s cock with saliva that was once on your palm and lean up, your hips hovering above him for only seconds before he feels himself being swallowed by your tight walls.

“Fuucck…. You’re so impatient.” Ivar’s fingers tighten along his horn harshly as you rock him inside, pushing him deeply in until you hilt.

“I haven’t had sex in years.” You mutter against his ear.

“I can feel that.” Ivar brings the horn to your lips, spilling the mead as you squeeze his dick inside. Your hips begin to shift, sliding him out as inconspicuously as possible before sliding back down. Ivar’s hips shift up as you slide down, taking up your lips in another kiss. Ivar sets down the horn and his hands drop to your ass, keeping you in place on his dick while you rock your hips.

“They’re going to see you.” Ivar chides against his lips. “Something tells me you like that.”

Maybe you did-- you didn’t like to be a little secret. Here and now, you could take Ivar for all his cock was worth. Ivar carefully lifts you on his dick, grunting as he moved inside of you. The sound of drums thumping and men talking came closer and closer-- Faksi speaking with Kitta.

“He really likes her.” Kitta says, glancing back to find Ivar’s hands forcing you up his cock before right back down. At the least, the thralls knew what was happening. She knew too. As soon they shifted for some covering. Your pleasant kisses became mean, bruise inducing bites down his neck. Ivar hisses in response, knowing that it was an attempt to claim him. Claim him knowing that he had Kitta right there watching your body trying to milk the seed right out of him. He wasn’t one to fight your electric body, rolling your hips as you hilt over and over again.

“I’d say!” Faksi threw out a laugh. “It seems I won’t have to show them to her room! I am going to bed. Before I see something I regret.” He gave her an encouraging to pat on her shoulder, strolling off in another direction whistling with his horn of mead. Ivar’s hands clench tightly, willing his orgasm off as you take him deep. Thrust after thrust, your body seems to try to devour him, rolling your hips onto his.

“Let it happen.” You came back to his lips, devouring him in a hungry kiss. For only seconds you pull away, hot breath tickling his when he lets go. He shoves your hips down every inch of his cock, arching his hips into yours to cum. His seed paints your pussy, his thick spunk coating your walls. With a few forced breaths, he comes down from his orgasm with a shaking groan.

“Get up. We’re going back to your room.” Ivar commands, pulling your skirts down as you slide off of him. “I was pathetic. Let me fuck you properly.”

And so, Kitta watched her husband leave to breed his new wife.

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @ateliefloresdaprimavera, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @ilovemyangelforever, @directionlessbuthappy, @hizz-hizz-mothertruckerz, @some-blondes-unicorn,, @l-e-a-t-h-e-r–n–l-a-c-e, @atequila, @bcat1291, @rekdreams247, @ivarswonderlust, @writingeverynowand-then, @hp-hogwartsexpress, @minarawr, @haliannej, @strangunddurm, @cbouvier23, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @Equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @the-geeky-engineer, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @mitchiri-nek0, @dakotacheyenneee-blog, @seize-the-droid, @Certifiedpoison, @hotshotstar, @a-writers-dreams, @quaint-and-curious-being, @ivarthotbrok,  @mitchiri-nek0, @dakotacheyenneee-blog, @salimahbicharara-comun, @ilovemyangelforever, @capstefanbrandt, @kickbacksnextdoor, @alicedopey, @imagine-this-motherfucker, @zoetrope1997, @kingniazx, @lost-and-wandering-alone, @amandaseibaek, @queenmissfit  , @calaena-banrion, @memememememe1-blog, @lost-and-wandering-alone, @rubyquartzshades , @naaladareia,

[ladyshivs]

Types of kisses number 4 for mikylux? Pretty please?

4. In The Moment Kiss - Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop.

SO I did my own spin on this, so it’s not quite exactly a fill of this prompt, but this went somewhere and I went with it. 

They’d been spying on him.

They shouldn’t have been, they knew, but it was bit too tempting.

Hux was being prepared by an army of artists for his crowning as Emperor and both Kylo and Mitaka were quietly making excuses that required them to pop in and out of his chambers in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the red head. Kylo had caught the most recent look and relayed that the outfit was white and black with red and gold accents. His tone overwhelmingly communicated how tacky he thought the whole ensemble was. His face said something entirely different. Something in Mitaka’s chest jumped excitedly. 

Mitaka squared his own shoulders and nodded solemnly at the other man. Kylo returned the firm nod and Mitaka primly slipped into the Emperor’s chambers, the name of a nearby guard already on his lips. 

“Vardis? Kylo Ren requires your immediate presence in the blue courtyard,” the knowledge that Kylo Ren had just been in the room himself seemed to flit across the guard’s face before catching sight of Mitaka’s distracted expression and quickly retreating.

“Yes sir,” and like that he was gone from Mitaka’s consciousness. He’d never even existed, because.

Hux looked like something pulled from Mitaka’s daydreams. Where he was built up and placed on a pedestal and remained behind carefully polished plate glass. He gleamed. Which, quite frankly, shouldn’t have been possible for a human being, but he was doing it anyway. 

“Your mouth is open, Mister Dopheld,” a rush of adrenaline flooded Mitaka’s stomach. He didn’t know when Hux had taken to calling him that, but goodness he hoped it wouldn’t stop. 

Two twileks were busying themselves dusting his cheekbones with some sort of powder and simultaneously dusting the excess of off his shoulders. His hair had already been slicked into a perfect coif. They’d done something around his eyes and now they were bright and distressingly blue and. 

“Yessir, my apologies, sir,” Mitaka’s voice was thin and soft. 

“Are we finished?” Hux asked the primping servants. They muttered that they were and began packing up their supplies. As they did so Hux rose from his chair and Mitaka was treated to how well the outfit accentuated his lines. Slender but fit, tall and well proportioned and. “Was there something you needed, Mister Dopheld?” Hux’s voice was gentle and calm. As if he were getting ready for nothing more important than an evening stroll. For all intents and purposes, Hux had already been Emperor for the past two weeks, but tonight was the formal coronation. The official announcement. The day. 

Mitaka was quick enough to catch the tiny half crescents that Armitage was digging into his own palms. 

“No sir, nothing important sir,” 

Behind them Mitaka was distantly aware of the door opening and closing. Hux glanced over his shoulder and it was like watching an iceberg calf. His shoulders visibly fell from his ears, the tension in his lower back leaving, fists uncurling and relaxing. Apparently the artists had gone and Kylo had snuck back in. Kylo began striding forward towards his two lovers. 

“I’ve seen more subtle Star Destroyers; you could have just tried to make an excuse to stay in the room instead of--,” and then Kylo’s mouth was on Hux’s. It was quick and impulsive and the instant Kylo pulled back Hux’s mouth turned down into a frown. Mitaka shot forward and pressed a second kiss to the corner of his mouth before Hux could react. He surprised Mitaka in turn by angling slightly to better press into the contact before pulling away. “I just spent the past four hours being poked and painted--I won’t have the two of you messing it up because you can’t control yourselves,”