#Choosing the Right Hair Oil

[matural2021]

Exploring the World of Men's Hair Oil: Tips, Tricks, and Recommendations

Introduction to Men’s Hair Oil When it comes to personal grooming and self-care, men often don’t receive the attention they deserve. But here’s a secret: men’s hair deserves just as much care and attention as women’s. One of the most effective tools in the arsenal of men’s hair care is hair oil. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the world of men’s hair oil, exploring its benefits,…

[teapartyprincess4two]

Messy- J. Webber

pairing: Waitress!reader x Mechanic!Jake

classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, messy sex, public sex, facial, cream pie, cursing

inspiration: request

summary: Jake is a regular customer at the diner you work at, eating the same meal everyday before returning back to work. One day, when you’re taking his order, you can tell he has much more sinful intentions than a quick meal.

—

The diner is slow today, it always is on Sundays. You’ve had a total of 5 customers and it’s already past noon, making the day feel endless. You’re currently messing with the fryer in the kitchen. It turned off suddenly and now it won’t turn back on. “Stupid fucking fryer,” you grumble, clicking random buttons until it finally starts heating.

Suddenly the front doorbell rings, indicating a customer has entered the lobby. “Hello! I’ll be right with you!” you call out from the kitchen, peering your head over the order window to catch a glimpse of the customers. You instantly recognize that it’s Jake, he’s a regular customer and arrives everyday at exactly 12:30pm without fail.

Jake saunters in, dirty and sweaty from a hard days work. He works at an automotive repair shop that sits right on the corner of the street, choosing your diner everyday as his preferred dining spot. The walk from his car shop isn’t long, but he always leaves early so he misses the lunch rush.

Because he’s such a frequent customer, Jake knows the diner well, so he situates himself in the booth that gives him the best view of the kitchen. When he first started eating here, he realized that this booth provided him with a cinema worthy experience because he could watch you work as he enjoyed his meal.

You emerge from the kitchen with a big smile on your face, walking around the front counter and over to Jake’s table. “Can’t get enough of this place, huh?” you joke, retrieving a small notebook and ball point pen from the depths of your apron.

“Guess so,” Jake replies with a chuckle, folding his dirty hands over the table. They’re permanently stained with car oil, calloused by countless hours of manual labor. Your eyes travel from his broad, tattooed shoulders down to his folded arms, relishing in the way his sweat glistens in the sun that trickles in through the window. His white tank top is adorned with black smudges and stains, ripped and frayed along the edges. There’s dirt under his fingernails, a detail that you’d usually find disturbing, but it adds even more grit to Jake. You love the idea of being fucked by a hard working man who isn’t afraid to get dirty.

Jake’s messy look completely juxtaposes yours. You’re wearing your diner uniform, clad in a pastel pink dress and an apron so white it reflected the sun. Your hair is curled and pinned back, a matching pink bow dangling in between your bouncy strands. Stark white sneakers sway back and forth, as you wait patiently for Jake to order. You looked so clean, too clean, and Jake wanted to roam his hands all over you and watch how messy you could really get.

“So, your usual?” you ask, knowing Jake’s order by heart. Over the course of his visits, you’ve learned that Jake is a simple man. He orders the same thing everyday and although the food was slightly above average, he claimed it was his favorite as an excuse to watch you work.

Jake loved watching as you diligently wiped down tables, your hips rocking back and forth as you worked the rag into tough, grimy spots. When you were mopping, he’d scoot closer to the edge of his seat and watch you bend over as you rung out the mop. He especially loves watching as you walked over to his booth with his meal in hand, because once you arrive to the table you bend over just enough to expose the top of your breasts.

“You know how I like it, baby,” the nickname slips out naturally, the flirtatious undertones evident in Jake’s voice. At first you would become flustered with his incessant flirting, but now that you’re used to it, you get turned on. You feel like a car engine, revved up and ready to fuck some miles into him.

“Alright, it’ll be right out,” you reply with a playful smile, shoving the notepad and pen back into your apron before making your way back to the kitchen. Your hips sway as you walk away, the string of your apron slapping against your ass with each step.

Jake’s eyes are glued to you, mentally undressing you from across the room. He’s really hungry now, but not for the food.

—

20 minutes have passed and you’re still not back with his food. Jake isn’t the type to complain, but he knows it never takes you this long. Loud beeping rings throughout the diner, followed by a loud yell from the kitchen, “Ow! Fuck!” Metal clangs on the floor shortly after, a string of cuss words coming from you.

Jake’s natural instinct is to get up and check on you, but you come out from the kitchen before he can act on it. You’re pressing a cold, wet towel on your hand, “Sorry, it’s gonna be a while. The fryer’s been acting up all day and it just turned off. I burnt myself trying to fix it, but I popped your fries in the oven instead, okay?”

Jake sees the opportunity and takes it, “No problem. I can take a look at it if you want?” He’s an extremely handy man, and he’s hoping to get handsy with you if he plays his cards right.

“At what?” you ask confused, applying pressure to your hand.

��The fryer. I can try to fix it. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he replies, using his hands to push himself out of the booth. Before you can protest, Jake begins walking to the kitchen. His dirty work boots leave a trail of footprints on the floor as you follow closely behind, trying to keep up with his long strides. He quickly finds the fryer, following the smell of gas until he locates the source.

“No, it’s okay! I’ll just put in a work order,” you reason, watching as he kneels in front of the machine. You were beginning to panic, no one other than employees were allowed in the kitchen. What if your boss suddenly showed up and found him back here? Not to mention how unsanitary it was for him to be touching everything with his soiled hands.

“Yeah? And when will they finally come fix it?”

The question has you stumped, causing you to think for a while. The maintenance men usually didn’t come until weeks after the initial work order was put in, and working without a fryer for that long sounded like actual hell. That didn’t mean you wanted a customer working while on their lunch break, “Probably a couple of weeks, but it’s okay. It’s not a big deal, really!”

Your words fall on deaf ears though because Jake is opening the fryer hatch, a whiff of cooking oil and gas hitting him straight in the face. From that smell alone he immediately knew the problem, “Yeah, see, the gas line isn’t connected. One stray spark and this whole place is blowing up.”

Jake’s used to working in much hotter temperatures, surrounded daily by the summer weather and even hotter car engines. So, although the fryer is emitting a lot of heat, it’s nothing compared to what he deals with daily. He manages to find the main gas line, turning the nob off to ensure there isn’t any other leaks. After that, he swiftly turns the machine off before unscrewing a hot, black tube. He pulls the black tube off with a grunt, causing a loud hissing noise as the last bits of gas spill out.

“How do you know it’s the gas line?” you ask curiously, blissfully unaware and nose blind to the smell. “The smell,” he replies blatantly, strong hands removing random pieces from the machine. Well they were random to you, but Jake seemed to know the purpose of each piece.

The oven dings faintly in the background, indicating that the fries are finally done baking. You would love to stay and watch his arms flex as he worked, but you didn’t want to cause another hazard, “I’ll be back, those are the fries. I don’t want them to burn.”

He hums in response, the sound being followed by another animalistic grunt. You feel your core clench at the sound, there was something about him that made you want to push him to the ground and get messy.

You force yourself to look away, finally walking over to the oven to retrieve the fries before they burn.

—

The fryer was worse than either of you anticipated, causing Jake to spend more than a ‘few minutes’ working on it. He’s lying face up on the floor to get a better view, a broken down cardboard box is sprawled out under him to serve as a cushion and as a barrier from the cold floor.

Luckily you’ve only had one other customer since then and all they ordered was a drink, so you’ve been able to watch Jake work this entire time. Your pussy is throbbing at the possibilities, your mind delving into uncharted territory as you imagine what he’d look like under you.

Jake’s hips buck upward as he adjust himself, pushing himself further into the machine each time. Your eyes fall onto his crotch every time, you can’t help but stare and salivate at the growing bulge. He knows you’re watching and it’s turning him on.

“Here, hold this piece right… there,” he instructs, voice trailing off as his fingers pinch a wire in place. You comply, scooting closer so you can properly hold the wire in place. The position is uncomfortable though, your legs struggling to remain in place as you try not to fall on Jake.

After a while your legs start to hurt, trembling from the constant strain. “I can’t reach,” you explain, attempting to shift your weight so you’re comfortable.

Jake lifts his head up, careful not to hit it against the metal above him, as he peers at you. You were awkwardly reaching over him, one hand gripping onto the edge of the fryer as the other stretched to properly hold the wire in place. He looks down at your legs, watching as they shake before he accidentally catches a glimpse of your underwear.

“Here, just…” he begins to say, forgetting his sentence as his mind fills with sinful thoughts of you. He places his tools on the ground before taking a hold of your waist, dirty fingerprints immediately soaking into the fabric of your dress. He uses his hands to carefully guide you over him, stopping once you’re situated directly above his crotch.

“Try again,” he instructs, forcing himself to think about anything other than the newfound pressure you’re applying to him. You reposition the wire with your right hand, your left hand resting on Jake’s chest for support. Once the wire is in place, he scoots forward, his hips bucking up again as he does it. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your clothed pussy, causing you to squirm from above him. You’re forced to bite back a whine, realizing that this was not the time nor the place to be getting all riled up.

Jake is extremely concentrated, choosing to ignore the growing erection in his pants. “Hand me the pliers,” he says, but it comes out more like a command. His toolbox sits next to you, the short distance being close enough for you rummage through it quickly. You subconsciously grind down on his crotch, surprised to feel the outline of his dick through the thick material of his jeans.

His hands instinctively travel to your hips again, a firm grip willing you to stop your movements. “Sorry,” you murmur, becoming drunk on the idea of Jake fucking you long and hard on the kitchen floor.

Jake lets out a small groan, the innocence in your voice seducing him even further. “Here,” you whisper, eyes locking with his for a second through your long, thick eyelashes. He takes the pliers from you, forcing himself to return to the task at hand.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You squirm from above him, wiggling so you can feel him again. Usually you wouldn’t be this bold, but your pussy is hungry and your mind is drunk. Jake chases the feeling too, wishing there was nothing to restrict him from feeling you entirely.

“Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like you want to fuck me,” he replies sternly, the heels of his boots digging into the floor as he drags himself out from under the fryer. The cardboard makes it easier for him to slide out and he’s strong enough to bring you with him, eliciting a gasp from you as you place your hands on his chest to anchor yourself.

He sits up, his left arm immediately wrapping around your waist in the process. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his crotch.

Your hands gingerly rest on his shoulders as you look at him through hooded eyes, were you really going to do this? The sexual tension is blinding you, causing you to make yet another bold remark.

“What if I do want to fuck you?”

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t complain when it gets messy,” he replies coyly, pulling you further into him. Jake’s plump lips latch onto yours, metal lip rings digging into your face. The pain only eggs you on, your hands traveling up his neck and tangling into his hair.

“So eager,” he murmurs into the kiss, scrunching your dress up around your abdomen. His hands find your ass, slapping and kneading the skin in his firm grip. Moans are slipping from you, all of them being swallowed by Jake as he hungrily kisses you back. Your hips grind onto him again, desperate for release.

You’re whimpering, trying to feel as much of him as possible through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you. “Patience, baby,” he moans, but even he’s becoming impatient.

It comes to no surprise when you scoot back onto his thigh and feverishly unzip his pants, he doesn’t protest either, instead he watches eagerly. You make swift work of his pants, Jake lifts his hips to help you tug them off. “I want you to make a mess on my face,” you whisper, hopping off of Jake’s lap so you can wiggle further down.

The suggestion makes Jake’s dick twitch, precum spilling out from the tip and soaking into his boxers. You pull his boxers down and they pool around his ankles alongside his pants. His dick stands up straight, and it’s so big you begin to wonder if this was a good idea. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?

Jake knows exactly what you’re thinking, smirking at the sight of you gawking over the size of his cock. You’re brave though, so you crawl closer to him and slowly begin pumping his shaft. His head is immediately thrown back in pleasure, your touch alone almost being enough for him to spill his seed onto your hand.

You wrap your lips around the tip, your head inching down to the base slowly. If you go any faster, you’ll surely gag around his cock and start crying. “Just like that,” he groans, swooping some of your hair out of your face with one hand as the other holds his dick in place for you. Your lips kiss his hand as you take as much of his as possible, your throat struggling to keep up with the sheer size of him.

His hips thrust into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you that flips a switch in Jake. He wants to hear that sound again and again, so he holds your head firmly and guides it up and down his cock repeatedly. Each time you reach the tip, you gasp for air before he’s pushing you back down again. Saliva is dripping down your chin and bubbling at the corners of your mouth, tricking far enough to coat Jake’s penis entirely.

“Making such a big mess, beautiful,” he grunts, pulling you away from him to get a better look at your face. Streaks of mascara run down your face, your hair is all over the place, and saliva is actively dribbling down your chin. “Come here, let me ruin you,” he instructs, pulling you back down so he can coat your face and uniform in his cum.

He pumps his cock aggressively over your face, watching with a slack jaw as you close your eyes and allow his cum to paint your face. You’re glazed in the liquid, squealing slightly at the new sensation. “Yummy,” you giggle, licking your lips to gather as much of it on your tongue as possible.

Jake isn’t done though, he’s fully prepared to go another round with you, but this time with his dick balls deep in you. Right as you’re about to continue, you hear the front doorbell ring.

“Hello?” a customer asks, peering over the counter in search of an employee. Luckily, because you’re on the floor, you’re perfectly out of view. Jake gets an idea, immediately pulling you onto his lap and pushing your panties to the side so aggressively they rip.

“Sit,” he commands, aligning his cock with your entrance. You look at him in shock and whisper shout, “there’s a customer!” He’s unrelenting, dragging the tip of his cock up your folds as a response. You bite your lip, accepting the challenge as you sit on his thick dick.

A small gasp escapes your mouth once you bottom out, the girth of his cock stretching your walls.

“Hello? Anybody there?!” The customer shouts, tiptoeing to see behind the order window and into the kitchen. They’re becoming more and more impatient by the second.

You begin bouncing on Jake’s dick, his hands leaving prints all over your dress. You’re a whimpering mess, the stretch being both pleasureful and painful.

“C’mon, princess, is anybody there?” he taunts, sucking on the skin of your neck. You pull him in closer by his neck, moaning into his ear as quietly as possible.

“I just want a coffee!” the customer pleads, still trying to find at least one employee. Jake slaps your ass, silently instructing you to respond.

“Take a seat! I’ll be right with you,” you squeak out, trying not to sound like you’re getting your brains fucked out. Jake is satisfied with your response, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you down harder on him.

“You’re making me wait for a coffee?!”

Jake’s angles you forward so he can fuck you harder, his head resting on your chest. “I’m fixing the- fuck,” you begin, but Jake hits a spot inside of you that has you clenching around him. “What are you fixing?” Jake questions, loving how flustered you are.

“I’m fixing the fryer,” you spew out, the lame excuse annoying the customer further. The euphoric feeling in your pussy is enough to wash away any anxiety you feel, your walls clenching around Jake with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, his orgasm from earlier catching up to him. “Cum in me,” you demand, so drunk off his dick that you don’t realize what you said. The idea is enticing, so enticing that Jake doesn’t second guess it either.

One last thrust has him spilling his hot seed inside of you, the warm feeling sending you over the edge shortly after.

“Just a coffee! UNBELIEVABLE.”

“I’m coming,” you yelp, as your orgasm washes over you. You’re whimpering, moaning, and panting as you convulse around Jake’s cock. The statement puts a smirk on his face, you were definitely coming.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Jake is pulling you off of him slowly. You look like a beautiful mess. White liquid drips from your hole down your thighs, your underwear is ripped, your dress is stained from Jake’s oily hands, streaks of mascara run down your cheeks, your face is coated in cum, and your hair is tangled.

“Go get him his coffee,” Jake teases, watching as you slowly realize how crazy you look right now. He slaps your ass one last time before you’re hopping off of him, adjusting your dress and smoothing your hair down haphazardly.

You grab a napkin, running it across your face as you try and clean yourself up as best as possible. It’s no use, you look a mess. Without another word, you’re stumbling out into the lobby.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

BARK BARK BARK

First Jake story

MeOWWWWW

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[lingeriae]

🧘🏾‍♀️

"man, fuck you."

the silence that comes after your words is almost deadly, and it causes your heart to sink.

the sleek black fridge hums in the silence, your eyes are drawn to it as you hear his heavy foot steps move towards you, it's so calm it causes your nerves to rise. you can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he stops infront of you, his muscular body only inches away from being pressed against yours.

your anxious, and a bit excited for what you know is about to come, keeping on a poker face and looking straight, refusing to look up at him.

eren pokes his inner cheek with his tongue as he looks down at you, an eyebrow raised and a dangerous look on his face. a look you were far too familiar with, a look that only meant one thing.

he chuckles, the sound is deep and attractive, fitting for a prettyboy like himself. "s'that right?"

a shudder racked throughout your body at the threat posed as a question, he was testing you, giving you a chance to redeem yourself before he fucked you up. on any other day, you would jump to fix up your words and tone, knowing what would happen if you didn't, but you didn't feel like doing that shit today. not after he ignored you almost the whole day.

maybe you were being dramatic - no fuck that. this is his fault.

you got all dressed up for him, wearing a cute lil lingeriae (wink wonk) that annoyingly went up your ass just for him, only for you to be ignored and neglected like you weren't walking around with the most bomb pussy.

it happened a few hours ago but even now you're still fucking pissed, eren was off work today and your package came early so you decided to suprise him. he was playing his games when you decided to walk in. hips swinging, titties sitting and your sunkissed skin glowing with the shea butter and baby oil you rubbed it with earlier. he cursed loudly as he shot at whatever the fuck he was shooting at on screen, and cussed out connie for being slow, his gaze not moving from the screen even once to acknowledge your presence. it annoyed you a little, but you didn't let that bother you smiling slyly as you walked up to him.

"ren," you called sweetly, swayin on your feet lightly and bitting your bottom lip as you waited for his jade green eyes to meet yours only for your plump lips to downturn when he quickly mumbled out a 'yeah, baby?' without sparring you a single glance. you were starting to get pissed off, was it so fucking hard for him to give you attention?

with a huff you leaned over, taking his jaw into your hand to turn his head towards you, ignoring the complaints he let out. a smile tugged at your lips at the way he paused, looking you up and down and licking his pink lips which parted for a second before you heard talking from his headset, you felt your smile slip as he looked back to the screen.

"eren-"

he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes still not leaving the screen, your frown going unnoticed. "gimme a second babe, m'almost done." your nose scrunched up as you stared at the brunette infront of you, in disbelief of him choosing a fucking game over you. rolling your eyes you walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door shut behind you.

which leads you to being moody all day.

the pretty princess that he was used to no longer being present as you stomped your pretty feet every where you went, face screwed up, side-eyeing the brown haired male every chance you get and mumbling slick shit under your breath.

eren was oblivious to why you were acting this way, and he was slowly getting sick of it. his last straw being when he asked you to pass him a cup only for you to just look at him bad out of the corner of your eyes and fix your pretty lips to ask him

"your hands broke?"

the smell of your vanilla and marshmellow body mist floods his senses as he inhales, his eyes dropping down to your neck to see the glitter that sparkles there. your fucking delicious, is what he thinks as he watches you avoid him with low lidded eyes, a hand comes up to turn your face towards him so that you make eye-contact with him.

you try not to shiver, pursing your lips as you look at him. "who you giving all that attitude to?"

you try to hold in the whimper that threatens to fall from your lips from the tone of his voice, how you could feel it vibrating through you and how your panties soaked with arousal with just that alone.

it isn't fair, the hold he has on you, the reactions he can pull from you by doing the least. his grip tightens on your jaw when you attempt to pull your face away from him, gaze blazing with heat and a thick eyebrow raising as he waited for you to respond.

rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms across your chest, tongue running acorss your top row of teeth. "aint got time for this."

green eyes squinted at you before eren's entire face went blank, he tilted his head at you and you watched as his brown hair swayed with the movement, your body tensing as your face remained blank. "you sure?" those two words have never seemed dangerous until now, paired with the look on his face, it would have anyone shaking in there boots, it shouldn't have excited you but it did.

inhaling deeply, eren listened to the humming of the fridge, trying his best to calm down and not do anything irrational as he knew how your cry-baby ass was. he looked down at you again, watching as you twisted your lips and looked away from him, trying to keep a poker face, his lips quirked up at the side a little, barely noticeable, knowing that you wont be acting this way in a couple of minutes.

"gonna tell me why you're acting like this?"

biting your tongue, you shook your head. "nothing bro, it's fine." you attempt to move past him, his hand lashes out and holds your hips, brinig you back to where you were before which causes you to sigh annoyingly.

"nah, what's up?" eren waited for your reply patiently, watching as you just stared at him with your lips jutted out. he waits, and his patients runs thin.

he lets out a breath through his nose. "cool."

and that's all it takes for you to be in this position, back arched perfectly with your supple breats pressed against the counter top as eren fucks you from behind, chorus' of moans leaving your lips.

"e-eren wait!"

"wait on what? don't play with me, take it and don't run." you felt a pleasurable sting on your ass, gifted to you by the man who was rearranging your guts with vigor.

not once did he stop or pause, lifting your foot so he could plunge into your deeper.

he grabs a fist of your hair, bringing his lips to your ear allowing you to hear the raspiness and deepiness of his tone as he fucked you.

"this what you wanted right...nasty fucking attitude cause you wanted some dick."

feeling the pleasure build in your tummy, begging for a release you grip unto the counter as eren's paced sped up. a series of broken sentences and sweet moans leaving your plump liips as he bullied your pussy with his cock.

"if dick's what you want, ima fucking spoil you with it."

[honeytonedhottie]

micro glow up part one⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

in this post we'll be talking about habits and little ways in which u can improve ur health and appearance without doing anything too drastic. a micro-glow up to stay polished…💬🎀

DRY SHAMPOO ;

dry shampoo helps with smell and reducing oil and all in all just a rly super useful tool that i hope we're all taking advantage of! so to use it simply divide ur hair into sections and shake the canister before application.

make sure that u hold it at least 10-12 inches away from ur roots. and then just brush it out and voila. just get the dry shampoo that matches ur hair color. so for me i have black hair so i'd purchase a dry shampoo that is designed specifically for dark hair.

WRAP UR HAIR AT NIGHT ;

create a protective barrier around ur hair at night to prevent frizz. with things like silk wraps and bonnets etc. treat ur hair LIKE A BABY. be super gentle to it so it can be soft and moisturized. if ur hair is more coarse or thick use the dominican tubi wrap.

CHOOSE THE RIGHT SHAMPOO ;

so theres a difference between ur everyday shampoo and a CLARIFYING shampoo. a clarifying shampoo is simply more of a deep clean so if ur using a clarifying shampoo EVERY single day you'll find that ur hair is lowkey straw-like and thats not the move.

clarifying shampoo is a super deep cleanse for ur scalp and u shouldn't be using it every single day…💬🎀

furthermore using a scalp scrub once a week or two weeks to stimulate ur scalp is rly rly wonderful. to just kind of do a deep clean of ur scalp and stimulate blood flow which can also help hair growth.

IF YOU HAVE ACNE ;

i used to have bad acne so i think im qualified to talk EXTENSIVELY on this subject but i won't make this section of the post too lengthy but i think these tips are valuable if ur struggling with acne…💬🎀

♡ invest in a pimple popping tool kit

u can literally get these off of amazon and u can learn to use them via youtube but as long as u store them properly and use them properly u can get rid of whiteheads and black heads safely and most effectively.

when doing an extraction wash ur hands and the area that ur about to extract from to make sure u have a super clean base. also make sure to soften the skin with a warm washcloth before starting. i've found that it minimizes pain.

hot tip : warm water opens pores and cold water tightens pores which is why when doing an extraction its important to use warm water and when ur done wash with cold water…💬🎀

♡ use blotting papers if u have oily skin

♡ invest in adorable and effective pimple patches

THE IMPORTANCE OF FACE MASKS ;

make sure to understand ur skin type/skin concerns before committing to a specific face masks. for example if u have more oily skin use a clay mask once or twice a week, if u have dryer skin go for a hydrating face mask. i rly rly LOVE sheet masks.

ALL ABOUT BROWS ;

wash ur brows with a gentle cleanser and make sure to keep them groomed cuz it makes ur eyes look bigger and gives u a more rejuvenated look. plus it makes u look very clean. dont forget to wash ur brows because washing them stimulates growth + prevents ingrown and painful pimples within or around ur brows.

ALL ABOUT EARS ;

DONT OVERLOOK UR EARS. make sure to clean in and around ur ears. like when ur showering just take ur finger with a little bit of gentle cleanser and just clean the shell of ur ear, the lobe, behind ur ears etc. do this on a daily basis. it literally takes 2 seconds.

and to clean ur ears DONT use a cotton swab. ik it feels rly good sometimes but what it does is just push the wax back into ur brain or whatever so instead take a cotton ball and soak it in some warm water, hydrogen peroxide and mineral oil and just tilt ur head to the side <- so that the opening of ur ear is facing up and hold for about a minute and then tilt ur head back and let the fluid drain out.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

idk if this is a sex ed question, or if you're the right person to ask, sorry, but do you have any reputable sources about what testosterone *actually* does?

i see people saying it limits your emotions, that it gives you breast cancer, that it makes you malnourished, its a second more dangerous puberty, etc, and I'd like to think im good at picking out lies, but there's a lot of stuff that sounds like bullshit coming from blogs i thought were trustworthy.

if not, all good, thank you in advance!

hi anon,

I'm really glad you sent this ask, because this kind of scaremongering misinformation is deeply upsetting and I'm so happy to provide a better information.

there are tons of reputable sources as to what testosterone does; some that I'll be pulling from in this answer include Cleveland Clinic, Harvard Medical School, University of California San Francisco, Mayo Clinic, the Society for Endocrinology, and Planned Parenthood.

so, what's up testosterone?

testosterone is a hormone produced in everyone's bodies, either in the testes or the ovaries depending on which set of equipment you're working with. all bodies produce both estrogen and testosterone, usually in different levels. regardless of the genitalia you were born with, how you understand your gender, or what levels of testosterone you have in your body, testosterone affects things like your sex drive, your hair growth, muscle and bone density, and the production of red blood cells.

in people born with testes, puberty usually comes with an increase in testosterone that kicks off changes such as growth of the penis and testicles, the production of sperm, an increase in hair growth all over the body, deepening of the voice, greater production of oil on the skin, and an increase in height, weight, and muscle mass.

either an overabundance or a deficit of testosterone can have health complications, just as having more or less of any hormone that a body needs can cause complications.

people who choose to transition by taking testosterone will experience many similar effects as cisgender men going through puberty, including the increase in body hair, skin oils, and muscle mass, as well as a deepening voice. while people on testosterone are unlikely to experience significant growth in terms of height unless they start hormone replacement therapy (HRT) at a fairly young age, testosterone does frequently cause a redistribution of fat on their bodies to be more similar to that of cisgender men. bottom growth, the increased size and sensitivity of the clitoris to more closely resemble a penis, is also common; the clitoris and the penis are homologous structures (they're made out of the same goo when embryos start developing genitalia), hence why they react similarly to testosterone.

to address your specific concerns:

testosterone does not limit the range of a person's emotions. while it may impact a person's mood and the severity of their feelings, the same is true of any hormone - for instance, people also report mood changes when they take antidepressants or birth control. the sometimes drastic mood fluctuations experienced during puberty are not tied to a specific hormone; this is a turbulent time regardless of what hormones your body is producing the most. testosterone is stereotyped as making people angry and violent, but all people are people regardless of their biology and are shaped by much more than the hormones in their body.

while cisgender men and trans people on testosterone can both get breast cancer, testosterone does not pose any particular risk. several of the sources linked about don't find any significant link between taking testosterone HRT and an increased risk of breast cancer, reporting that transgender individuals who take testosterone are not at any particularly higher risk of developing breast cancer than cisgender women. for more detailed information about potential health problems affiliated with taking testosterone, I recommend the "Risks" section of the linked UCSF document. yes, there are health risks affiliated with taking testosterone; this is true of literally any medication and, more importantly, is also true of just being a person with any kind of hormones in your body. cis men and women also have health conditions affiliated with being cis men and cis women, this is the price of admission for having a human body. nobody gets out unscathed.

there is no evidence that testosterone causes someone to become malnourished. people undergoing a testosterone-based puberty, whether they're cis or trans, are likely to experience a great deal of growth and bodily changes that will use a great deal of calories, which means they may be hungry and need more food than they did previously. this is a normal effect of puberty on a body, and is only a risk for malnourishment if a person isn't able to eat in sufficient amounts to keep their body properly nourished.

there is nothing about a testosterone-based puberty that is "more dangerous" than an estrogen-based puberty, which is what I assume is the point of comparison. puberty is a completely natural process that does not pose any significant dangers unless you want to be a real dipshit about it and pull some shit like "puberty is dangerous because you grow breast tissue and then you're at risk for breast cancer," in which case sure, great job, Sherlock. you solved it, puberty is cancelled forever. I cannot emphasize enough how stupid this is, conceptually; roughly half the human population goes through this kind of puberty every day and they're fucking fine. puberty by itself is not a risk factor of anything.

I don't know what particular interest the blogs you've been following have in making testosterone-based puberty sound like it's going to turn you into an emotionally stunted skeleton with breast cancer, although I fear it's transphobia hidden unsubtly behind concern trolling and disdain for cisgender men.

if you're interested in taking testosterone and are concerned about the changes you might see in your body please, for the love of god, consult with reputable health resources and a doctor rather than whatever nematode is posting about testosterone ruining your life.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 13)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“This is just a dream.” Your words came out in a tangled string, altogether as air being forced out of a balloon. You partially sagged as well, instinctively locked muscles loosening again after you’d realize there was another person next to you on the beach. 

She was beautiful, as always, with long silver-blonde hair  and violet eyes cut into a soft face. You froze for the briefest instant at the fact that her tall, Amazonian body was clothed, but dreams never followed the rules. 

With your arms out wide, you reached for the woman that had appeared beside you on the beach. “Right? Is it just a dream? L… like the ones before?”

You wanted it to be true. The swell of hope rose within you like the tide at your feet, but it was tainted by something that shook you and made your heart race.

The truth was like oil leaking through and into your bloodstream, sticking to your veins until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. Until it made you feel sick and trapped inside your own skin. 

“Right?”

The serene expression on Eve’s face gave way and rendered her heartache. She looked at you with violet eyes gone glassy for a long, long moment. 

Eve shook her head slowly. “No.”

—

The realm-traversing portal opened up amidst rolling clouds without much fanfare. Lucifer’s eyes snapped shut as he was accosted by piercing white light on all sides when he stepped out of it. 

“Ugh.” The blond blinked rapidly, trying in vain to adjust to the shift from dark red to blinding light. “It’s like crashing into the sun...” 

Heaven’s gates came into focus. 

“… while it’s going supernova.” Lucifer finished, muttering as he took a moment to shake out his sleeves. 

He stayed in place, readjusting his clothes while his wings folded back behind him. Heaven loomed on the horizon, only a short walk away. A fact that was eroding the King’s resolve with each passing moment.

Lucifer swallowed, straightening his bow tie. 

He wanted to turn back. 

It had been many millennia since he’d stepped foot anywhere near what was once his home; and in spite of the time and the distance, Lucifer could feel dread creeping up on him. The memory of being pushed and plummeting down, down, down into fire and brimstone came to him as if it had happened yesterday. 

Lucifer glanced down, anticipating the rise of molten rock and plumes of smoke as he headed straight into the Earth’s core. 

He was still standing, hands shaking so hard that his apple cane was tapping against the slow yet merrily rolling clouds. 

      The former angel closed his eyes again, inhaling deeply to steel himself. 

This was for you. He needed to know that you were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

This was for you. 

He’d do anything for you. 

Another breath. Lucifer stepped out from behind the clouds and onto the golden path that led to you. Just a few feet away and the blond tried to keep his eyes level with the gate itself, purposefully avoiding the all-knowing symbol above. 

A very bored-looking angel was flicking through the pages of what Lucifer assumed to be a reservation list. He couldn’t quite put a name to the face, as unless St. Peter had dyed his hair and grown a good deal of scruff on his chin, this was someone totally new to the gig. 

      Lucifer grimaced, wondering if this was a boon or not. 

“Excuse me!” Lucifer called up. 

“Ah!” The angel squawked. “Oh! Shi-I mean—!”

He fumbled with the book, accidentally crumpling a page mid-flick. Lucifer waited, tapping his foot nervously while the gatekeeper pulled himself together. 

       Finally, he smacked both hands against the book, using it as leverage to lean over and get a better look at the new arrival. 

“My apologies! Welcome to He-H…” Pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks within the angel’s eyes upon catching sight of the newest ‘arrival’. 

‘Oh fuck, okay.’ Lucifer lamented, posture sinking as he readied himself for a shitstorm. 

       His wings stretched out once more, and Lucifer glided up as stealthily as possible. The angel reeled back upon his approach, horror-struck, while the blond met him face-to-face.

“Yes! Hello there Mmmm—”” Lucifer squinted at the name tag pinned to the angel’s chest. “Matthias! Wonderful to meet you! Unless we’ve met before, in which case I apologize! It’s been quite a while since I’ve been up rather than down. Heh.”

Matthias continued to stare, jaw practically hanging off his face. “Y-you—you’re-!”

Lucifer’s smile waned like a melting candle. He drummed his fingers against the table top and cleared his throat. 

“Right.” Lucifer continued. “So, anyway, I’m here just to say ‘hi’ to a very special someone, and I would be eternally grateful if you could help me out with that.” 

He waited a full minute, watching Matthias shake like a leaf. It left Lucifer torn between irritation and anxiety. 

“Look, I’m not here to make waves.” He tried again. “I’ve done that enough for an immortal lifetime! And you know that, clearly.”

He chuckled, pulling at his collar. “I’m not asking for much. If anything, I’m actually doing my due diligence as far as Heaven is concerned and what’s that you got there? Is that a flip phone? Didn’t know they made those anymore. Who’re you dialin-”

“PETER!” Matthias screeched into the dated device. Lucifer’s whole body flinched at the sheer volume. 

“Wait, no, no, no!” Lucifer panicked, arms flapping to regain Matthias’s attention. 

Matthias continued to rear back until he’d fallen off the podium, and he barely managed to remember his own wings before hitting the ground. 

“Peter!” He cried. “Come back! We have a situation here!”

“No we don’t!” Lucifer tried to butt in. “He’s being ridiculous Peter. Don’t listen to him!”

“You need to get back here now! No, now!” Matthias snapped the phone shut and kept aloft a good distance from the King of Hell. 

He then made the sign of the cross, of all things. 

“Stay back!” The angel yelped. “I’m warning you I-I-I’ve been abstinent for over a hundred years and it didn’t break me! Neither will you, foul Tempter!” 

Lucifer stopped, lips peeling back as if he’d just sucked a lemon. 

“Okay, I didn’t need to know that.” Lucifer said, floating closer. “Look, maybe you didn’t get what I was saying, I’m just—”

“I said stay back!” 

Lucifer groaned, running a hand down his face. “Fuck me for thinking Heaven learned to listen.”

—

You felt lighter as you made your way back into the cityscape of Heaven, although your heart was truly aching. 

     There was no use in staying hidden in the trees, but as you crossed back into the modernized version of paradise, you vowed to return. Unless Eve herself decided to make another reappearance and join the rest of her angelic peers. 

Speaking of which…

Wandering had led you back to the center of the town, and you noticed that it lacked an angel or two… hundred. 

“Where is everyone?” You asked the empty air. Not a soul stirred at your inquiry, but you stared at the cafe on your left. 

     The majority of cafe tables hadn’t been bussed. You peered at the plates of half-eaten pastries and teacups, noting that more than one was still full and steaming. 

“There you are!”

 The unmistakable voice of Emily put a stopper in your confusion. “Where have you been? I was so worried!”

The holy woman hovered before you, unable to stay still as her wings beat against the air frantically. You frowned.

“Hey Emily.” You responded slowly, your brain still picking up the inconsistencies. “Do you know where everyone is?”

The angel shook her head, staggering you as she instantly took your arm and plucked you from the ground like a flower. 

“Woah! Hold on, wait a second!” You choked on your own saliva in surprise. You struggled to pry her delicate hands off of you as you were dragged through the air. “Emily! What’re you doing?”

“You have to come quickly!” Emily exclaimed. 

“Let me go!” You demanded.

You gawked when she just sped up. Emily raced through the empty town center with you dangling behind her, until she had taken you out into the open air. The gate into Heaven rose above all else as you fast approached it. 

—

A crowd had amassed from the city pavilion to stand and watch, aghast at the scene before them. Some cowered in their places while others edged closer to whatever was happening on the other side of the gate. 

     People were still floating in as Emily rocketed toward the front. You had no choice but to follow her lead, windswept hair falling in your eyes and mouth. You spat as you were planted on solid foundation again, and jostled forward by a no less overwrought Emily. 

You parted your hair like curtains, expression already screwed up and twisted in anger. You looked up and over your shoulder at the angel nervously chewing on her lower lip. 

“Excuse my language but what the hell is going on?” You bit out. Ugh, hair still caught on your tongue. 

Emily didn’t deign to give you any answers beyond a hand raised, finger pointing ahead. Her gesture made you scoff, though you let your curiosity get the better of you. 

      The last thing you expected to see was a squad of angels in pastel blues and whites, brandishing technological spears at Lucifer fucking Morningstar. 

“Please, everyone, there’s absolutely no need for any of this!” Lucifer’s tone was an odd mix of disarming and pacifying. 

He was bowed over, arms held out in a bid for calm. It was only met with more hostility, as several of the spears pointed at him sizzled with visible electricity. 

“Spare us your lies, Serpent. And be gone.” One of the aggressors spoke, sporting a remarkably deep voice despite his youthful appearance. A chorus sounded behind the creature, shouts of ‘be gone’ and ‘back to hell’ resounding until the pounding of your heart drowned it all out. 

Your breath came up fast and shallow, the capacity to rationalize long gone at the sight of the Devil.         

     You’d just accepted the loss of him, had exposed the wound he had left behind in your soul to the open air and grieved the lesson it taught you. Death had parted you both and you had been preparing to accept it, no alternative left to contemplate. 

“Lou...”

Mouth open, you tried to formulate your thoughts into words. You were coming up short, voice cracking and striped like a dying animal. 

“Lucifer.” 

You went ramrod straight, electricity enveloping your sight. He staggered.

“LUCIFER!” 

Pain lanced through him, but Lucifer only had eyes for you. You, calling his name and racing forward to grapple with the bars of Heaven’s gate. You, beautiful and glowing and real again. 

The King stood up, gripping the spear that had made contact with him only moment’s ago and throwing it off. Gabriel fell to the wayside like a swatted fly, his squad of soldiers swarming around to try and right him. 

They might as well have ceased to exist as Lucifer moved toward you. Heaven ceased to exist altogether, as soon he was close enough to take your outstretched hands. 

“You’re here.” 

***

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[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets Part 2

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: What a pleasant life it is, to be a widow with no obligations. Getting new dresses, making unlikely friends, what a treat.

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: 18+!!! MINORS DNI (I will haunt you)

Warnings: female masturbation, yearning, Reader decidedly hates Anthony (what's new??) , maybe a bit of angst

A/N: oops my hands slipped and this is what happened. sorry bout that, bruv!

first part - next part

—

“You should have seen him, Meg.”

Her lady’s maid nodded along to Lady Barlow’s rant, having heard the interaction in nauseam since she returned from the park. From his appearance to his demeanor—Meg assumed she might as well have been there. Carefully, she continued to remove the pins from the dowager viscountess’ hair, the very same that she had placed in the morning. 

“I am sure Lord Bridgerton was certainly unagreeable,” Meg droned, accidentally snagging her lady’s hair. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, I am a perfectly capable woman,” (Y/N) laughed, looking at her maid in the mirror. “And he was, unagreeable, if you must know.”

“He is alway unagreeable,” Meg said, exasperated. “My lady, please take no offense, but I think this talk of Lord Bridgerton must cease.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” (Y/N) snorted. “I wish for nothing more than to stop speaking about that oaf.”

Meg blinked. “Right. Of course.”

“You… you do not believe me?”

“I believe you believe it to be true,” Meg carefully stated, hands by her sides. “We have a good friendship, ma’am, and I am ever grateful that you allow me to speak my mind—”

“So speak it,” (Y/N) said, voice tittering on a giggle. “I shall not take offense, I swear it.”

“You have done nothing but speak of Lord Bridgerton since you arrived from your visit to the park,” Meg began, choosing her words carefully. “Save for when you had your meals, hard to speak over soup and the like. I, for one, am exhausted hearing about it. Perhaps a respite from the topic?”

“Imagine how I feel,” (Y/N) finally laughed. “That man makes me insane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I pray whenever he marries—oh that poor woman—I hope she can teach him some manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perhaps I should send him a book on it? Manners, I mean.”

“Good idea, ma’am.”

“Meg, you are not hearing me.”

“Oh I am hearing you,” Meg nodded. “I am just choosing not to listen.”

She bit her lip, eyeing her friend’s faraway glance. Glassy, almost. “Perhaps… I suppose I should drop the topic for now?”

“It is late,” Meg shook her head, nearly dropping out of a trance. “I have mending to attend to, if you do not mind.”

“You hate the mending.”

“Picking and choosing my battles, ma’am,” Meg smiled politely. 

“Admirable,” (Y/N) said. “I suppose it is late…”

“Might I fetch you some more tea before you retire?” She set the last pin down amongst the vanity. Covered in expensive oils and products, it’s a wonder that anyone could find anything at all on the surface. Thank God Meg knew the contents like the back of her hand.

“No… I fear it will keep me up all night, but thank you, truly,” (Y/N) said. 

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And then, she was alone. 

Snuffing her candle, she hopped into her bed. Thankfully she never shared this one with Lord Barlow—that was reserved in the wing across the estate—leaving this bed untouched by such a soiled man. It was pleasantly plush and covered in endless pillows, she wondered if the royal princesses slept in beds as nice as this one—nicer, probably. More pillows, if she had to wager.

Sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes focused on the ceiling, she tried to chase sleep. Her mother had taught her a trick when she was young, imagining rabbits chasing around the room and counting those—perhaps it was sheep? Regardless, she tried counting. She only made it to twenty nine before flipping onto her side, exasperated by the count. 

Sleep never came.

The covers melted off of her body in an instant, floating over to her door to ensure it was locked. Quietly, oh-so quietly, she turned the latch. No need for the staff to interrupt her… sleep. She hardly had to turn to such matters, but when exhaustion cycled her brain and not her body, leaving her tossing and turning all night, she really had no other choice. 

No other choice, she reminded herself. 

She laid on top of the covers this time, rabbits and sheep all but forgotten.

If there was to be one positive of marrying, it was the sheer fact that she was able to fully understand her body as a woman. While the marital act itself was entirely loathsome—a chore with Lord Barlow that happened infrequently during their marriage to try for an heir—the act of doing it alone? 

Why the idea alone just got her heart pounding. 

She never had anyone to teach her these things, her mother passed before her marriage, so there was no ‘wedding night talk’. Everything that Lady Barlow had learned was from her sheer will and determination—a chase for something she never quite knew she was racing towards. Her husband? He had never been any help. A few grunts and thrusts before he would spend himself inside, collapsing on top of her for the night. 

She refused to give her late husband much thought—not when her hands were on her breasts, one slinking lower to touch a more delicate area. 

No. She needed to focus her thinking on something else. Something to get the job done, send her to sleep sooner than later. 

The gentleman. The faceless one that she imagined in place of her own hands. It usually sped things along if she focused on a generally well-looking fellow and how he’d touch her instead of just chasing her own feelings with her fingertips. Saved her wrists a lot of pain too—occasionally she felt like she was back practicing her penmanship, writing lines all day with her governess—the ache was fairly similar. Although, one pain caused a higher embarrassment than the other.

Decidedly happy with her diversion of thought, she made quick work on the bottom of her nightdress and pulled it up to her stomach. (Y/N) had never the need to sleep with drawers, feeling a dress was more than enough. Besides, it gave her easy access on nights like tonight. Her fingers danced with her lower lips, already damp with arousal. 

She sighed at the first contact, the pure ecstasy of running her fingertips across her glistening folds. In her mind, he was doing this to her, the nameless man who wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. With slow and tantalizing circles, she teased her clit, gasps leaving her lips involuntarily, her eyes rolling shut before she could even think. Her non-dominant hand continued to grasp at her breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh until she was utterly mindless. 

The climb was thrilling, it was suffocating and all encompassing. How she dreamed she could experience this with someone, feel this pleasure with another, both giving and taking exactly what the other needed. She groaned again, feeling herself getting closer to the edge, her circles faster now, the gentleman making good work on her neglected center. 

“Gods,” (Y/N) cried, trying her very best to keep her voice down. She didn’t need Meg inquiring about her, not when she was so worked up and so, so close.

And then… the fall. Everything was white and her heart felt like it was bound to beat out of her chest.     

Brown eyes.

As she fell into a peaceful slumber, for no reason in particular, she decided her faceless gentleman had brown eyes. 

—

Breaking her fast was usually rewarding, the chefs at Barlow Estate were some of the most talented in the ton—of course, only in her humble opinion, not that she had much to compare it to. When she first married Lord Barlow, having such fulfilling meals first thing in morning was almost worth marrying such an oaf. Almost.

“Did you have a good sleep, ma’am?” A butler asked, taking (Y/N)’s empty plate, replacing it with one full of fresh cut fruit.

“Oh!” Her face flushed. “Y-yes, James, of course. I always have a pleasant sleep.”

“You look well rested, ma’am,” he nodded.

“My lady,” Meg spoke up, gaining the attention of Lady Barlow from her fruit. “You have an appointment at the modiste early this afternoon.”

“I don’t recall making an appointment,” (Y/N) held her hand still, half of an apple tight in her grasp.

“I made the appointment, ma’am,” Meg said. “You are in need of new dresses—” 

“Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

“Of course not,” Meg said quickly, her face growing slightly pink. “It is just, since the late Lord Barlow passed you have been in mourning attire—blacks, blues, the entire dreary ensemble. I figured it would be best to get dresses that suited more the colors of the season.”

“I am unsure if you noticed,” (Y/N) said, taking a small bite of her apple. She chewed it quickly. “But my dress today is green.”

“I did notice,” Meg nodded politely. “It is a lovely color, but perhaps a lighter blue would be nice? A purple?���

“Perhaps you should listen to her, ma’am,” James interjected. “The family account has not been used since after your wedding and the mourning attire—”

“And I can use that money elsewhere,” (Y/N) raised her brow. “I’m sure the new viscount will be pleased I am not blowing his money so frivolously, I do not see the need for new dresses.”

Meg sighed, giving James a trying look. He shrugged. “Humor me. Just one dress.”

“Fine. One dress."

Somehow, between the carriage ride to the modiste and the tailoring of a beautiful purple display piece, Lady (Y/N) Barlow was talked into three new dresses. A sharp pinprick to her left leg brought her back to her senses. 

“Oh! Lady Barlow, I do apologize,” Madame Delacroix said. “You must keep still as I pin your hems."

“I will try my best,” (Y/N) smiled, glancing down at the woman working hard on her new dress. “How fortunate the display dress you had fits so well.”

“Oui, how fortunate,” Madame Delacroix nodded. “A few pins and stitches and it will be perfect. And this color is very flattering—I am certain the men of the ton will turn their heads at this.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I have no need to turn heads, Madame,” (Y/N) said curtly. “I am simply just refreshing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, no one has the need to turn heads, save for the young ladies,” Madame Delacroix giggled, it sounded almost fake, forced. “But my work will do that regardless, so do expect that Lady Barlow.”

“Joy,” (Y/N) sighed, tilting her head at her reflection. While it hadn’t been an extraordinarily long time since she debuted—a shake over three years at the most—she was no longer the young girl from her first season. Her curves have filled out, her features more defined, so this particular cut was suiting her just fine. Madame Delacroix was the best modiste for a reason, knowing just how to make the ladies of the ton sparkle.

The front door swung open, a sea of blue flooding in the entryway. “Ah, Lady Bridgerton, I shall be with you in a moment!” Madame Delacroix called out.

(Y/N) froze at the mere mention of the Bridgerton name.

“Take your time, Madame,” Lady Bridgerton cooed, practically shoving a book of fabrics in her daughter’s face. Eloise, (Y/N) recalls, the second eldest daughter of the brood. It was her first season. “We’ll be patient.”

“Shall I pull another dress, Lady Barlow?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head wildly. “I rather think I am finished for this afternoon. Please add the dresses to my account—”

“Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton said kindly. “How lovely it is to see you.”

Fuck.

“Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) curtsied, feeling far too proper. “Likewise.”

“What a lovely color that is on you,” she said, eying the girl up and down. “I take it you are out of mourning then, yes?”

“Have been since the Danbury Ball,” (Y/N) nodded. “But I gather Lady Whistledown has already made that public knowledge.” 

Lady Bridgerton's cheeks flushed, like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar. “I cannot say that I find myself reading that gossip rag often, but—”

“Oh Mother,” Eloise groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “You read Whistledown just as often as I.”

“I do not blame you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) quickly added. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “For the many months I was in mourning and not socializing, Whistledown was my way I could keep up with everything. I very much would like to thank her, should I ever get the opportunity.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “In any case, if you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, would you like to join me for tea?”

“Tea?”

“I remember how it felt when—” she stopped herself, eyes becoming glassy. “Becoming a widow so suddenly is difficult. I would like to bestow my wisdom upon you if you’d allow it.”

“You are not quite old enough to be bestowing wisdom,” (Y/N) laughed lightly.

“I beg to differ,” Eloise mumbled.

“Flattery, Lady Barlow, will get you everywhere,” Lady Bridgerton smiled, elbowing her daughter lightly. “And you already have the invite, no need to lay it on so thick.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

“So, shall we say noon tomorrow?”

The Bridgertons, as Lady Barlow gathered, were a difficult lot to say no to.

“Noon. Sounds perfect.”

—

It felt odd, being in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. She only ever had the fleeting thought that she’d ever sit here the once—ages ago during her first season. Now? Now she was sitting and drinking tea with Lady Bridgerton as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“You have a lovely home,” (Y/N) said, holding her teacup a little tighter than she should. 

“Thank you,” Lady Bridgerton said voice full of appreciation. “Tell me, Lady Barlow, how is your family?”

“My family?”

“Oh, forgive me for asking,” Lady Bridgerton clarified. “I just had realized that I know very little about you, you were only in the season for such a short time before you married. I figured your family was a good place to start.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) put the cup down. “I understand. Seeing as everyone knows about your family,” Lady Bridgerton chuckled at that, “I should only fill in some blank spaces, I suppose.”

The elder dowager nodded her head, tipping her cup at the younger widow to continue.

“No family, I’m afraid,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering on sad. “Mother passed a few years before my debut, Father just last year. No siblings, so… just me I’m afraid.”

“Goodness,” Lady Bridgerton pressed a hand to her heart. “Your father and husband in the same year? I am truly sorry for your losses.”

“My mother was the true loss,” she said honestly, her voice practically lifting. “Kindest soul to grace this Earth, I mourn her every day. The others? I do not doubt anyone has missed them.”

“Lord Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “He was an odious man. When I had heard he had taken another wife—it was quite the story around the ton. I was beside myself.”

“I happen to be number three,” (Y/N) said matter-of-factly. “Number One and Two both died in childbirth, trying to give that man his beloved heir. Never worked out, and I cannot say I am crestfallen I never came to be with child, either. The new Lord Barlow is quite well suited for the role regardless, I am told, so I suppose it has worked out for the best.”

“Yes,” Lady Bridgerton had a small smile against her lips, “I can imagine so.”

“Does your son,” (Y/N) coughed, correcting herself, “Lord Bridgerton, does he know I am here for tea?”

“Oh my son is not always privy to my social calendar,” the older woman winked. “He is probably out galavanting and trying to find a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Bridgerton nearly beamed. “Lord Bridgerton is finally looking to marry—even after all these years of begging him. Something just clicked last season, I suppose. Perhaps Daphne, the duchess, marrying finally gave him the right idea?”

(Y/N) nodded politely. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“I only wish for the best for all eight of my children,” she nodded, “so seeing him look to marry makes me ever hopeful.” 

“Mhm,” (Y/N) sank into more of her cup, polishing it off.

The grand clock ticked away. 

“I apologize if this all makes you uncomfortable Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton started. “It is just… when Edmund passed, I had my family and wonderful friends to support me. I figured, perhaps, having another friend would not be the worst thing?”

“Lady Bridgerton, you are very kind for checking in with me, and I very much appreciate this tea,” (Y/N) said honestly. She felt like she could jump out of her skin with anxiety, but tried her very best to keep it under control. “But… as you had alluded, it is no secret that Lord Barlow and I were not a love match. There is no need—”

“Being a widow is hard,” Lady Bridgerton cut her off. “It is rotten work and you feel like a shell of yourself, only having a title such as ours because of who we married and not in our own right. Tell me, do you plan on remarrying?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am quite content with my life,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “Widows have all the freedom in the world, I am allowed many opportunities because of it—far more than when I was simply a little thing on the Marriage Mart.”

“I suppose that would be… correct,” Lady Bridgerton treaded lightly. “However, do you not wish for a family? The support of another?”

“It is not that I do not wish for a family,” (Y/N) said truthfully. “I am sure part of me does, but it is more the matter of everything that comes with it.”

“I could never imagine going about life alone,” Lady Bridgerton said. “After Edmund… I am just grateful my children were here to keep me sane, grounded, even.”

“Children can be a blessing…”

“But children,” Lady Bridgerton added quickly, “they are not for everyone. I hope you find happiness in whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” the young viscountess said sincerely. “You have such a wonderful life, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet,” she corrected. “Please, call me Violet.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s cheeks darkened. “Violet, then.”

“We are friends now, after all,” Violet smiled kindly, the kind of smile only a mother possessed. She waved for the tea to be replaced, a butler practically rushed to fulfill the viscountess’ request. “More tea?”

“I would love some more,” (Y/N) said, feeling lighter than air. Perhaps having a friend was a good step forward, a leap into the right direction.

The door to the drawing room slammed open.

“Mother, I just received our balance from the modiste and—”

Much like he owned the place—and in a way, he did—Lord Bridgerton took command of the less-than-quaint room and had all eye on him. His own eyes—his brown eyes—were trained solely on the widow sitting beside his mother, his mouth agape.

“Oh Anthony, you cannot just barge in here,” Violet scolded, “we have a guest.”

“I see that,” he seethed, shoving his hands behind his back in faux-decorum. “Lady Barlow.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded stiffly, not bothering to raise from her seat.

He ignored her, turning swiftly to his mother instead. “May I have a word alone with our guest, Mother?”

Feeling the tension in the room rise, Violet sighed, giving into her son’s request. “I believe I should check on the governess, anyhow,” Violet said, rising from her seated position. “Behave.”

Anthony brushed his mother’s whispered warning off, tilting his head to the staff, all leaving the room at his command. The door had barely clicked shut before he stepped forward. “Since when are you friends with my mother?”

“Since when do you care about who I spend my time with?”

“Since that company is my mother,” he said cooly. “I would have thought you were just so turned off by the Bridgerton name that you would ignore all of my family—”

“She is a nice woman,” (Y/N) rose, crossing her arms. “How you managed to turn out the way you have despite that is beyond me.”

“You are in my home,” Anthony pointed. “You insult my character and you dare try to befriend my mother?”

“Dare?” She laughed. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Not with my mother,” he stepped towards her. 

“Your mother,” she smiled forcefully, “Violet, has been nothing but kind to me today. She was merely looking out for me—offered me some good advice.”

“Advice?” He laughed. “On what planet could someone many years your senior offer you helpful advice?”

“You could not settle with just insulting me, so you had to insult your own mother? She is not yet elderly—”

“Yet she is older than you,” he corrected, his cheeks pink from his mistake. “Do you not have friends your own age?”

“Do you not have something better to do?”

He huffed, squeezing his wrist in restraint. “I came here to speak with my mother—”

“Yet you shooed her out of the room and decided to speak to me instead,” she countered, stepping closer. “To insult me? To threaten me? Whichever, I suppose, I will never understand. I decided to take tea with Lady Bridgerton because she offered it—offered advice on being a widow, something you have already known about me.”

“I wouldn’t wish for her to hear our conversation, besides, her advice could not have been that helpful,” Anthony snorted. “My parents were in love, her trials of being a widow pales in comparison to your situation—”

“The one in which I also lost a husband? The sole definition of being a widow?” She said, her arms tight against her chest. “That situation?”

The grand clock—that damned grand clock—chimed in the uncomfortable silence, a new hour beginning.

“I may not have loved Lord Barlow,” she admitted. “He may not even have been a friend to me, but I still am a lady who has lost her husband—a lady who has so much as lost her way in this fucked world, a world where a woman cannot simply be without one. Your mother was simply being kind.”

“I did not mean…” Anthony’s posture softened, even just a bit, words caught in his throat.

“But you did,” she pointed. “If you hadn’t meant it, you wouldn’t have said it. My, Lord Bridgerton, you certainly have a way with words, much like you always have, it seems.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She looked at the clock. “I must take my leave. I am expected to be back home soon, the estate certainly cannot run itself, seeing as my husband,” she nearly spat the word, “has left it to my care. What a thoughtful man he was.”

“I—Lady Barlow,” Anthony started, unsure of where he was going with it. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Keep them,” she smiled. “They are nearly as useless as you are. Excuse me.” Lady Barlow opened the door with haste, nodding to the staff members who were waiting outside. Her lady’s maid, Meg, followed only a few steps behind her, her attention caught on the wounded viscount in blue.

Anthony practically dissolved into the arm chair, unsure of what to do next. He had half a mind to go to his study to drink, to pour over the invoices that had him enter this room in the first place. His interactions with Lady Barlow usually left him buzzing, his blood boiling and his ego only partially wounded. How he was left feeling so defeated was beyond him.

“A way with words?” He mumbled to himself. “I never wish to understand that woman.”

Yet, a part of him nearly screamed the opposite.

How peculiar.  

—

Roses and Regrets Tag List:

@creative-heart , @sunshineangel-reads

want to be added to my taglist? comment below!

[coqxettee]

THAT girl Night Routine

I haven’t blogged in forever, and for that I’m truly sorry (I was in a blogging rut and just genuinely had no idea or motivation to post anything, so I’m kinda writing this not only for myself but for any of the girlies out there trying to get a structured night routine for the coming summer ༓ ☾.｡*ﾟ+.

Start your “Night Routine” at a certain time - Now the evenings are staying lighter, this can be difficult, but I’d say starting at 6:00PM or 7:00PM is a good starting time. Ideally start it after you have had your last meal of the day. Let this be the time of the day that you are going to begin to switch off and get ready to relax ♡

If you like to stretch or do yoga in the evening , do this and then do your skincare and have a shower afterwards, even if it is a quick one. It will make you feel so much more fresh and clean when you put your pyjamas on ♡

Shower - I know some girlies prefer to shower in the morning which is totally okay! And some girls shower twice a day (but of course this isn’t practical for everyone) - If you do choose to shower of an evening, make sure to use calming products. Products with lavender in, essential oils etc can also be really good because lavender has calming properties in it. Moisturise, and if your feeling extra, spray a few spritz of perfume. (I know it sounds crazy but Marilyn Monroe used to do this before bed!) If you are planning on doing a nice hairstyle the next day, prep your hair. Put your overnight curlers in or rollers ♡

Get changed into Pyjamas - *Important* make sure you are picking girly, cozy pyjamas to wear. Feeling luxury even when your just relaxing makes the biggest difference without you realising. Instead of wearing a huge baggy shirt and shorts, wear something satin or linen, something with florals or a pretty pink dressing gown. Soft materials and light pastel colours. Victoria’s Secret have some beautiful pyjamas (I love the striped one’s) and pretty satin robes too. There’s no better feeling than getting out the shower and putting on fresh pyjamas for the evening. A cute fluffy pair of slippers or socks is perfect too ♡

Take off your makeup and do your skincare - *So important* Don’t ever go to bed with makeup on and don’t ever skip your skincare routine. I know (trust me) how tempting it can be to just go straight to bed, but your skin with thank you in the long run and so will you when you wake up in the morning. Spend time with your skincare and try not to think of it as a *chore*. It’s taking care of yourself! So cherish that ♡

Set the evening mood - Tidy your room once more (so your not waking up to a cluttered space), light a candle, switch on fairy-lights. Do whatever you need to, to make your room or space around you more cozy. Main lights in the evening are a no-go. They wake you up and don’t let your eyes or body relax. Soft lighting is key, maybe spritz your room with a relaxing lavender room spray, get your bed ready too. Fluff the pillows, spray pillow mist, set back the covers, do whatever you need to do to let your body and mind know that your getting ready to settle in for the night ♡

Limit screen time - If you are going to go on your phone/technology before bed, make sure the media you are so consuming is light and makes you feel comforted. Do not watch anything too deep that will play on your sub-conscious mind. Girly videos or vlogs are lovely to watch because they put you in such a lovely mood. I know how tempting it can be to be on your phone right up until the last minute when your eyes close. Some of us even believe we HAVE to be on our phones or be watching something, in order to get to sleep. Whilst this may be true for some people, if this is the case for you, just try one evening going to sleep without looking at a screen. I try to limit screen time 2 hours before bed, and don’t look at my phone 45 minutes before sleeping ♡

Journal/reflect/plan - Evening’s are a perfect time to journal about your day in your diary, write out some journal prompts and make your to-do list for the next day. To be an organised girly you have to know what the next day is going to bring, so making a to-do list so you can make the most of your time is key to a successful and productive day ♡

Meditate - I know meditation is not for everyone, but I myself try to meditate once every day, and the lasting effect it can have on your mental health is so impactful and really a beautiful thing. It helps us rationalise things, put our brains to sleep and sets us in a calm and tranquil state for the evening ♡

Make a warm drink - We give babies warm milk to help them sleep and with us, it’s not really that different. milk does contain tryptophan – an amino acid which is thought to help promote feelings of sleepiness. If you don’t like milk, try chamomile/lavender tea or a hot chocolate. Something comforting that will warm you from the inside out and help with drowsiness before sleep.

Read - Hot girls read. That is a fact. But reading is not only beneficial for one’s intellect but it is such a calming and relaxed act, especially when you have a beautiful book you can escape into right before sleeping. Make sure the book you choose is once again light-hearted and is going to be something that makes you feel happy and cozy before you switch your brain off to sleep ♡

Sleep - The most important part of this routine and the reason why you have taken so much care with your evening routine. Gorgeous, gorgeous girlies get at LEAST 7-9 hours sleep every night. Sleep is one of the most important things in life, and for so many reasons, but mainly - It affects everything you do. Your brain, your sub-conscious, how you feel about yourself, your appetite, your skin & eyes, your mood and your energy levels. Absolutely everything about you is affected by sleep, so make sure you get enough. Try to sleep in darkness (or with a small light if you need one) or an eye mask, don’t forget to set an alarm for the next day too ♡

Extra evening tips:

Some important things to consider ♡

Don’t eat late before going to bed! It’s not good for you! Avoid coffee or things with sugar in as these will give your energy instead of helping you to wind down ♡

Satin bedsheets/pillow cases are perfect for protecting your skin and hair. They allow your skin to breathe and protect your hair from marsh materials which helps it to grow ♡

Call a friend/text a loved one in the evening. I love with my parents so I always spend time with my mum before going to bed, but it’s a lovely thing to check on someone before setting in for the evening ♡

Whilst limiting screen time is important, watching one episode of a comfort series or show can help you feel so happy and comforted ♡

Whilst your going about your evening routine, listen to soft girly music. Or classical music if you want more of classic vibe to your night ♡

Listen to subliminal’s overnight!! *Important* and I feel like most of us forget to. But there are so many you can listen to just overnight, and the results will be so worth it ♡

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Matt dating a black girl✯

-he doesn’t know how he pulled you fr but he’s very happy he did

-if you’re rowdy (like me fr) he gets stressed.

-I’m talking deep sighs and rubbing over his face in frustration

-“bitches can’t say excuse me?”

-“y/n please don’t start.”

-“you saying that makes me want to start”

-when he gets in his lil moods (tough guy) yall bud heads

-“Matt who are you talking to cause I know damn well it’s not me!”

-hears your tone and apologizes (it’s the same tone our mommas use when we talk back💀)

-for my soft black girlies, you always have him giggling like a lil girl

-“you so handsome, I just wanna smother you in kisses!”

-if he catches an attitude with you and you gets upset, he’s on his knees saying sorry.

-if you got ass, he can’t handle the twerking😭 his head actually moves in circles and his eyes are WIDE!!!

-sexxy redd comes on at a party and you start dancing, this man starts blushing and everyone tells him he can’t handle you (he can)

-he loves when you sit on his lap. Chairs are available? He does not give af, SIT ON HIS LAP!!!

-if you got titties, his eyes won’t stay off of em. You could be wearing a regular tshirt and he gonna be like 👀

-“Matt stop looking at my boobs I’m literally in my wash day tshirt”

-“don’t care, I’m not arguing with a girl who has big boobs!”

-speaking of wash day

-this man loves watching the process

-keeps asking questions like a lil kid

-“what’s this for? Why do you need to many creams and oils? Does that hurt? WHY IS SO MUCH HAIR COMING OUT!?”

-“stop talking to me because my hair isn’t acting right and I’m two seconds away from crying and hitting myself with this brush.”

-wants to help but chooses not too, afraid he will put the wrong creme in the wrong order

-he loves going to the beauty supply because the aunties fawn over him.

-“hey Matt baby! Our girl treating you right?”

-“hi auntie Yolanda. She is, but she got mad because I didn’t get her candy she wanted.”

-“y/n if you don’t leave this boy alone!”

-“I didn’t even do anything!”

-buys all your stuff with no problem!

-“you always smell like pancakes and syrup.”

-goes feral over your shea butter, coco butter, vanilla, brown sugar scent.

-I’m talking he wants to be all over you and possibly have sex anywhere.

-“Matt we are in the car going to my parents house!”

-“Please? I’ll be quick.”

-he doesn’t not understand time! If you don’t know what I mean, let me explain.

-“shouldn’t we be leaving now? It starts at 5.”

-“no. 5 means you will be helping set up. We need to be there at 6:15.”

-blinks at you in confusion but nods anyway.

-if you not that close to your fam he gets confused as to why

-“don’t you think you should talk to them? That argument happened two years ago?”

-“and I’ll still swing at thanksgiving dinner!”

-loves eating at your parents house but thinks everything is supper spicy.

-“Matt it’s literally just seasoning salt?¿”

-“are you sure?”

-lowkey gets mouthy with your family on accident but he apologizes when your mom gives him, the look (yall know what im talking about)

-At the cook out he’s gets roped in to grilling.

-mf suddenly has a towel over his shoulder and joking with your uncles.

-he does sum that makes you and your fam look at him oddly.

-“Gon head and sit at the kids table baby.”

That’s all I can think of💀 hope yall enjoy

TAG LIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @iloveurgf @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @that-general-simp

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

[troublesomesnitch]

Uneasy Lies the Head

Aegon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (but subtle)

This is my contribution to @targaryen-dynasty's Sleepover Challenge! I was given the prompt only one bed/forced proximity and came up with this little drabble.

Contents: masturbation, lots of incestuous vibes, but no actual incest (sorry). Also minor 'historical' and HOTD inaccuracies.

Words: 1600

Military camps are a humble affair. Even for a king. 

They have been on the march for days, waiting for news of the enemy’s movements, and enduring the most discouraging conditions. Dust caking onto their skin, painful bug bites, and having to shit in a ditch in the woods, just to name a few.

Aegon’s tent is the nicest by far, but it is still a poor imitation of what he is used to. There are furs laid out on the ground, and an oil lamp hung from the rafters, but the banner on the wall is crooked, and the furnishings leave much to be desired. All they’ve arranged for him is a wobbly table, six uncomfortable chairs, and two cots on the ground. 

One for the king, and one for his brother. 

They have not shared a chamber since they were boys. Aegon doesn’t mind it so much, but Aemond’s mouth forms an even thinner line than usual, and he makes a terrible fuss when he undresses for bed. It will be scorching hot in the tent come the morning, but his shirt stays on, and he pulls at the edge until it reaches the middle of his thighs. Lest anything indecent be on show. 

“Seven hells, I’m your brother,” Aegon says, but it only earns him an irritated sound as Aemond settles on his cot. Flat on his back, hands folded over his chest, and not a single wrinkle in the sheets draped across his form. 

Aegon retires too, much earlier than he usually would. He is sore in his muscles, and fed up with bickering advisors and difficult decisions. With riding all day, with hurry up and wait. 

There are wineskins being passed around outside, and girls too, the usual camp followers. But none of them much appealed to him tonight. Nothing out here really does.

And yet. 

When Aegon wakes sometime in the small hours, it is with a terrible ache between his legs. His cock is hard, lying stiff and leaking against his stomach, and there is a tightness in his balls that demands attention. 

He has not had the chance to indulge in pleasures of the solitary kind, as the camp offers him no privacy - not when he is surrounded by lords at all times, and certainly not now, with Aemond sleeping just a few feet away. 

He is so close that Aegon can hear his slow breaths, and smell his scent of sweat and expensive oils. Somehow, it is strangely comforting. Nice to know that he perspires just the same as everyone else, even if there’s still a pleasant hint of sandalwood underneath.

In fact, Aegon does not believe he has ever seen his brother in such a candid state as just now. Aemond’s face is flushed with heat, and his lips are ever so slightly parted; dry and chapped from the harsh summer sun. The shirt is still on, but damp with sweat and loosened at the neck, baring his glistening collar bones; the golden hair that curls on his chest. 

Aegon still has that boyish quality about him, but Aemond looks like a fully grown man. Like someone who could and should lead an army to battle. He acts more like a grown man too, as Aegon will be the first to admit. Noble. Dignified. 

Aemond would never be caught drunkenly roaming the streets of King’s Landing. He does not share his brother's fondness for spirits and women. 

Once, when they were alone in the training yard, Aegon had dared to ask you do fuck, right?, and Aemond had rolled his eye and looked at him as though it was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. 

Aegon took that as a yes. 

He would like for them to share a girl sometime, like royal princes should, like Father and Daemon undoubtedly did in their youth. He would even let Aemond choose the girl, picky as he is, and let him have first pick of her openings too. He’d choose her cunt of course, because that is the proper way, but he wouldn’t call it her cunt, he would call it something more poetic and ridiculous. Her womanhood. Her flower. 

Twat. 

But it is still a nice thing for Aegon to imagine when he starts quietly fisting his cock under the sheet. A whore kneeling on a bed, Aemond behind her and himself by her head. Cocks buried to the hilt, and wet, squelching noises coming from both ends. Aemond’s balls slapping against her arse, and his own hitting her chin. 

Or, if that is not to Aemond’s liking, then Aegon would be glad to switch places. The girl would be on her back, and he would fuck her the usual way, and they could make her squeeze her tits together and have Aemond fuck the valley in between. Because that is the one thing Aegon knows about his brother’s preferences - he does like a good pair of tits. And it’d be perfect for Aegon too, because while he would get to feel the girl’s insides, he would also be able to look at the action in front of him. See her fleshy, bouncing tits, and Aemond’s cock sliding in between. Hard, and glistening with oil, as obviously they would need some lubrication. Aegon could even help hold her tits in place, if need be. In such a position, his and Aemond’s bodies would be so close that they’d have no choice but to move together, keep the same rhythm, or else neither would be able to find his release. What a dirty thing that would be, to fuck like that. Together. 

But unfortunately, it is highly unlikely that Aemond would ever agree to something so exceedingly intimate.

So perhaps they would take turns instead, in which case Aegon would be charitable and volunteer to be second for once. He would not ask the girl to wash herself in between - he would fuck her right after, while her cunt was still full of his brother’s emission. 

And of course, the filthiest thing of all would be to make use of both of her holes at once. Aegon can think of only one position that would make it possible: the girl would have to be on all fours, and Aemond would lie underneath her and fuck up into her cunt. He would have her tits in his face, squeezing them tight and sucking on her nipples, and then Aegon would stand between his legs and slide his cock into the girl’s arse. 

The thought of it makes his balls feel tight, and he pumps his cock with one hand, and massages his sack with the other, spurred on by the filthy images in his head. 

A pretty girl bent over a table, or riding his brother, or taking them both in her mouth at the same time. His own cock pulsing in her arse. Aemond in his moment of ecstasy, spilling himself all over her tits. 

They would leave her covered and full of their royal seed. Dragon’s seed. Surely for a common whore there could be no higher honour. 

Aegon tries his best to keep silent when he comes, gritting his teeth and gripping onto the edge of his cot. His cock throbs, and he rubs the tip of it hard, each squirt of seed making his body tremble and his hips thrust up. Unwittingly, and over and over until he finally feels relieved and can wipe his fingers clean on the sheet. 

It is quiet in the tent, and unsettlingly quiet outside. The sounds of drunkenness have died down, and even the grasshoppers have stopped chirping, as if time itself stood still. 

With his urges now taken care of, it takes only moments for the knot in Aegon's stomach to tighten once more.

There will be a great battle, and then several more after that, and hundreds, thousands of men will die in his name. Their wives will mourn, and their children will starve when no one is left to farm the lands, and all of the grains they have saved will soon be requisitioned for the armies. Green and black alike. 

In the weeks that have passed since his coronation, Aegon has come to realise that his father’s crown was too light and too shiny, and that the blackened iron he now wears is a better adornment. It is heavy, and ugly, and a much truer reflection of what it means to be king; of the burden he must now carry on his woefully ill-prepared shoulders. 

There are two with whom he can share it, though. Two who would die for his cause, out of love as much as duty, and one of them is asleep in this very room. 

“Aemond,” he calls, quietly, like he would often do when they were very little and still slept in the nursery. As if to make sure he was still there. “Aemond. Aemond. Aemond?”

“What,” Aemond grumbles, hoarse with sleep, but as irritable as always. He stirs on his cot, wiping the sweat off his brow and shuffling around under the sheet. The soaked shirt is pulled over his head and tossed aside. Too hot.

“I told you,” Aegon says. 

“Are you quite finished,” is his brother’s sullen response. 

It must just be the talking he’s referring to, but. Aegon can’t be sure.

Proof read, but my brain is mush today, so sincere apologies for all the stuff I've missed.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

A - G (Part 1)

Content : Rengoku X Fem Reader X Uzui. NSFW one shots.

A-Z prompts, part 1~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Uzui and Rengoku are the best when it comes to aftercare. They know they've put you through it and that your body took quite the pounding since you perfectly satisfied both of them, as you always do. Even their bodies pressing against you, bringing you down from your highs as their weight and heat relaxed you made you groan in content. Rengoku is more active in aftercare, wiping you down with a cloth, getting you a glass of water, making sure you're clean and present, sometimes even bringing you some food if he feels like you're too exhausted. On nights where things get especially messy, he'll draw you a hot bath while Uzui tends to you, dropping in some soothing oils before going back to the bedroom and carrying you to said bath. Both men will get in with you, massaging and bathing you, taking care of you as you fall asleep in the comfort of their arms. Uzui was better at bringing you down to reality emotionally. He'd caress you face, whisper praises and words of affirmation as he kisses you all over. He'll stoke your hair lovingly as he looks down at you with so much adoration in his eyes, you feel like tearing up. He'll tell you how good you were, how lucky they are to have you, how you're the most stunning princess and how you please them so well. He'll lay down and bring you to his chest, big strong arms holding you tightly, the sound of his heartbeat soothing, truly feeling like he'll never let anything hurt you and you'd be right.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Uzui loves your booty. This man can't get enough of it. Whether it's a light tap as he walks by you, or a gentle squeeze as you kiss, or just holding it while he sleeps, or spanking you as he fucks into you from behind- He loves getting his hands on that ass. So plump and juicy- he sometimes uses your butt as a pillow if you happen to be relaxing while lying down on your stomach and other times, he'll just pull your pants down and bite your ass, laughing at your squeal as he leaves his teeth marks behind on your butt. He'll buy you pretty and skimpy underwear just so you can give him a show, cock hardening as he sees the way the fabric shapes your peachy butt. Uzui is very proud of his physique and honestly can't choose which part of his body is his favorite. Whether it's his height, his washboard abs, his bulging muscles, his firm pecs, thick thighs or fat cock- he's worked very hard to get the body he has and is more than thrilled that you like to worship his physique just as much as he does.

On you, Rengoku adores your tummy. Whether you have defines abs, a flat stomach, a bit of chub or a big belly, he loves your tummy. When you're alone with him and the two of you are just relaxing together, you've gotten used to your man sliding his hand underneath your clothes before gently grabbing your stomach, rubbing it sweetly. When you cuddle together, falling asleep in each other's arms, even if you start the night on Rengoku's chest, his arm around you, it will somehow end up with the man's face in your tummy, snuggling into your warmth as he wraps his arms tightly around you. Much like Uzui and your ass, he loves to kiss, bite and mark up your stomach, leaving traces of him behind. On himself he likes his arms. Muscular, defined, strong- he's caught you looking at his arms more than once and even more so when the two of you have sex, your eyes trailing up the veins popping out his skin. His arms are strong enough to vanquish the toughest of demons while also being loving enough to hold you, hugging you tightly against him in a loving embrace as you cuddle, not letting go of you even when asleep.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Both of your men cum like a faucet. Big, fat balls constantly pumping out rope after rope of cum, filling your womb up so much it seeps out. Most of the time, its hot. A few times, it's a bit of a nuisance. Like how after a quickie you don't have time to clean yourself up before you immediately need to leave on a mission so you have to try your best to not let their cum seep out of you and stain your clothes.

Or how your sheets need to be washed after every other session as it is a mess of your juices and their cum. Or if they ever choose to cum on your face in the middle of your fuck sessions you need to take a break and clean it off since there's so much of it and you can't possibly continue like that. Or when one of them cums down your throat and you try your absolute hardest to drink it down but some days it's just too much and you give up, pulling away to cough and collect yourself as the remaining cum splashes on your body- or even - on your uniform which cause quite the predicament for you.

The men would laugh as you complained about these problems but, they were sweet and considerate and tried to make things less inconvenient for you whenever they could. Like how both of them have spare uniforms in your size at their respective houses if you ever need a quick change. Or that one time Rengoku immediately got on his knees and ate his cum out of you in record speed, giving you a nice orgasm in the process, before you had to leave for a mission. Or whenever Uzui plans on making you squirt he'd lay a plastic sheet over the bed to prevent the mattress from getting dirty. They still loved to fill up your womb and your mouth and would forever be addicted to cumming on your body- but atleast they made an effort to make things more comfortable for you and it's the thought that counts.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Rengoku prides himself in being a gentleman. He has traditional values i.e. he wants to be a husband you can rely on, who will provide for you and protect you, who will treat you like the Goddess you are and who will never, ever, hurt you in any way.

But there is a dark part of him that really wants to spank your ass. And not just a playful spank he might do on occasion- he means bending you over and letting you have it.

It shocks him sometimes. All he wants to do is shower you with love, praise, affection and orgasms. He likes being rough with you, both of you enjoying the feeling but the idea of inflicting actual pain on you makes his heart drop to his stomach- but it makes his cock throb. A part of him wants to bend you over his knee, rip off your uniform to expose that pretty ass before raising his hand and spanking you silly, bring his hand down over and over again to turn your beautiful skin to a vibrant shade of red. He wants to feel you squirm beneath his hold- hear you cry out as he smacks your poor butt- tears in your pretty eyes as you beg him to forgive you for whatever naughty thing you did that week. He almost came in his pants when he saw Uzui spank you once, his comrade having no issues bending you over a table and letting you ass have it, growling some of the most nasty, degrading things to you while you sobbed underneath him, words that Rengoku would never say but- but a part of him really wanted to. If you eventually have a talk with Rengoku about how you want him to be more dominating- that you'd like him to spank you and punish you- that it's okay for him to explore this side of him with you- it's over for the both of you.

Uzui will eventually introduce you to his wives of course and while a huge part of him is possessive of you- not wanting anyone but himself and Rengoku to see how delightfully adorable and sexy you are behind closed doors- a small part of him gets turned on by the idea of you and his wives in bed together. I mean, if and when he makes you his wife, you'll have to get along with Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru anyway and what better way to bond that to have your cute, submissive body under the control of three, beautiful women? His cock grows hard at the picture of you with his wives- but his brain feels irritated as he doesn't want to share you with more people- speaking of which, Rengoku might not agree to sharing you with his wives, his opinion is important as well- plus if an orgy like situation breaks out then Uzui wouldn't want Rengoku to see his three wives naked but not having him present would also be unfair-

Ah well- he'll figure things out when the time comes.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Rengoku had one lover before you and it was a relationship that lasted awhile. They had to split ways as they were no longer as happy together as they once were but he now considers that a blessing, despite how sad the breakup made him, as it meant he could freely fall in love with you. Being the second person he's ever been with, Rengoku had to learn a few tricks during his time with you. He always had good stamina and an even better cock but as he only had experience with one other person, it took him a few tries before he really got to understand your body and what you liked and especially, which spots on and inside you got the best reaction and made your pussy gush. He wouldn't admit it but he learnt a lot from watching Uzui fuck you, his companion figuring things out much quicker than he did, and adopted some techniques to make your sex life a lot more enjoyable for the both of you. He isn't a man with a fragile ego, always willing and even eager to hear your thoughts on how he can better please you, and making sure he acts on your remarks next time.

Uzui- I mean come on- the man has three wives and has enough experience in the bedroom than a room full of men combined. He is well versed in the act of lovemaking and knows very well that everyone's body is different and that there are a few tricks to easily figuring out what works for whom. It barely took him a few seconds to find you g-spot when he first fingered you, curling his digits inside you just right and snickering into your skin when he heard your delicious welp and felt you tighten around him, quickly realizing that you were a sensitive little thing and he couldn't wait to play with you. It gave him quite the ego boost when he realized Rengoku was studying his techniques, the flame pillar not as subtle as he hopes he was, as Uzui brought orgasm after orgasm out of your pretty, subby body.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Rengoku's favorite position is the mating press <3 the man loves folding you in half, his biceps bulging as he presses the back of your knees against your chest, cock ramming into your cunt vigorously. He loves everything about it: He has a view of your pretty face, cheeks flushed, lips kissed red and eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits all the perfect spots. Your tits look delectable in that position, squished between your legs, making them look more plump and delicious. It's also a comfortable position to give your sweet ass a spank or two if he so desires. But of course, best of all, it's a great position to drive his cock deep, deep inside you to fill your womb with his cum~

Uzui's favorite is prone bone. With his size kink- loving how huge he is compared to you- he finds it so hot when he gets you to lie flat on the bed with him lying flat on top of you, cock fucking deep into your pussy. With your height difference, your face gets buried into the mattress by his chest, the man literally laughing above you, your head underneath his chin. You're a strong woman and he knows you can take it, but he needs to remind himself to be careful to not crush you even as your perfect velvet pussy milks his cock so wonderfully. He loves having you under his mercy and what better way to do that than by pushing you down with his hulking body? You'd never admit it, but Uzui knows you also get off on the size kink, addicted to his muscular body taking you in every which way.

When they both fuck you simultaneously, their favorite position is to spit roast you, one man down your throat while the other is fucking your pussy. Whether it's throat fucking you in an attempt to cum in your mouth or to simply get cock-warmed while they wait for the other man to finish fucking your pussy- your mouth is just as addicting as your cunt, your jaw always sore by the end of the night from sucking cocks. They have been training your ass slowly to one day take their dicks- gradually increasing the stretch night by night. First it's a finger- then two- then three- then a plug- then a plug they make you wear the whole day and on and on and on. Eventually, when you get to a point where you can take both their cocks at once, one in your pussy and the other in your ass, no doubt, that will become their new favorite position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It's a mix of both but Rengoku is definitely the more serious type. He likes to give you his full, undivided attention and only focus on making love and fucking your brains out. And with his desire to put a baby in you, it makes for a lot of passionate fucking with little room to goof around.

Uzui is a bit less serious, although not one you'd call humorous. He does finds humor in the sex and will sometimes laugh when he makes you cry on his cock, or your expression when your eyes roll to the back of your head when you try to deep throat him or the way you babble and plead, all cock drunk and fucked out when he pulls another orgasm out of you. He just enjoys sex and depending on his mood, he'll either be really into it or he'll put his hands behind his head and relax, challenging you to take the lead once in awhile.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Small Ways To Look More Polished (Essential Style & Beauty Tips)

Some simple fashion & beauty tips to help you look more put together to turn heads and feel your best daily. Hope this helps xx

Style:

Always steam, lint roll, and snip any threads from your clothing before heading out the door

Ensure your top, pants/skirt, and outerwear proportions flatter your body shape. Choose cuts, hemlines, and strategically tuck or button (or unbutton) each garment to create lines that flatter your figure

Be mindful of how your pant/skirt/dress hemline aligns with the shaft of your footwear. You don't want any bunching or awkward gaps

Learn which colors are the most flattering on your skin tone (and which shades wash you out)

Study your body shape and the silhouettes that best streamline/elongate your frame

Find the right balance of textures/fabric weight (too many "heavy" fabrics like faux fur, quilting or puffer-style items when styled together can look bulky if not styled carefully)

Invest in a capsule wardrobe and neutral basics made in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, cashmere, silk, heavyweight denim, merino wool, etc.)

If an item does not look quite right on your body, tailor it or toss (donate) it out

Make sure all of the hardware matches with all of the jewelry, handbag, watch, cuff or button details, and footwear you choose for any given outfit

Maintain your accessories and footwear. Ensure they're no creases or scuff marks before heading out the door

Beauty:

Always keep your eyebrows well-shaped, brushed, filled in, and regularly tweezed

Tweeze and/or dermaplane your face as needed

Prioritize skincare/SPF for flawless skin

Ensure your foundation/concealer/brow products are all a perfect color match and fully blended into your skin

Use concealer to outline your brows and lip shape for greater definition

Strategically apply bronzer/contour, highlighter, and blush to your face to flatter your natural hollows, and prominent features (top of cheekbones, the tip of the nose, right under the brow), and use a light wash of color where your face would be naturally flushed

Find a flattering lip shade that suits your skin tone and doesn't make your teeth look yellow/dull

Embrace healthy hair habits (condition generously, use a wide-toothed comb and a specialty hair towel on wet hair, use a heat protectant and a round brush for blowouts/styling and satin or silk hair ties/pillowcases, get regular trims)

Use dryer sheets to minimize hair frizz and water or Vaseline to slick back fly-aways

Exfoliate and moisturize religiously (dry brush or sugar scrub with lotions including ingredients like hyaluronic acid or glycerin, depending on your skin type)

Use cuticle oil around your nails & apply hand cream/lip balm daily (or substitute with Vaseline for any of the three)

Maintain a diligent nail routine (consistent nail shape, classic pink, nude, red, or vampy polish color, and a high-quality top coat)

[simp-ly-writes]

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spy's (pt.2)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: The boys get suited up and training begins but as fate would have it, Whitby is keen on keeping your attention or rather making you gain more grey hairs as a mission goes south. Now having to take the task force out of training early, you can only help that under your guidance- they all make it back out alive.

Warnings: light swearing and teasing. A/N: hope you guys enjoy this next part! Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Your design team and weapons master come through the door moments later, each coming up to press a kiss against your cheek in greeting as you do your best to not go pink with the jealous displays your team is already portraying to the new recruits. Pulling Head Tailor Jason down by his tie, you hiss in his ear, “do NOT mess this up for me, please” you add sweetly at the end before letting him go and displaying your smile once more for the crowd. 

A series of assistants soon come from the secret back entrance, large on-wheel displays of shoes, watches and premade suits waiting to be tailored sit in wait as Jason nods twice, shuffling his tie from your outburst as he clears his throat, all eyes moving to cast upon his next words. “Afternoon recruits. I am the head tailor, Mr. Jason Carlisle. My associate Doctor Charlotte Derby who serves as our weapons master alongside my assistants Thomas and Evan will be serving you today.”

“And with that!” you start to say just as Jason raises an eyebrow, a missed call from Whitby being pinged to your phone takes your priority, “I will have to make my departure early for today, apologies- truly but you are in good hands I assure you. Laswell I expect a report in my inbox by the end of the day, thank you all.” Removing your fake earrings for your communications headset left in your briefcase set upon the desk. You shake each task force members hand with a firm grip before kissing Kate's cheek goodbye as you race back to your desk. 

--

Johnny leans towards Kyle who watches you leave, leather shoes ticking against the marble floors as the elevator chimes and you are out of sight. “Where do you think they are headed?” Kyle merely shrugs in response, curious as well but holds any further thoughts as Mr. Carlisle has them all stand in a row as his assistants measure their proportions, check their eye colours and hold up various fabrics for them to feel. 

Their hands work like a well oil machine as Jason camly states orders while moving up and down the line, not looking a singular man in the eye as he pinpoints miniscule details and chooses accessories best suited for the upcoming training season with the new gear. 

Coming to stand in front of “Ghost” as Jason had been told in the notes, he had a special request to keep some form of mask. “Ghost is it?” Jason asks, eyeing the man's response- only to receive a singular nod. “About the mask dear, we have many options some more subtle than others but your comfort in the field is my sole priority under this position.” Jason snaps his fingers as Thomas comes running up, a box in hand that houses various forms of technology sat in velvet. “We can graft a digital face to cover your own, no one would be able to see your true identity unless you allowed them to or… if you like the…” his hand waves over the skull and bones patterns found throughout the man's combat attire. “Agent of death composition, we can keep the balaclava but place a more matte design for on-field missions. Now I must state that the second option might limit your position and the missions you will be assigned to but that is up to you to decide, sir.”

Ghost looks towards John who is begging man-handled by Evan at the end of the line, various fabrics thrown over his shoulder as they complain about accentuating his features the right amount. Kyle is tensing beyond relief as the Doctor shows the various weapons hidden throughout his attire, shivering in realization of how he almost impaled himself when a knife appeared from his wrist watch. Johnny was bright eyed, practically jumping around in his new suit, punching a mannequin in the corner- amazed how the design allowed him flexibility while being bulletproof. “I’m keeping the mask,” Simon states in a monotone towards the Tailor. Jason claps his hands together, murmuring a “good choice, sir,” before dressing him in a black suit with silver detailings. 

Taking a step back, hours had passed before Jason was happy with each man's look as Laswell with a thoughtful smile across her features, hands drifting over the fabric of her own suit as she went through a similar experience all those years ago. Doctor Charlotte Derby addressed the room after receiving confirmation from the tailor and the group followed her out towards the training rooms. White marble soon transitioned to modern soundproof walls and black rubber floors that housed various maps upon them. 

Walking past gym after gym, the boys were aghast to seeing the brutal training happening in each room- it looked like torture. From rehearsed waterboarding survival classes, crafting found-object masks to survive gas filled rooms or water-filled ones. It was nightmarish at times yet each agent held a proper smile of confidence as they navigated through each issue. 

'`Will we be attempting the same, Doctor?’ John asks, trying to hide his slight concern for his task force as he looks towards Laswell for guidance. She offers him only a blank face, her own memories resurfacing. Even though she never had to go through the training, she bore witness to you going though each trial in order to gain the title you hold today. Kate remembers your screams, your broken-noses and blue-skin. But she would trust you more than anyone she ever would know to save her no matter the situation. 

Charlotte looks back over her shoulder, only shrugging as she continues to walk and swipes her card to reveal you, still taking through your headset as you worked your way through three junior agents, burning them to the floor in seconds as they tapped for air. Wiping your forehead with some nearby towels, you smile towards the group just as Whitby whines for your attention to his mission once more. 

“Whitby darling, I know you enjoy hearing my voice whispering in your ear but I am not your handler for this mission… yes, yes-I understand mr. But-nothing. Alright Whitby, I am hanging up now, kisses! Yes I am, grow a pair-” you end up growling at the end before ripping your headset off and standing beside the Doctor. 

“You really have to reel that man of yours back in,” Charlotte states while looking over her nails, throwing a water bottle towards the rookies still catching their breaths on the mats as she hands you your gun back. Casting her a tight smile, “a conversation to be held later, apologies again,” you address the group, “I have a few agents out on the field currently that need my attention every now and then, you all will understand in time,” you charismatically chuckle after before stripping off your suit jacket, laying it flat across a steel table as you roll your sleeves up to your elbows. 

The task force seemingly in a daze for your slight change in appearance has Charlotte clearing her throat and rolling her eyes, “you better not start those eyes,” she begins while pressing a pair of safely glasses to her face, handing each member a pair of their own before signalling the rookies to make their way back to training. “Have another four members to compete with for her attention, don’t want any in team fighting when you are here trying to steal them away in more ways than one.”

“Charlotte,” you criticize with a scoff before loading your gun, shivering with a smile to the satisfying click, “you all look handsome in your new suits, Jason did well as usual.” They each nod in conformation, Price finds himself in navy blue with neutral brown tones of shoes and a belt. Simon of course wears all black as Kyle wears a maroon ensemble. Johnny sports lovely charcoal grey pieces that have you making a mental check note to request another suit in a similar colour-way. “Now, Charlotte and I will continue to show you the various… safety features implemented into your new uniforms.” 

Clicking your shoes together, a blade extends from the toe just as you repeat the actions to hide the blade once more as you comment, “Poison tipped blade in there, one good lick and anyone would be seeing the pearly gates.” The men copy your actions as the all take an extra wide step away from one another. “Of course our ties as well,” your hand drifts up your chest and towards the knot, “great for choking out an attacker,” you wink at Laswell while saying this as she chokes, whispering about her wife as you throw your head back laughing as she soon does the same. 

Walking back over to your suit jacket, you feel around for your fountain pen inside before walking down the line, presenting them with the object for them to hold. Taking the pen back out of Simon's gloved hands you click it thrice in quick succession that extends a small pill at the top. “In case of emergency, this will kill you as well,” you add in a sweet, sarcastic tone. “But I will do my best to make sure it never comes down to that,” you add once seeing the concerned faces looking at you and Charlotte. 

“Now,” you smirk, turning your shoulder slightly before whipping your arm around, a blade emerging from between the fabrics of your suit as its flies in between Johnny and Kyle's head, their shoulders tensing, eyes wincing before letting out a breath of relief. “You really think I would try and kill you guys off that quickly?” you tease, receiving no response as you click your tongue, skating your head as Charlotte begins to go over the various guns they will have on their person depending on the mission. 

Picking up your custom engraved glock that your first handler gave to you upon promotion, you traced your fingers over the rides before taking aim at one of the targets at the back of the room. Each shot landing at the centre of the head, between the eyes as you flicked back on the safety and placed the barrel on the back of your waistband. A series of small claps go around the room as you turn to bow just as Charlotte hands each of them a weapon of their own. You both stand at the back, taking notes alongside Laswell to their techniques, strengths and weaknesses. 

Your phone rings as you curse out, ‘What Whitby?!” you cry out, they merely clear their throat before answering your question as you look towards the ceiling, patience wearing thin, “I am currently being shot at Handler! I need some assistance pronto~” he sing songs out as you look towards the line of men who have their backs still turned to you. “Give me 15 minutes,” is all your state before starting up a new call with Handler Jacobs, “Okay Jay, what fucking game are you playing at- get a hold of your agents before I get a hold of you- is that clear?” you state with utmost vice, your words like blades in pleasure in hearing him wince at your tone. 

“Of course, Handler D… I would not want to become part of your name's history,” he replies, shuffling of various papers easily heard from the otherside as they grip their desk in a panic, Samantha shouting from down the hall as an agent comes running into the headquarters, clearly injured and lacking the presence of another certain agent. 

“Fantastic.” You end the call soon afterwards, not wanting to hear another word as you put your hand up and Charlotte signals for everyone to unload their gun and set them upon the table to be cleaned. “It appears that you will be testing out everything you learned sooner than I expected. Do not disappoint me in making this decision.” 

“Yes, Handler” is sung throughout the space as you nod your head in approval before they trail behind you and towards your office where Jacobs anxiously awaits your presence. Palms sweating as they understand the hole they have dug themselves into. “I don’t wish to see your face Jacobs-” you state as they rush out the room, tail in between their legs as Samantha soon follows, not wishing to witness your wrath. 

Handing each task force member a small chip to set in their ear. You test communications before using your desk phone to request a vehicle at the back of the store. The Task force looks between one another, nervous for your next move. Pulling out a drawer from your desk, a series of labelled envelopes meet their eyes as you pull out four and press them gently into each of their pockets. “Inside these packages are any unique identifications that may be requested on the designated location, arrival time is set for 30 minutes from now where you will be meeting up with Agent Whitby, top of the division and you will respect each other. I will hear nothing from either side and on that note, you are all to find and destroy the fake artifacts pictured inside the envelope. I will be live on communications alongside Handler Jacobs if you have any questions, conversions or need for immediate evac. If communications do go down, Whitby will be there to assist your team as he is being briefed currently- is that clear?”

Laswell nods her head for the group who are seemingly entranced by your sudden calmness as you sip the fresh tea at your desk, making yet another mental note to thank Samantha when this mission was over for the drink. Clapping your hands to your knees, Charlotte comes running in, keys in hand as she states the car and model they are to drive. Sending Laswell a smirk in reassurance, you all watch as they make their way back upstairs for the festivities to start. 

Just as John is last to leave the room, you call out, halting him in his steps, “and do insure John-darling, that all equipment used today is back unscuffed.” He sends you a thumbs up before jogging back down the hall to catch up as you fall back into your chair and press your finger to the scanner. The room soon closes into security measures as a table emerges at the centre of the room, casting a 3D projection of the building and street they would be infiltrating. 

Your fingertip casts over the top of Whitby's head, you watch as he moves up and down the halls with elegance. Shoving suits of armour into unsuspecting guards heads while silencing their screams by kicking their faces into the plush rugs below. “And so the fun begins…”

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 27

Part 26

For as long as King Edward had reigned over this land, no one had known him to take a lover, or even show any interest in anyone. Some time ago, a council had been adamant about him officially choosing someone to rule by his side and procuring an heir. They had been shut down and in time, their posts had been given to newer members, and that old watch had died out. King Edward had seen no need for such things. His life was long lived and he still had many years yet.

There had been no need to pick someone simply for the purpose of securing a royal line. It was him and only him.

And then some prince came along and changed everything. 

-----------------------

Robin’s leg swung off the bed while waiting for Steve. With a huff, he finally walked out of the bathroom. With a groan, she stood up. 

“Finally. Let’s go.”

“Hey, perfection takes time”, Steve said as they left his room.

Robin gestured at his entire body. “And you call this perfection?”

“Rude”, Steve said, starting to mess with his hair again. “It’s not like I have much to work with in there.”

“What are you talking about? Eddie gave you a whole hair dresser’s kit and yet you’re still not satisfied? Spoiled prince indeed”, Robin teased, no heed given to whom might overhear.

“Yes, well, brushes and oils can only do so much when I can’t even set them up properly”, Steve said, giving up on getting his hair just right. “What I truly require is a vanity.”

“Oh, but of course”, Robin rolled her eyes. It was so laughable to her that he could lament over such a thing when it was obvious how smitten Eddie was with him already. It was such a laugh that she shared it with Eddie one evening after going over resource allocations for the arts.

“A vanity. You’d think it was life’s greatest treasure the way he talked about it”, she snorted over a glass of chilled wine. 

“A vanity…”, Eddie trailed off, easily falling into a vision of Steve sitting before one, his beauty aids all arranged just so, taking his time to make himself even more radiant than he already was. He thought about the room Steve was in right now, stuck on one end of the castle, far from the other rooms and barren except for the necessities. 

It certainly wasn’t a place for someone being pursued by the king.

“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”, Robin said.

“You should know you’ll have my full attention whenever the little prince is concerned. Now tell me more about his vanity-less woes.”

Courtships could go any sort of way. It all depended on the pursuant and their target. But anyone who meant to truly woo their intended listened to both them and those around them to figure out what the most impactful gifts would be. Steve knew that Eddie was this sort after the last gift. He had never said directly what he wanted and yet it appeared.

So he had a feeling a vanity was in his near future. Or at the very least a very good mirror. Something akin to that.

When Eddie approached during one of Lucas’ lesson, Steve didn’t care how spoiled he might appear, stopping in the middle and running right over to him.

“Am I right to assume you have something for me?”, he asked twirling his sword before sheathing it.

“Perhaps, sweetling. But it is one I have to show before I give it to you”, Eddie said.

And didn’t that intrigue Steve. “You have to show it first?”

Eddie nodded, then looked to Lucas. “Do you mind if I steal your instructor away?”

“Go for it”, Lucas permitted.

“You still have ten minutes left”, Steve said. “That’s just enough time for three laps around the training ring and some squats.”

With that, he left his sword belt on a table and walked arm in arm with Eddie. Steve didn’t know why this alone felt so intimate. Eddie had literally caught him in more revealing states. And yet this was different, this touch was different. He wanted to put his head against Eddie’s shoulder and let him lead wherever he wanted.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me somewhere without a chaperone.”

“Now what sort of trouble could we get into in a hallway?”, Eddie asked.

“In my experience, plenty”, Steve lowered his voice to tease and was both surprised and delighted at the redness that bloomed on Eddie’s cheeks. “Wait, have you never-”

“And here we are!”, Eddie shouted when they reached a door. 

A nice door, but a door all the same. Steve wondered what could be behind it and how it related to whatever Eddie was giving him. But then Eddie opened the door and it was a bedroom. A guest room that looked unused with how everything was perfectly in place. As if it had all been arranged in preparation for a new resident. It was a stark cry from the room he was in right now. 

That room was livable, but small. This room had enough space for a lavish bed, a writing desk, a floor to ceiling window that opened up to a small balcony. Across the bed was a door that led to a bathroom, surely nicer than the one he currently had, but that was when Steve saw it. He walked in to get a closer look.

A vanity, clear, ready to be covered in all he might need. He sat down in the chair before it, taking in his reflection in the smooth glass. Not a mirror covered in hard streaks and old dust that made it nearly impossible to make out much of anything. It reminded him of the one he had back home. How he’d sit in front of one, anticipating a night of dancing in the ballroom or a secret tryst with whatever lover he had at the time.

Eddie came up from behind and smiled. “Do you like it?”

“Is it really mine?”, Steve asked, looking up at him.

“All yours. And that is not the only perk it comes with.”

“Oh?”

Eddie cleared his throat and took a step back. “It just so happens that this prime real estate is just down the hall from my own rooms.”

“How generous of you”, Steve said, coming to stand up and move closer to Eddie. They were truly alone now, not in the hallway anymore. And he couldn’t miss the insinuation that came from knowing the king would be sleeping just a few doors down. “It has occurred to me that I have yet to give you a gift of my own.”

His eyes flicked to Eddie’s lips as he moved impossibly closer, their bodies chest to chest. His lips were just an inch away-

“Ew! Gross!”, Mike screeched when he came into the room.

Eddie jumped back, nearly tripping over his own feet but managing to catch himself. “Blazes Wheeler! Did no one ever teach you to knock!?”

“The door was open!”, Mike shot back. “I just came to tell you guys lunch was ready. Goddamn!” Mike left before his eyes could be defiled any more than they already were.

Eddie called out before he got too far. “Tell the kitchens to prepare a picnic for me!” Then he turned back to Steve. “If you would be so kind to accompany me.” He offered his arm, feeling warm when Steve linked up with him.

“I would love to.”

Part 28

a bit more sweetness before the bitter returns

Taglist CLOSED

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@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[edges-of-night]

Hello! With your comeback I had a grand time re-reading all your past imagines :> they're marvelous! Hope you don't mind me requesting - I had an idea of lotr characters with reader that is in adoration, love, and interest with their hair (and also them! but that's just predictable isn't it, how can you not love them). Even if it's dirty, reader would sometimes help take care of it, and her hands would just go to them on their own. Reader would also love to play with them, and marvel at texture, colour, lenght when they're clean. I had a few characters in mind (Eomer, Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwena, our 4 lovely hobbits) but I do know that's a lot of them. I am also happy with you choosing only few characters of your taste, or deciding on a completely different one! Quite honestly I'm happy about reading whatever you wish to write in this theme. Pretty please, but also no pressure! And have a great day/night, whenever you end up reading it :>

Thank you very much for your kind words! I know I said the same about the last request I posted, but hair prompts are an absolute weakness of mine haha! I hope you’ll enjoy what I’ve written for your characters, nonnie ♡

(so many glorious L'Oréal style gifs to choose from! ↓)

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･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Rangers are not among the fairest creatures of Middle Earth, but you couldn’t care less – you are in love with Aragorn’s hair. When you’ve first voiced the thought, he was irritated, then amused. Now he softens whenever you go on and on about how beautifully his hair frames his face, how gorgeous he looks when it falls into his face as he’s lost in thought, humming some ancient Elven melody to himself. He may have pondered cutting it short before, but the thought is now discarded.

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･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

You often find yourself playing with Arwen’s hair whenever you’re close. You have spoken to her about it before, but thankfully Arwen has no problem with you touching her legendary dark and smooth hair. In fact, she likes the intimacy and finds your fascination with it cute. Though she has always loved her long strands herself, she is now in a good mood to try out elaborate, beautiful new hairstyles before your visits to Rivendell to surprise you – it’s like a secret language the two of you are sharing.

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･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir has never given his hair much thought; it needed to be practical and nothing more. Imagine his surprise when you offer to help him wash it after a long day of work, sweat, and dirt! He has much to learn in terms of hair care. But even if he was a little hesitant in the beginning, he enjoys your joint baths afterwards far too much! And you braiding his hair is just too romantic to miss. I figure Boromir would also be the kind of person to brag about how much you love his hair – perhaps not with the Elves, but all the more so with fellow Humans!

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･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

Seeing Éomer at the royal banquet in Edoras has you starstruck: The usually so haggard and modest horse lord wears his hair down in gorgeous dark blond curls, accentuated by golden strands framing the face you have come to love already. Those strands are usually pinned out of his face for practicality during riding and fighting, but now you cannot help but stare – which at first might irritate him. He may not understand your love for his hair right away, but he cannot deny the warmth your compliments spread in his chest and would eventually find it romantic to take care of each other’s hair.

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･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

You were enamoured with Faramir’s hair the moment you first saw him. His gorgeous waves make him look even dreamier than his kind eyes already do. When you first reach into his hair during a kiss, you blush and apologise – but Faramir loves the attention you give his waves and urges you to not hold back (in fact, he enjoys having his hair pulled). He would ask you about your opinions on which oils and waters to use in it and is in Seventh Heaven whenever you play with it during cuddles ♡

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･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Frodo always makes sure his brown Hobbit curls look orderly and enjoys fancy oils, waters, and scents. He is genuinely happy about the presents you gift him to use in his hair. Your love for his curls doesn’t escape his attention, far from it. So, when your hands finally gravitate toward them as you read with Frodo, lost in thought and the legendary stories of your books, all he does is chuckle, letting you play with them until you self-consciously draw away.

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･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Since he is a bit vain in general, Merry is very protective of his hair. That said, he does have trouble taking care of it sometimes. Luckily you’re here to help! You help him wash it and compliment the colour and texture, which he delights him. Perhaps he would serve you a trick by casually telling you he would cut it short today – but you know better: This Hobbit loves both his hair and your fascination with it far too much for that!

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･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin wastes no thought on his hair: It gets stuck in branches, twisted in petty fights, and spilled by beer in the Green Dragon. Since he knows are you are “a hair expert”, he one day arrives at your door with a bunch of thistles stuck in his curls. Not only does he appreciate how well you take care of his hair, he loves how much you like it, too. He would kick his feet anytime you played with his curls and especially loves you ruffling them!

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･ﾟ✧ Sam.

When you tell him how much you like his hair, Sam initially thinks you’re joking. After all, both the hair on his head and on his feet is usually dirty and sweaty from gardening. And besides, who has the time for hair care anyway? But Sam soon realises you’re serious, especially after you stroke and caress his blond curls when you’re lying in his arms. You love how they fall into his green eyes when he looks at you all sweet ♡

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･ﾟ✧ Bonus: Galadriel.

Galadriel’s long, smooth, golden hair is the stuff of legends, which is why you were so surprised to hear you have been appointed her maid to take care of it. And Elves are so particular about hair, too! It is among your sacred duties to untie your Lady’s braids and brush her hair every night, shining in the lights of her beautiful Elvish rooms in Lórien. Sometimes, she would start humming and smiling and telling you how much she adored you taking care of her like this. Needless to say, she would eventually gift you a strand of her fabled hair ♡