#clear lash glue

[outlashca]

How To Choose Best Sensitive Lash Adhesive

When choosing a sensitive lash adhesive, make sure to research the ingredients first. This type of glue contains a lower amount of ethyl cyanoacrylate than traditional glues. As a result, it has a weaker adhesion. In addition, sensitive glue is more expensive. It is best to buy only what you need for a certain number of applications. This way, you’ll avoid overspending.

A good sensitive lash adhesive should be in the $35 to $55 range. You’ll want to pick one that has a high quality, reliable brand. However, you can buy a less expensive brand if you’re on a budget. You can use a test patch before using sensitive glue to make sure that it won’t affect your eyes.

A sensitive adhesive has less cyanoacrylate than conventional glue, so it dries more slowly. However, it also exposes your client to fumes for a longer period of time. This will make your application time longer and increase the risk of stickies. So, if you suspect an allergy to a sensitive glue, try using a clear adhesive instead.

A sensitive eyelash extensions supplies glue has an extra light formula, which reduces the chance of irritation, allergic reactions, and fumes. It is also latex-free, which is another important consideration. You should never apply sensitive glue to individual lashes, cluster lashes, or strip lashes. The clear lash glue should also be applied to the skin when the eye area is moist.

A sensitive lash extension glue has a bond time of 1.5 to three weeks. It’s best to perform a patch test before application, especially if your client is allergic to eyelash glue. The bond time will depend on how well you follow your client’s aftercare. A sensitive glue will be less effective the longer you leave it on the eye.

It’s best to use a medical-grade adhesive, as this is the best way to ensure that the lashes adhere to the eye. The right adhesive ensures a strong bond and great retention. When choosing a sensitive lash adhesive, be sure to read the ingredient list. This will help you narrow down your search and find the perfect glue.

[best-cosmetics123]

Eye Lashes Gum in Pakistan:

Eye Lashes Gum comes to makeup products, there are always new and innovative ideas coming up. One of the latest products to hit the market is the Eye Lashes Gum. This product has quickly become a must-have for many makeup enthusiasts. In this article, we will discuss what Lashes Gum is, how it works, and why it is a game-changer in the beauty industry.

What is Eye Lashes Gum?

Eye Lashes Gum is a new type of adhesive for false eyelashes. Unlike traditional lash glue, which is usually clear and comes in a small tube, Lashes Gum comes in a small container that resembles a tube of lip gloss. The product is applied to the lashes using a small wand, and it dries down to a rubber-like texture that is incredibly durable.

How does Eye Lashes Gum work?

This Gum works by using a unique formula that is designed to stick to the lashes without causing any damage. The adhesive is made up of a mixture of natural and synthetic polymers that work together to create a strong bond between the lashes and the skin.

To use the Lashes Gum, you simply apply a small amount of the product to the base of your false lashes using the wand provided. Then, you wait a few seconds for the product to dry down to its rubber-like texture before applying the lashes to your lash line. The result is a secure and long-lasting hold that will keep your lashes in place all day.

Why is it a game-changer in the beauty industry?

Eye Gum is a game-changer in the cosmetic industry for several reasons. First and foremost, it offers a much more secure hold than traditional lash glue. Many people struggle with keeping their false lashes in place throughout the day, but with this gum, you can be sure that your lashes will stay put.

Additionally, The Lashes Gum is incredibly easy to use. The small container and wand make it easy to apply the product precisely where you need it, and the rubber-like texture ensures that you can adjust your lashes if needed without worrying about them falling off.

Finally, This Gum is gentle on the lashes and the skin. Unlike traditional lash glue, which can cause irritation and damage to both the lashes and the skin, Eye Lashes Gum is designed to be safe for all skin types. The natural and synthetic polymers in the formula are gentle enough to be used every day without causing any harm.

[thewertsearch]

Sneak attack! Fucking chainsaw sneak attack!!

Do it, Kanaya!

What the hell is wrong with you?

This goes beyond malevolence. Honestly, it just cleared stupidity. Sixty seconds ago, Eridan was fully committed to helping her with the Matriorb.

Did he even know what it was? Like, does he actually understand what he just did, or is he just lashing out randomly?

Either way, he's just sealed his fate. There's no way Kanaya's letting him leave this room alive.

...

You've made an enemy for life, Eridan.

No. Not Karkat.

Me.

Now, here’s the thing.

In recent conversations, Jade has alluded to a correspondence with a future version of Kanaya. This particular conversation occurred immediately before she died, so her future incarnation must therefore come back to life somehow.

...right? Unless her future self is a ghost, or communicating from the Dream Bubbles like Feferi, or...

No. No, she's coming back, and I'm sticking to that conclusion like glue. If I don't, I think I might actually scream.

Please let him teleport right in front of Vriska.

Wait, wasn’t Karkat in the room? What happened with him while all of this was going down?

Hah.

Yeah, that's about right.

[luveline]

I would LOVVEEE shy reader with Hotch. R being a techy desk person, works in the unit but not like IN the unit ygm ygm. Really clumsy and stuttery.. if that makes sense. Please and Thankyou you are the best 💕

ty for your request! cw suggestive (hotch likes ur thighs <3) fem!reader | 1k

"Oh, no," Hotch hears you muttering, your voice a hair's width from distress. "Why? Shit." 

He considers knocking, but he's a little concerned, slipping in through the ajar door into your small office. He grimaces every time he's in here, knowing that while your tiny working quarters are legal, they aren't nice. At least you have a window..

You're under your desk. Bent away from him, you have a triangle of naked skin on display where your blouse is coming untucked from your skirt. Your hands search slowly over the floor, a meticulous left to right that makes him think you've misplaced something small.

"L/N?" 

You jump up fast and crack your head against the desk. Hotch is startled into flinching himself, rushing forward to help you out and onto your feet. He slips his hands under your armpits and pulls you up gently, a familiar grimace falling into place. 

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely, "I didn't mean to scare you." 

"I didn't know you were there," you say, sounding very sorry considering it's all his fault. 

"Sit down." 

He encourages you into your desk chair. You've a hand over the back of your head, cradling your likely tender scalp, your eyes closed tightly. 

"Are you in pain?" 

"It's fine," you say. 

"Does it hurt?" 

His tone leaves no room for debate. You open your eyes like your lashes have been doused with glue and smile at him awkwardly. 

"Stings," you confess. 

"Can I?" he asks. 

You stare at him with your eyes widened. Hotch isn't stupid, he knows that he makes you nervous, and that his touching you is one of your worst nightmares. He knows why he makes you nervous, too, but he's kind as well as perceptive, so he pretends that he doesn't. 

"O-okay," you stammer, "sure." 

He frames the base of your head with one hand to encourage your head into the light. With the other, he parts your hair in search of a cut or bump. He can't see anything yet, but that doesn't mean a bruise won't develop, or a low level concussion. He indulges in some invisible unprofessionalism and strokes your hair down flat. 

"It looks alright. But it won't hurt for you to take it easy."  

You nod hurriedly and then wince. He tries not to give you a told-you-so look, though disapproving seeps into his frown lines anyway. You noticeably wither. Not his prerogative to upset you in anyway, Hotch tries to fix what he can. 

"What were you looking for?" 

"Oh! My SD card, it's uh- uh, it's one of those micro ones." 

You go to ease off of your chair and Hotch hums assertively. 

"No, sit. Please. I'll look for it." 

You swallow. You're so perturbed that Hotch feels intensely fond and immeasurably sorry for you. He isn't a spring chicken but he can kneel down on the floor next to your chair without any issue. He can tell why you struggled to find the card, it's cramped and dark beneath your desk, and it takes him half a minute to find it. The plastic is cold between his fingers. 

He sits up, and finds he's sitting at your feet, at your knees, eye level with your chest. You're clearly flushed at his position, looking anywhere but him, a tremor coursing down your chest all the way to your knees. Hotch is mature, he's clear-headed, but he can't not notice how your thighs look when they're trembling. 

He cannot be where he is. He tries to grab your chair and he's not thinking clearly and his hand lands half on your stocking-clad thigh. 

You choke on a breath. It's adorable and awful. Hotch keeps his expression neutral though he's feeling anything but, clambering onto his feet with less agility than he'd hoped to. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

He doesn't have to explain what for. 

"No, it's okay. Of course it is," you mumble. He can pretty much see the steam curling from your ears. 

He holds the SD card out to you. "Here." 

"Thank you, thanks. Um. What did you need? If you– needed anything." You're practically disintegrating. Hotch is feeling similarly.

"Uh–" Oh, he's drinking tonight. "I wanted to talk to you about our VICAP ease of access. You made such a difference when you implemented those changes last month, there's only a few more things I wanted to ask of you. After that I'll leave you alone, you have my word." 

You rush to grab your notepad. Despite your poor nerves, you jot down everything he asks of you diligently. You nod when what he asks sounds easy, and bite your lip when you're not sure. 

"One last thing. Look at me?"

You look up. He measures the size of your pupils. 

"Are you okay?" 

It takes some time for you to catch up with what he's asking, your fingers flexing instinctively toward your head, though your hand stays on the desk. "Yeah. I'm fine. I'm perfect." 

He has to agree. Clumsy and prone to embarrassment, you're a hard-worker with a sweet smile. And, he thinks guiltily, you have very nice thighs. 

"Come and find me if you start to feel dizzy," he says, half-joking, and gets the hell out of dodge. 

He can't get that angle of view out of his head. Looking up at you, your hands pressed to your sternum, your eyes blinking a tad too fast. Respectfully, he hopes he doesn't see you for the rest of the day. He doesn't think he'd survive it. 

[hotsingledragon]

jake and pet names <3

jake sully x na’vi reader

warnings: 18+ content, smut, pet names, he says mommy once,derogatory language, oral m! and f! receiving, p in v, sub!jake :D, fluffy and smutty

-jake loves to call you by english pet names, and though they sound foreign at first they start to grow on you! jake calls on you so affectionately, and he explains that these nicknames reflect his admiration and love for you :)

-when you wake up naturally as the morning sun filters through the leaves, you’re rested and warm with jake’s arm over your middle and his leg between yours. your heart thrums with your position, always does with jake. you turn in his arms to face him and he pulls you into him.

“g’mornin’, love” he would whisper in a groggy voice, half asleep and wrapping you closer. you would fall back to sleep in his arms almost instantly, lulled by the song birds in the trees.

-“hey, sweetheart” he would lilt as he approached you, fingertips smoothing across your back and settling at the small of your waist and he drops a kiss on your temple. “whatcha doin’, bug?” jake would ask softly while tucking his chin into your shoulder, arms holding you in a warm and strong embrace.

-jake uses these little pet names almost every time he calls on you, especially during spicy time!

-“that’s it, open that mouth for me, hon’, such a good girl” when you take his cock into your mouth, your lips stretching thin over his girth.

-“mmmh fuck you’re so pretty, keep your eyes on me, baby” jake tells you, looking up at you through his long lashes and shining eyes as he grinds his tongue into your clit.

-“taking me so well, pretty,” when jake’s opening you up. he’s holding every bit of himself together to let your tight walls adjust to his heavy cock.

-“you’re so dumb on my dick, you know it? can’t even talk, can ya’. you fucking slut,” he would clench his teeth while pounding into you from behind. he’d force you to arch with the grip he has in your hair, and you were lost in the sensation of his warm rough hands holding you so tightly. you let out a cry when he repeatedly hits the spongy part inside of you.

-“you’re just a little bitch in heat, aren’t you baby? fuckin’ right.” he growls with a bruising grip on your hips and putting all his strength into fucking you. he glues himself to your back, biting your earlobe and gritting “dumb little bitch.”

— —

-“are you okay, honey? was i too rough?” jake cradles you in his arms, hands smoothing over your hair and face, wiping the overstimulated tears from your eyes. jake looks so worried and guilt ridden as you hiccup trying to catch your breath. “shh you’re okay, angel, i’m sorry.” jake will hold you close, soothing your shaking with warm touches and sweet kisses and a million apologies.

-and on the occasion when jake just wants YOU to take care of HIM? “m-mommy, please, it hurts,” he would whine and pout and squirm. jake is shaking like a leaf, you’ve made him come three times already but he stays obedient, flat on his back and hands clenched at his sides

-and when you use those same nicknames on jake, telling him “shh it’s alright, baby, give me one more okay?” jake absolutely melts as the syllables roll off your accented tongue; he’s surprised he didn’t come right then. you continue to stoke his messy leaking cock, and he’s whining pathetically, trying to control the sporadic motion of his hips

-“you’ve been such a good boy, you can come now, okay honey? come for me, baby,” and he’s immediately thrown over the edge, whining pathetically as his cock jumps and spurts, the substance thin and clear after coming so many times already.

-and when he catches his breath as you clean him up, he’d reach for you, “come here, please mama, please,” he pleads with his big watery eyes. and when you’re close enough jake drags you into his chest, holding you tightly. jake relaxes as your hands run over his skin, and he plants a kiss to your shoulder.

-jake would gently drag your chin until you were looking into his eyes and would kiss you deeply, getting lost for a moment before breaking away to say “you’re amazing, thank you so much, sweetie,” then leaving a sweet kiss on your lips.

omg i love him!!!

[boobo13cambridge]

Sheila Ki Jawani | Kylian Mbappé

"I know you want it, but you're never gonna get it.

Tere haath kabhi na aani

(I will never come into your hands)

Maane na maane koi duniya yeh saari,

(Whether anyone believes it or not,)

Mere ishq ki hai deewani.

(This whole world is crazy behind me.)"

The music was blasting from the Bluetooth speaker that Kylian had got you for Valentine's Day after you had complained to him that your iPhone wasn't enough to jam to your favorite songs while getting ready.

Kylian, ever the attentive one, couldn't possibly not buy his bébé anything she asked for. Carefully applying the shade Limitless on your eyelids from your Huda Beauty palette, you were jamming to one of your favorite songs of all time while getting ready for your friend's birthday party. You were so happy that Kiara decided to make it Bollywood-themed because you wanted to wear the gold saree that your mother had gotten for you from her trip to India last month.

"Ab dil karta hai haule haule se,

(Now slowly my heart wants,)

Main toh khud ko gale lagaun.

(Me to embrace myself.)"

You continued shaking your hips in a sensual motion while you curled your lashes and applied a coat of mascara. To be honest, you were running a bit late and hoped Kylian wouldn't come home too soon so you could blame any tardiness on him. As a girl, you felt that being on time was overrated; no matter how much you prepared in advance, it didn't matter. What can you say? Beauty can't be hurried.

"Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya,

(I don't need anyone else,)

Main toh khud se pyar jataun.

(I'll express my love to myself.)"

This was your favorite part of the song. While waiting for the eyelash glue to dry, you struck a pose at every line.

"What's my name?

What's my name?

What's my name?

My name is Sheila, Sheila ki jawani.

(My name is Sheila, young Sheila.)

I'm too sexy for you,

Main tere haath na aani.

(I will never come into your hands.)

No no no no Shei-"

"Having fun, mon amour?" your husband's voice cut through the music as you stood there, your index finger shaking in front of the mirror with your expression stuck in a deer caught in the headlights motion.

Smirking, your husband stood there leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Kyky! What a surprise! I didn't know you were going to be home so early!" you blushed, trying to quickly put your lashes on, while wholly ignoring the fact that you were obviously late.

"Early, bébé? Really? T'es sérieuse?" he said, raising his eyebrows and walking behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "It's 8:00 pm, and we are supposed to leave by 8:15 pm."

"Honestly, Ky. When you really think about it, does it really matter? I mean, it's an Indian birthday party; no one's on time," you rambled on while applying your primer. "Besides, time is just a con-"

"Bébé,"

"-cept. According to Allen Bluedor, time is a result -"

"Bébé,"

"of humans interacting with each other -"

"BÉBÉ!"

"-and socialization processes," you trailed off as he spun you around in his arms and gave you a stern look that made you immediately shut up. Kylian looked positively over your antics, as his dark eyes peered into your soul. The stern press of his mouth made it clear that he was less than impressed with your incorrigible habit of not getting ready on time.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'avais dit la semaine passée quand on a failli être en retard pour la fête à ma mère?" he asked, his thumb tracing circles on your exposed hip bone. There was a predatory gleam in his eyes that had your pulse suddenly racing. A slight shiver went down your spine as you had a hard time looking into his eyes.

"Euh, que j'étais vraiment belle et que de toute façon on avait juste failli être en retard?" you said while fluttering your eyes at him. You knew you were in trouble when you felt his hands tighten around your hips, as he frowned and pursed his lips, almost surprised by your audacity.

"Et maintenant, tu mens, eh?" his growly voice sent a spark of heat into your lower belly as he slowly backed you into the counter. Feeling the edge digging into your back, you placed your hands on the planes of his chest, the soft fabric of his black kurta providing comfort despite the tension in the air.

His right hand, which was on your hip, slid up your body slowly, wrapping around your throat and giving it a light squeeze. Your breath hitched as you felt your panties dampening.

"I asked you a question, and I expect an honest answer, bébé."

"Okay, fine. You told me that if I were late one more time, you would bend me over your knees…"

"Don't get shy on me now, princesse. You've literally had my cock in your mouth."

"Oh my god, Ky. You're such a perv sometime."

"Answer me."

"You would bend me over your knees and spank my ass raw," you mumbled quickly.

"Unfortunately, mon amour, I don't have time to bend you over my knees but I'm sure this counter will do," he said while his left hand slid down your ass, giving it a possessive squeeze.

"Turn around, and bend over."

At this point, you were so turned on that you wanted him to do it, all previous traces of nervousness vanishing from your body as if it was never there in the first place. Gulping, you bit your lip, as you slowly turned around and bent over the cold countertop. you weren't wearing a bra underneath your silk robe, so your nipples were hard as they touched the cool surface.

You heard Kylian inhale sharply as he slowly lifted your flimsy robe, gradually exposing your derrière. You heard him curse as he caressed your soft flesh. A sharp smack on your ass had you whimpering as the sting left behind a film of ecstasy in your soul.

"You're going to count for me now, bébé," he said, his commanding voice slowly seducing you into submission.

"One…" The word barely left your lips when Kylian let out a snort, shaking his head not in amused disbelief at your antics. "T'es drôle. Celui-là ne compte pas."

Despite the dark lust clouding his deep brown eyes, a glint of mischief and a touch of affection shone through. You drove him absolutely mental but he loved every second of it.

"T'es méchant, tu sais," you retorted, a pout forming on your lips, challenging his authority with your audacity.

Smack.

"Deux," you said, your voice laced with defiance, determined to test his limits as the sting of his slap reverberated through you. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, the person staring back seemed almost like a stranger. A flush of red painted your cheekbones, a vivid testament to the intensity of the moment, while your teeth sank into your plump bottom lip.

"You're such a brat. I shouldn't let you cum for a week," he admonished, his tone firm as he caressed the bruised flesh.

"No! How could you even think of doing that?" You protested breathlessly, alarmed that he would even dare deny you your pleasure.

Just as he was about to retort, the sudden ring of your phone sliced through the charged atmosphere of the room, the beginning notes of Standing Next to You breaking the intimate bubble that you were both confined in.

"Who is it, Ky?" Your voice was curious, a slight edge of impatience cutting through as you tried to peek over his shoulder at the glowing phone screen.

"Oh putain, it's Kiara."

"Oh shit, she's going to kill us. We're so late." The words tumbled out of your mouth, a laugh hiding just beneath the surface, acknowledging that your best friend was about to tear you a new one.

"I wonder whose fault that is, mon amour," Kylian smirked, his gaze teasing and accusatory all at once.

"Ugh, get over it, Ky."

Smack.

"Cheeky brat." His words were a playful growl, the affectionate smack a punctuation to your ongoing banter. "C'mon, let me help you with your saree."

"Je t'aime, bébé." you said blowing a kiss in his direction, giving him a quick peck.

He just rolled his eyes at your antics, the gesture full of love and a resigned acceptance of your playful nature.

╚══════╝ A/N╚══════╝

Hi lovelies! I had this in the drafts and finally decided to post it! Yay 😁

I think I’m leaning towards writing short prompts because i have a hard time doing longer ones.

Anyways, I hope you guys like it 😊😊

[lynnbeth5172]

Why Can’t You Be Alive? (One shot)

Warning: Slightly dead dove and a bit more hurt than comfort <3 ⚽️

Shauna Shipman realized she was in love a bit too late, when her body was racked with sobs and she begged her dead best friend to wake up. Regretting even letting her freeze outside.

‘Please Jackie…I need you.’

Now she was in the meat shed, she had done a bit of her chores and hence went to the meat shed where the bear meat was. Journal in hand as she wrote and sketched, this time an antlered deer. As she looked up and looked at the propped up body of Jackie.

“Remember how we met?” She knew it looked like she was talking to a ghost but she didn’t care much, as she looked at the face of her frozen friend; trying to imagine her face. When she didn’t reply, Shauna did.

“Met in first grade, someone pushed you off the swings and I took you to the nurse. You asked if you can have my name and I said it.” Shauna yearned for those times, when they didn’t fight over boys but fought over stupid things like ‘Chocolate cookies are better than peanut cookies’ or arguing over who stole Shauna’s apple sauce.

Then boys came into the mix, then a boy named Jeff Sadecki came along. The boy who used to glue his lips together with a glue stick became Jackie’s crush and eventual boyfriend in freshman year, Shauna had a crush on him since sixth grade. Which was when he stopped glueing his mouth closed.

That was when her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a small thud, Jackie’s body was slumped over. Due to rigor mortis setting in; her body was very stiff, sighing and moving up, she fixed her dead friend’s position back to how it was. That was when she noticed her lips, Jackie always had pretty lips. Lips that were always covered in either lipgloss or lipstick, it reminded her of when she used to do Shauna’s makeup and when it came to lips…their faces were almost always dangerously close, as if they were going to kiss.

Shauna pressed her thumb to the lips of her friend, leaning in slightly more as her breath could be seen her almost frozen lashes. She chose to ignore, imagining Jackie alive and what she would say. It was fucked up she knew but…a part of her just wanted her.

She could almost hear Jackie’s voice, her face. Her smile turning into a grin as Shauna moved closer, her breath being seen in the freezing air.

“I know you wanna kiss me, Shauna…do it,” Shauna moved more closer, cupping Jackie’s cheek as she leaned in and kissed her. A warm feeling was there inside her, a feeling that wasn’t there whenever she kissed Jeff. She wanted so desperately to just continue kissing, she wished she had did this before Jackie died. She wished she had dated Jackie.

Her lips were cold and stiff but she still kissed her.

As she moved away slowly from Jackie’s face, she laughed. Almost more mocking than anything

“Poor little Shipman, you can’t have me. I’m long gone.”That was when reality finally broke in, Shauna over Jackie’s freezing face. Her eyes were closed, not open. Her face was neutral instead of her teasing grin; and she was quiet, not speaking.

Shauna’s heart dropped a bit, she kissed her dead friend…dead, not alive, not reciprocating feelings because she can’t.

Her lip trembled as she moved to where she sat, tears started to fall from her eyes as she tried wiping them.

She missed Jackie more than Jeff.

She’ll always miss Jackie more than Jeff, she’ll miss her over anything.

Ever since she had a crush she thought she loved Jeff, but…now she realized that she loved Jackie. But it was too late.

“Why can’t you be alive…” as tears fell from her face she became very clear of the answer. As the corpse still had its eyes closed.

‘Because I’m dead…you can’t have a dead person.’

::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: ::: :::

Short and sad, to all my Yellowjacket followers ❤️tbh I don’t know if I did well but I originally was sorta going for an Oliver and Felix thingy from Saltburn, with the obsession and all.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

"I feel lost without you." Jason Todd x F! Reader

Summary: Day One of my October Writing Challenge! The reader reflects on the first time she met Jason Todd and how much it hurts without him. But is he really gone? This story will have a part two later in the challenge.

Pairing: Jason Todd x F! Reader

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Teenage Jason Todd and Reader

Cross Posted on AO3

“My father used to take me here when I was a boy,” Bruce settles into the worn leather of the booth, the red starkly contrasting his all-black attire. His hand fingering a rip in the red leather, “and then Dick and I would come here after a tough night, it only seemed right to bring you here now.” Bruce raises his eyes to look at the fourteen-year-old before him, Jason giving him a warm smile back before gazing over the menu.

“What did he order?” Jason raises his eyes, “your dad. What would he have ordered?”

Bruce leans back with a small smile, “Well Mom would have wanted him to have the oatmeal with a cup of tea and fresh fruit on the side. But Dad would have ordered the cinnamon roll pancakes with a side of bacon and coffee.”

“Then that’s what I’m gonna order,” Jason closes his menu and sits up, “sounds delicious.”

“Hi there, have you decided what you’d like, I’ll be your server this evening,” you hold the pencil tightly in your hand, before looking up from your pad.

Jason stops fidgeting, his eyes widening as he takes in your uniform, the pale pink dress and white apron doing nothing to flatter under the fluorescents but from the look on his face, he’s seen an angel. You can feel the heat spread across your face but quickly look down at your pad, “if you need more time I can come back.”

“No,” the boy shouts, “please don’t go.” Your head snaps up to look at him, greenish blue eyes greet you and you can’t help but get lost looking at them.

Bruce looks between the two awkward teens, before clearing his throat, “I’ll have the cinnamon roll pancakes, with a side of bacon and black coffee.”

His words snap you out of the daze as you quickly jot down the order. “Got it, what about you?” you look up through the fake lashes you put on this afternoon in an attempt to look older, the glue still staining your fingertips.

“I’ll have the same,” he closes the menu, looking at your nametag before softly saying your name, “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” you reach for the menu, dropping it when your hands graze and an electric shock runs up your arm. “Shit,” you drop to pick them up when you see the boy before you help pick them off the floor, “thank you,” you whisper taking them from his outstretched hands.

“Jason,” he holds out a hand to help you up, the same zing shooting up your arm when your hands meet, “Jason Todd.”

“Thank you, Jason,” you take a step back, holding the menus to your chest, “I’ll be back in a moment with your drinks.”

He nods, his eyes tinged pink as he slides back into the booth. “Girl!” the boss shouts making you jump, “get a move on!”

“Coming,” you shout, quickly moving around the restaurant and refilling drinks before grabbing the coffee pot and rushing back to the table, flipping the mugs and filling them with the sludge.

Jason takes a sip before grimacing, he quickly tries to cover with a smile, “That’s perfect.”

It makes you giggle and a smile spreads across his cheeks, “Try it with cream and sugar, it’s not perfect, but it’s much better.”

He nods, reaching for the cream and sugar and she notes how he makes it, two creams and four sugars, boy has a sweet tooth. “Ahh, that’s much better,” he closes his eyes leaning back in the booth, “thank you.”

“Happy to help, your food will be up soon,” you smile, turning back to the others before the bell rings signaling out an order for pickup. Hal’s Diner is surprisingly busy for a Wednesday morning at 2 AM and it keeps you on your toes. You can’t help glancing at the father-son duo in the corner, quietly chatting over their cups of coffee.

“Order up,” Cookie shouts from the kitchen, “double cinnamon roll pancakes with two sides of bacon!” You rush to pick up the order before one of the runners, grabbing it a second before Veronica does.

“Who lit your ass on fire tonight?” Veronica puts her hands on her hips, “you trying to show off for Bruce Wayne? Hoping he’ll adopt you like one of his other street rats?”

“What are you talking about?” you grab the food and put it on the tray.

“You really don’t know nothing, kid,” she shakes her head, “you’ve been serving a billionaire all night and had no idea.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you shake your head, “doesn’t change anything.” She laughs incredulously, and you move around her to the table putting down the food. “Two cinnamon roll pancakes with a side of bacon.”

“Wow,” Jason licks his lips, “this looks fantastic.” Without your knowledge, you lick your lips watching him before Bruce coughs gaining your attention.

“Thank you,” Bruce nods, “can I get some more coffee when you get a chance?”

“Absolutely,” you grab the pot off the warmer and refill their mugs before grabbing the extra cream and sugar from your pocket and putting them before Jason. “Enjoy your meal,” you write the total on the pad and turn it over on the table, “I’ll be your cashier when you’re ready, no rush.”

“Thanks,” Jason swallows hard, jolting slightly when Bruce gives him an easy kick to the leg, “before you go though, would you…maybe want to join me next time?”

You blink, before a soft smile crosses your face, “I would really like that,” you write your number on the pad, “text me?”

“I will,” he pulls out his phone, the latest model, and quickly punches in the number before shooting off a quick text, the phone buzzing in your pocket. “That’s me,” he grins, putting the phone face down on the table.

“Got it,” you pull the old flip phone out of your pocket, saving his contact, “see you around, Jason Todd.” You smile, turning back and pocketing the phone before your boss sees.

“See ya,” he puts his head in his hand and watches you walk away. Bruce gives him a nudge pointing down at the food before him and he takes bites in between watching you walk around the different tables.

“Time to get going,” Bruce pulls cash out of his wallet, far beyond what the bill says before standing, “we got to get back out to patrol.”

“One second,” Jason stands, “I’ll meet you outside.”

Bruce nods, going towards the door and out into the pouring rain of the early morning. Jason walks to the counter and hands over the check and payment quickly cutting you off when you begin to protest about the number of bills in your hands. “Trust me, he can afford it. But what I really wanted to say is...can you text me when you leave and get home?”

“It’s not going to be for another two hours,” you wrap your hands around your waist, “I don’t want to bother you.”

“You won’t,” he shakes his head, “I’ll be more concerned not knowing if you got home safe. Gotham isn’t safe, especially at night.”

“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll text you.”

“Thanks,” he looks left and right before quickly leaning across the counter and placing a kiss on your cheek, “see ya around Doll.”

Ten Years Later

You brush the tear sliding down your cheek and look at the plate full of cinnamon roll pancakes, a side of bacon off to your right. The phone before you is newer but far from the newest model, all the extra funds going into the Diner, an impulse buy when it came up for sale, two years ago. The last memory you have of him, is Jason kissing you against the walk-in freezer door before he left for a trip with his father.

You open the phone, glancing down at the text, the last one he ever sent,

I miss you, I’ll be home soon. I have something important to tell you when I get back. Wait for me, Doll. - J

You put the phone face down on the table, letting the tears splash onto the table. “It’s been eight years, and I’m waiting J, right where you left me,” you whisper, putting a hand to your aching chest, “and I still feel lost without you.”

[writing-blocked-me]

Glued to Your Side

CW: Spoilers for everything past season 1, clingy Dazai, little bit of angst, brief mention of Oda, Dazai is so so smart but so so dumb, maybe OOC?, hurt/comfort, bad writing - I can’t write dialogue sorry!

Pairings: Dazai x Reader

Author’s Note: I need to stop writing angst so have a fluff piece!  Or at least what was supposed to be a fluff piece.  It turned more into hurt/comfort tbh.  Also I attempted dialogue for this fic but I am BAD at writing any form of speech so sorry for that.  Not proofread also I was very hungover when I finsihed this lmao.

Also! I have a Masterlist now! It only has like 4 works so far but hopefully that’ll change aha.

Masterlist

Ever since you started working at the ADA, your world had been turned on its head.  There was always some sort of strange job to take, or fight to have with the mafia or some other organisation.  However, there was one fact that remained constant since you had become a detective: Dazai Osamu was a flirt.

You were fine with it, even sometimes enjoying some back and forth banter with the living mummy. It was completely harmless, you knew it wasn't going anywhere so it wouldn't get in the way of your professional career. Plus, you knew you weren't the only one subject to Dazai's affectionate teasing, so you knew there would never be anything romantic between you too, meaning you were free to pursue real romance if you wanted to.

At least that's what you thought.

In the weeks following the batte against the Guild, Dazai had been clingier than usual. He made a point of always keeping some sort physical contact with you, whether it was leaning on you while you were sat on the agency's couch (after he dragged you to sit and do work there instead of your desk), or having you walk shoulder to shoulder when you went on jobs.

You guessed the close eye he had been keeping on you had something to do with meeting Q. You had been the agency member tasked with escorting Haruno and Naomi to safety. While the three of you were on the train, after escaping Lovecraft and Steinbeck, you met the small child named Yumeno. They had seemed like a perfectly normal, sweet little kid. The four of you got along and chatted as you waited to reach your stop. Getting off the train, however, was a different story. When Q bumped into Atsushi and activated his ability, your memories got a little fuzzy. It was like a flip switched in Atsushi as he suddenly became violent, lashing out towards Haruno, Naomi and yourself. You quickly jumped in to protect them, bearing the brunt of the attack and being thrown into the walls of the train station. You'd hit your head pretty badly, so you could not fully register the rest of what happened. You vaguely recalled Dazai rushing in and stopping Q's ability and watching the child wave goodbye as the train carried him off. You passed out shortly afterwards.

According to the others, Atsushi had taken Haruno and Naomi to safety, while Dazai took you straight to Yosano.

After the Guild used Q to attack Yokohama, Dazai had been stuck to you like glue. You hadn't minded, you were used to his antics and affectionate behaviour. But a week passed. Then two weeks and still Dazai was fixed at your side. You had begun to get suspicious. While he was clearly putting effort into appearing as his usual self, it was clear there was something going on. He had started flirting less and less with others, even ceasing his witty back and forths with the waitress at the cafe below the agency offices. He had gradually gotten clingier and clingier too, seeking you out even on days off, to the point where soemtimes you felt as if you were being suffocated.

Everything came to a head when your friends from home were visiting the city. You had planned to meet up with your friends in the shopping district. You had not planned on bumping into Dazai. Wandering through the shopping district, arms linked and laughing at old memories, you didn't even see the bandaged man until you walked straight into him.

“Belladonna! Fancy seeing you here!" Your coworker greeted you, eyes glinting with mischief.

You were sure he was up to something, but you couldn't quite figure it out. One thing you knew though, it was no surprise that he saw you there. You had made it known to the agency how you would be spending the day off.

"Yes, well you did know I was going to be here. I mentioned it yesterday Osamu," you remarked.

Truth be told, you'd been attempting to have a Dazai-free day. He hadn't left your side in a while and you were really in desperate need of some time to collect your thoughts. Due to his attentiveness over the past few weeks, your friendship with Dazai was slowly turning into something more, at least on your end. You were sure it was all in your head though so you needed some time away from him until you could collect yourself and sort your feelings out. His recent actions confused you.

Dazai's smile faltered at the mention of your plans. "Oh, I must have forgotten," he said, his tone uncharacteristically subdued.

You raised an eyebrow at his unusual behavior, but before you could say anything, your friends interrupted.

"Hey, who's your friend?" one of them asked, eyeing Dazai curiously.

"This is my coworker, Dazai Osamu," you introduced him, not noticing the way Dazai's jaw clenched at the mention of "coworker."

Your friends chatted with Dazai for a few minutes before you realised the time and had to rush to your lunch reservations.  Quickly saying goodbye to Dazai, you grabbed your friends and rushed off.

During lunch, your friends regaled you with stories from home, and you laughed and joked with them.  However, your mind was elsewhere, thinking of the strange actions of your fellow detective.  Dazai never forgot anything, you knew that you had mentioned coming out with your friends multiple times too, so what was he doing showing up? It was messing with your head.  At least you’d managed to escape him during lunch.

After saying goodbye to your friends, you decided you needed rest and you went home.  Shutting the door behind you, you dragged yourself over to your coush and toppled onto it, exhausted.  You had barely shut your eyes when you heard a knock at the door.  Opening the door, you came to see a familiar sight.

"Dazai? What are you doing here?" you asked, confused.

"Dropping by to say hello, of course," Dazai replied, strolling past you into the house and settling down on your couch.  “Bella you would not believe the day I’ve had.  First, Kunikida would not stop bugging me about th-”

“Stop.” You cut him off before he could finish his story.  “Osamu, what are you doing here? I mean what are you really doing here?”

His eyes softened at the use of his first name.  “I wanted to see you,” he spoke softly, barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid to let anyone else hear it.

“You see me all the time!” Your frustration started to get to you as you raised your voice.  “You literally saw me just a few hours ago, which, by the way, I know wasn’t a coincidence beacuse I definitely told you I was going out with my friends.”

“Y/N I-” he started, but you quickly shut him down.

“No.  Listen to what I have to say first. I don’t understand Dazai.  What do you want from me? You’ve been glued to my side ever since the battle with the Guild and you’ve been acting weird and I, I don’t know what’s going on but you’re messing with my head.  I was fine before, talking and joking with you, but now you’re just making me so confused and I don’t know what to think anymore.” You ranted and rambled on and on, letting all your thoughts out.  “What’s going on? Please tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” he started, as he watched you fall onto the couch beside him. He knew he had been acting different lately and he knew exactly why.  He couldn’t help himself, after all, he’d come to find he cared for you.  A lot.  Much more than he wanted to for everything that was ever worth wanting was lost the moment he obtained it.  But by God did he want you.  

When Higuchi and Gin lured him away from the station to talk, he had been suspicious.  But as he realised that Q had been unleashed, he felt his stomach drop.  He had never feared for another person so much, not since Oda.  He couldn’t lose you.  But he had been to late to protect you from Q.  So, while he knew he could not have you all to himself, he also decided he would always stay by you to ensure your safety.  You had become his top priority. 

Still, when you confronted him about his change in behaviour, he didn’t know how to respond.  He didn’t want to suffocate you, but he knew he had to protect you.  He couldn’t be with you, but he knew how crushed he would be if you were with someone else and it would no longer be his place to stay by your side.  He did not want to lose you and everything he ever managed to grasp was lost to him.  Hearing your words, he knew you had romantic feelings for him.  And now, as he gazed into your eyes, he was torn between his head and his heart.  

Noticing his silence, you began to speak again.  “This isn’t fair to me you know.  You have to be honset with me.  Just tell me the truth and from there, we’ll figure it out.”  You smiled, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.  He seemed so fragile, so delicate in a way you’d never seen him before.

The reassuring gesture prompted Dazai to once again look to the floor.  He know what you’d probably say, if he was honest with you.  You’d probably tell him it didn’t matter and that you could be together anyway.  Then you would get hurt and he couldn’t have that.  But he didn’t think he could lie to you either, not anymore.  You wouldn’t believe him.  So he chose his words carefully as he turned to you and began explaining.

“I know I've been...clingy, lately. And I'm sorry for that.” He snuck a glance at you, seeing you staring back, listening intently.  “You have to understand that what happened with Q, I just- I just need to make sure you’re safe.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know, belladonna, I’ve seen you in the field.  But this is something different.  I have to make sure i don’t lose you.  I need to make sure you’re safe because I-” He takes a pause again to collect himself, bracing for what comes next.  “I care about you a lot.  But I can’t be with you.  Everything I ever want, I ever love, is always lost and I can’t have that happen to you.  I tried to stop it, I flirted with others, told myself that it’s no different with you, but it was.  And the thing is, I’ve come to realise, I can’t help the way I feel about you.”

“Dazai-” You spoke, but this time he cut you off.

“Please just let me get this out.” He looked at you once more and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes.  Never had he been so open, so vulnerable. “I can’t help how I feel about you, and I can’t be with you.  Not in the way I want.  But I can protect you.  If I just stay close enough, I can protect you and you won’t have to be hurt.  I know it’s selfish, but it’s the only reason to stay close to you, without ever having to lose you, because you wouldn’t be mine.”

“Osamu-” He noticed you beginning to speak, but continued on, eyes now fixed to the floor.

“I knew what you’d say if I told you this.  I know what you’d probably tell me now if I let you speak.  That it’s not true, right? I can have you and you won’t be lost to me.  Except that it is true.  Everyone I’ve ever held close has been taken from me.  I will not let that happen again.” His tone was filled with conviction as his gaze grew more determined. “I’ve been to lenient, allowing myself to flirt and joke about with you.  It’s selfish of me, to do that to you when we have no future together, but I can never seem to help it when it comes to you.  I’m going to step back now though, let you live your life, find someone who deserves yo-”

“Don’t.” Dazai’s eyes widen as he takes you in.  Your eyes are glazed over, as if tears are about to spill at any moment, lip quivering, but your determination is written all over your face.  “You told me how much you care for me and want to keep me safe, right? Well, I feel the same way about you.” You were in complete disbelief.  How could he be so dumb as to believe you would ever love anyone else?  “You haven’t lost me yet, even though you said you wanted me.  There are some things in this life that we just can’t control, like when it’s time to depart from it.  You may lose some whom you love but that doesn’t mean that everyone else we love will follow the same pattern.” You reached out and grabbed his hands.  “Osamu, have you ever considered that, given that it’s my life, I should be able to decide how to spend it and who I spend it with?”

“Of course I have and you should, but that person can’t-”

“It can be you.  I don’t want to hear anymore of this ‘selfish’ crap about how you want to protect me and love me but can only do it from a safe distance.  I feel safest and happiest when I’m around you.  I feel protected because you’re there.  You’re a fool if you think anyone else is capable of making me feel that way.  Osamu I-” You took a breath, choosing how to word your next sentence carefully.  “Osamu. You are the most intelligent person I know, so I honestly don’t understand why you’re being so stupid right now.”

Dazai let out a shocked laugh at that.  He guessed he deserved the insult.  He guessed he probably deserved a lot worse than a single insult as he remained quiet, head down.

“You’re not being selfish by wanting to be close to me, especially when I want that too.  You are being selfish by keeping me at a distance and I won’t be letting that happen anymore.” At that Dazai lifted his head, turning to you wide eyed. “These feelings go both ways.  The idea of losing you is terrifying to me, just as losing me terrifies you, but we can’t stop loving others just because we’re afraid of loss.  We have to go on.  Maybe one day we might lose each other, but that’s not either of our faults, that is life.  We have to make the best of it by staying together and protecting each other.  The most fulfilling life for me is the one I get to spend with the person I love.” 

Dazai’s hands retracted from yours in one swift motion.  Startled, you jumped back slightly.  Had you said something wrong? Touched a nerve? Had you gone too far when you called him stupid?

“You... love me?” Wait what? Did he hear you right? You loved him? He had assumed you’d had romantic feelings for him, yes, but love?  He hadn’t realised you felt that strongly for him.  He’d assumed you’d easily be able to get over him as long as he distanced himself and he was dead set on keeping that distnce after starting this conversation.  Now, he didn’t think he could.  You loved him.  Him.  After that confession, Dazai lost any resolve he had left. His body moved of its own accord as his hands cupped your face, pulling you towards him.  

His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss, not at all what you’d imagined your first kiss with him to be like.  It was delicate and gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking you, yet still firm enough that you couldn’t escape his grasp, like he thought you may leave.  You assured him that wasn’t the case by raising your arms to rest around his neck, keeping him close.  As you broke apart for breath, Dazai rested his forehead against yours, keeping you as close as possible.

You stayed like that for while, holding each other, exchanging soft kisses, small reassurances that shared how much you cared for one another.  After that conversation, Dazai could not deny himself of you any longer, he couldn’t push you away, not after feeling your love.  You still had a lot to talk about, but for now, Osamu Dazai was happy to just hold you until you fell asleep in his arms and he could whisper his reply to your confession.

“I love you too.”

[firespirited]

I have a Delilah Noir !

I was looking for gunky bundles and found a damaged 'bjd' instead. She was a mess.

So I have two projects for the weeks ahead :

Celia the BJD: sculpting in Milliput for neck and hips then sanding and testing wig ideas.

Delilah Noir: acetone goop repair for the ankle, making a head cap, removing the pink overpaint from the lips, possibly filling the mouth slightly with coats of black + acrylic matte. Delilah probably won't be staying, she's a fun project but I'd want to modify her significantly.

photos under cut:

Celia's wiring. I'm not touching the eye makeup until the last minute, it gives her a cheekiness that demands attention - I will get around to doing the work!

Delilah looked like she'd been splashed with coffee. Her wig was glued to the front and back of her head (no head cap) with non water-soluble (or alcohol for that matter) glue so I gently pried it off and soaked it before removing the glue with my finger nails strand by strand from the wig (acetone for the head).

Her putty was both hard and turning into dust while also oily and pretending to be soft which is a very odd textural sensation... and had cracked one of the eyes a little. I removed the eyelash and replaced it with acrylic matte sealant for glue (dries clear, no clumps, water-soluble) as well as repainting the chipped lower lash lines.

She had stains on her upper eyes at the nose bridge, the eyeliner doesn't quite fit the eye with pink parts showing - the lipstick also doesn't quite match the lip sculpt. It's taking me a while to remove the pink, I'm thinking it's maybe enamel paint

Please excuse the green putty - since fixed it. There's potential in that face, I like the heavy lidded teen goth y2k look but it's missing something beyond my skillsets.

[outlashca]

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Eyelash extensions supplies can last for up to 6 weeks. However, they will gradually fall out along with your natural lashes over time. Normally, they fall out about four to six weeks after the initial appointment. If you want to extend the life of your extensions, you can have regular "fills" every few weeks to keep them looking beautiful for a long time. When applied properly, eyelash extensions are painless.

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While eyelash extension kits can save you time, they're also dangerous if not done correctly. If you don't have professional training, you're likely to damage your natural lashes by using the wrong glue or application technique. Using the wrong clear lash glue or incorrect techniques can lead to infections, lash breakage, and pain.

[best-cosmetics123]

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Eye Lashes Gum comes to makeup products, there are always new and innovative ideas coming up. One of the latest products to hit the market is the Eye Lashes Gum. This product has quickly become a must-have for many makeup enthusiasts. In this article, we will discuss what Lashes Gum is, how it works, and why it is a game-changer in the beauty industry.

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Eye Lashes Gum is a new type of adhesive for false eyelashes. Unlike traditional lash glue, which is usually clear and comes in a small tube, Lashes Gum comes in a small container that resembles a tube of lip gloss. The product is applied to the lashes using a small wand, and it dries down to a rubber-like texture that is incredibly durable.

[writingmysanity]

Okay

A/N: Firstly, thank you @sherwood-forests for reading over this piece! You are gods sent. secondly, @thehistoriangirl here is your background xD

TW: illness mentioned, pregnancy

Word count: 2767

“The results are in,” the doctor’s voice chimes from the door, alerting you of her presence. Twisting your body slowly, you frown at the look on her face, hands resting in your lap. You feel as if the air around you still as she confirms what you’ve dreaded. 

Your footsteps echo around you, skittering along the expanse of the abandoned hall. Where bodies had been hurriedly pressing passed you to get where they were going just minutes ago, there is no one. Left alone with your thoughts your arms wrap around your middle, as if the glue that can hold you together. 

Glittering chandeliers sway above, music making the crystals hanging from their ornate arms shake, miniature rays of light bouncing around you, lighting up the room spectacularly. Glancing around, you can't help but stare- ornate bodies twirling around the floor, jewels refracting the light from the crystals above. Wait staff swirl by, one bowing to you slightly, offering a flute of champagne. You take it gently, offering a smile in thanks. 

They smile back before disappearing into the crowds. 

Turning quickly, you muffle your yelp as you very nearly knock right into another chest, very nearly knocking his own flute from his hands. He seems just as surprised as you, but recovers quickly, offering you a weak, but kind smile. 

“My apologies,” you strain to hear him, his accent softening his words. You just nod quickly. “I should have been paying closer attention.” opening your mouth to refute his claim that he was the one in the wrong, he merely lifts his other hand, cane coming with it for a moment, the motion clear. 

Instead, you offer him your name. At this, he smiles, crooked and unguarded, nose crinkling at the motion. Setting his flute to the side, he offers you his hand. 

“Viktor.”

Dim lights flicker above your head, casting random shadows over the sporadic placements of potted plants along the lines, the only living things keeping you company on your way. Cursing yourself, you look around, glancing at the numbers on the doors.

Are you even going the right way? Huffing, you shake the thoughts away, fighting the emotions welling up. Biting your lip so that it can't tremble, you push on, counting the doors like you had that night. 

298. Second hallway, fifth door to your left.

One…

Two…

Five…

Circled by empty flutes, you lean against the table, flush against its flat top, cheek squished to it with a giggle, eyes half lidded. Viktor looms over you, amusement as clear on his face as the flush, his cheeks warm. You like the pink, you find. Grinning up at him, you sit up some, allowing him a view down the front of your dress, unobstructed. 

He startles to a stop, eyes falling down the expanse of your skin, tongue darting out to wet his lips before forcing his eyes back to yours, trying his best to be a gentleman- you are not making it an easy task. Humming, you tap his hand lightly with your finger, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Want to run?” you grin, lips curling mischievously, matching the glint in his eye. 

“And where will we go?” he muses, tilting his head to regard you better. You shrug.

“I don't care, as long as it's you.” you had only just met, but you know you were telling the truth- a byproduct of your drinking- it made you honest. You realized, you would probably follow him wherever he asked, as long as his fingers kept trailing your skin, and his eyes stayed on you.

“My…” he hesitates, swallowing before continuing, pursing his lips before a rough release of air unpuckers them. “My apartment is not far” he manages, watching you keenly, as if waiting for you to retract your offer, teasing him relentlessly about having been caught- this was a joke. When you only smile, your fingers finding his with a nod, he relaxes.

“Okay.” 

Skittering to a stop, you eye the number on the door before you. 

298.

Unsure of what to do, you stare at the door for a moment. You can still feel it, the chill of the door on your back as he presses you into it, his feverish lips on yours as he struggles to unlock the door without breaking the kiss. His groan when you arch your body into his. 

Shaking your head, trying to knock the memory away, you lift your hand slowly. You're not even sure when you knocked- you didn't feel the wood against your hand- but the sound reverberated around you loudly, making you wince. 

Once the echoes subside, you are surrounded once more with silence. You sit in it for 30 seconds more, bouncing anxiously on the balls of your feet, hugging yourself. Eventually, the silence becomes unnerving- obviously he is either not home or asleep- you were foolish for coming. You chastised yourself as you turned.

He's a big important scientist, obviously he has more important things. 

Your own thoughts make you freeze, midway down the hall as you soften. But he still deserves to know. You are about to start back towards your own room again when the lock slides, the sound slamming against the walls, startling you. Stopping, staring at his lithe body hunched over his cane as it leans out of his door, you can't find it in you to move. His eyes sweep around before landing on you, brows furrowed in confusion. He is just as beautiful as he was that night, but he looks paler, the bags under his eyes purplish, as if he has had trouble sleeping, his hair tousled.

When you don't move, he steps out, calling your name gently, the sound breaking you from your thoughts. “What is wrong?” The concern in his voice breaks your resolve, lip trembling- all of your practiced words dying in your throat. 

I’m sorry

You don't have to be involved. 

He is still waiting, taking several paced steps towards you, patient. You can't help it, the way it blurts out, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them.

“I'm pregnant,” he freezes, eyes widening almost comically, his hand left lingering in the air where he had been reaching for you, about to offer comfort. “It’s yours,” you choke on the words, clawing back the sob threatening to spill from your chest. He doesn't move, staring down at you in shock. 

“It… can be no one else?” His voice is soft, but distant, giving you no indication of how he is feeling. You shake your head, swallowing. 

“No,” he just nods. When he doesn't move, doesn't say anything else, you continue. You're shocked you are still standing from the way your legs tremble, threatening to give way at the slightest provocation. 

“I… just wanted you to know,” you begin. “I have zero expectations of you, Viktor.” Your voice is quiet, rushed. “You don't have to be a part of any of this- I just felt you had the right to know.” you backup a step, watching him closely. His eyes are stuck on you, grabbing his cane hard enough you're sure he will break it, but he doesn't move towards you. 

Taking that as your answer, you turn on your heel and head back to your own apartment. Your walk turns to a jog, then to a sprint when you hear him choke on your name, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spring forth clouding your way back. 

Once back behind closed doors, the rest of the dam breaks. Back pressed to the door, you sob, shoulders shaking as your chin hits your chest, everything hitting you at once. Sliding slowly down the door, you bury your face in your knees, hands gripping at your hair as you wail into the fabric of your stockings. You don't pay attention to the way your tears mix with your makeup and stains them beyond repair. You cry until you cant anymore, the sounds reducing themselves to a whimper, curled up on your side head tucked to your knees as you cradle your stomach. 

Still trembling, you stroke your stomach, a watery smile slides across your face, hiccuping. 

“I'll never leave you, little one.” you promise. “Even if it's just you and me, you will never be alone.”

Laying there, collecting yourself, you sniffle, tears coming and going- but you are too exhausted to try and move, the only indication of the time being the way the light filtering in from your windows shifts as the day moves along. Light turns to shadows before the patter of rain echoes out in the silent apartment. Wiping at your eyes a final time, you push up slowly, wincing at how your body aches from lying on the floor for several hours, stomach aching even more, the snarl of it the only noise in the room. Huffing a laugh, you shake your head. 

“I suppose I will have to be better about self care,” you mutter, about to step towards the kitchen when a knock sounds at the door, nearly jumping out of your skin at the abruptness after spending so long only listening to your thoughts. You hesitate, unsure if you are wanting to open it- you've very few friends given your job. Being Counselor Mel’s assistant leaves little time for a social life. 

Electing to ignore it, you turn back towards the kitchen until you hear your name followed by a gentle thud.

“Please,” Viktor’s voice bleeds through the door once more, tight- thick. “Please… open the door.” hesitating, you turn towards the door slowly, the sound of the latch sliding louder than you expected- but somehow only slightly louder than the thunder of the blood rushing against your ear drums. You only creak the door open slightly at first, eyeing him through the crack. 

His forehead is pressed against the door, hand resting in a fist above his head. Feeling the movement of the door, he peeks out at you, golden irises brilliant with the circling of the darkened bags resting under his eyes. The mouth that had given you so much pleasure- from the way it felt on your skin to the way his nose crinkled when he smiled- is a hard line as he worries at his lip. He looks paler than before, the bags worse, as if it's been days instead of hours. His normally neat hair tugged and pulled at, sticky spikes dampened by the rain, baby hairs sticking to his forehead, along with all of his clothes. You realize suddenly that he is drenched, his whole body trembling, the word escaping his lips making you shiver at the depth of emotion behind it, eyes watering. Please. 

In spite of yourself, you open the door more, hand reaching out to steady him as his bad leg gives out slightly, leaning his weight on you for a moment before he is able to regain his composure, following you inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Silence envelopes you both, all traces of hunger gone as you move to get him a towel, handing it out to him awkwardly. His movements are slow, calculated… frigid as he begins to dry himself off the best he can, ruffling his hair with a whisper.

“Thank you,” you just nod, not trusting your voice. Slowly, he stops, settled on the edge of your couch as he looks up at you, eyes wide. He's scared, you realize, before kneeling before him slowly, but maintain your distance, guarding your heart. 

“What…” you pause, licking your lips. You flinch when his hand comes to gently trace along your cheek, the puffy, raw skin sensitive to his chill. You're sure you're a sight to see, red and raw from crying, makeup smeared across your face- you're sure your hair is a mess, as well. “What are you doing here, Viktor?” it comes out with more venom than you mean for, startling him, but he doesn't shrink away- just looks down at his other hand slowly, still curled into a ball. Shifting, you stare at it too, gawking when he unfurls his fingers to reveal a ring. It's pretty, silver with a brilliant green stone you don't recognize. 

“It…” taking a deep breath, he turns to look at you, meeting your eyes and he rolls the ring across his finger tips before lifting it to you slightly. “It was my mother’s” you freeze, staring at the ring in his hand, breathing shallowly. He takes it as an opportunity to continue. “I… I would have come to you quicker, but I couldn't find it quickly enough.” frustration bleeds into his tone, earning your gaze back. As soon as it hits you, you’re shaking your head.

“No… no!” pushing yourself back, pacing in front of the couch, running your fingers through your tangled hair. “You… Marriage… you don't want to marry me, Vik,” you pause to look at him, desperation evident in your face. “I refuse to marry simply because I am pregnant.” his face twists, hand twitching around the ring. “We don't have to be married for you to be involved” you try to reason, waiting, begging for him to say something. When you stop talking, he takes it as his turn. Looking down at the ring, he frowns, a tired sigh pushing past his lips, your name coming out quietly. 

“I am sick,” he confesses, so soft you almost don't hear it, but it makes you freeze in your tracks, staring at him from across the room. “I do not… I do not have much time- according to the doctors.” now he looks at you- anger, anxiety, fear all simmering there, his brilliant golden eyes boring into you, burning you like sunburn. “I know that… marrying a cripple from the undercity is most probably not your idea of an ideal union..” At that, you break out of your stupor, marching up to him, fingers wrapping around his chin as you tug it up, forcing him to look up at you, anger simmering in your eyes- an anger he doesnt recognize nor understand.

“Merely a cripple from the undercity, are you?” he winces at your tone, clipped, rough. “You are many things, Viktor- crippled? Sure. but you are also stunning, brilliant, a complete gentleman. I refuse to allow you to speak lowly of yourself, not in my presence.” eyes tacked to yours, he doesn't try to move, any motion of his head restricted by your hand. Instead, he reaches up, fingers wrapping around your wrist, squeezing gently, tears welling up, his lip quivering just slightly.

“Please,” he pleads again. “Let me care for you, for you both the only way I can. I am not strong, I am not… built for a family- my life revolves around my work.” shaking your head, you pull back, sighing. 

“And how will this be caring for us, Vik?” he sighs, laying his head against your stomach, nosing there gently, your hands resting hesitantly on the back of his head, stroking down slowly trying to calm him. Shuddering at the contact, his hand comes up to rest over yours as the other wraps around your middle, holding you there.

“When I am… gone…” he settles, mumbling against your stomach. “You will be provided for, still. Jayce has assured me of that. Allow me to do what I can to make sure you and my child are cared for after I am no longer here to see to it myself.” The silence stretches around you both, just resting there as he holds you. It's dizzying, dealing with the whirlwind of what your day has become- the idea that you will have a baby with this gentle man, kind and smart… and you're not even sure how long you will be able to keep him in your child's life. 

“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, unsure. “I don't want you to feel you have to.” he just nods against your stomach, the motion lifting your shirt just slightly, just enough for his fingers to brush the skin there. 

“Yes,” his voice is quiet, but absolute. Slowly, he looks up at you, gentle eyes molten over your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your sternum, fingers running over your stomach where it will inevitably swell in months to come. Swallowing, you squeeze his hand gently where it rests on his neck, eyes pinched closed to keep another round of tears from springing up, warmth blooming in your chest, your voice thick as you nod.

“Okay.” 

----

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@grumpyoutlaw @thehistoriangirl @rainbowpitofdoom @wizarrdofooze @uniquedeerwitch @ace-of-zaun @aerynwrites @queenxxxsupreme @beeblybub @ears-queers-gears-n-fears @just-an-adventurer  

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[your-highnessmarvel]

cotton candy | s.riley

CHAPTER EIGHT

Pairing: Simon Riley aka Ghost x Original female character

Warnings: KISSING. SMOOCHING. TONGUE KISSING.

Chapter Summary: Operation Starlight is on. But Laura doesn't know if she has what it takes to even do this thing.

A/N: OIIII I love this!!!!

Masterlist

Taglist: Open

Will be posting on AO3. IF ONLY I CAN FIGURE OUT HOW IT WORKS LMAO.

Chapter eight

It was so god damn cold!

My skin would peel from the frigid wind if it wasn't fastened to my bones like glue. Who would have thought that the South Asian weather could drop to sub zero temperatures and mimic the worst of Antarctic weather?

But here I was, hands under my pits to warm my fingers, standing in line behind two young girls with hair as dark as mine. They looked buzzed, blazed and confused, and the looks they kept shooting me over their slender shoulders gave my goosebumps goosebumps.

"Fucking hell," I muttered.

I heard the telltale crackle of the comms device in my ear. And then, Soap's drawl in my ear, "Don't start yapping those ugly words, lassie."

I smiled, the sound of his voice and the lilt of his accent making the ice in my bones thaw a little.

"I'm cold, Soap," I answered under my breath, pressing my chin to my chest to brace against the harsh wind.

"You'll be inside in a few minutes, mami," came Ale's honey voice. He sounded like a stripper through comms.

But who I really wanted to hear was Ghost. I wanted him to tell me he was alright, that he'd made it inside. Because that meant that I would cross someone in there that would potentially be him. I had to look for a blonde man with blonder lashes and a heart-shaped mouth.

No. I had to look for Alvarez and walk to the extraction point. I had two jobs and that's it.

"How did you guys make it in before me?" I asked. "In America, that's the other way around. Women don't wait in the cold."

Someone cleared their throat over comms. "That's because you're in the wrong line, sweetheart." It was Gaz, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw him standing beside our Plan B car, smoking a cigar.

He motioned to my left with his chin and winked. Bless this man.

I looked over the shoulder of the girls in front of me and saw a lady walk to the bouncer and offer him a few bucks. Well, that's why Ghost had handed me Baht bills before we got out the car. It wasn't just to pretend to buy a drink.

When I made it inside the club, my skin felt soft, as if I had been a hard slab of chocolate placed near a raging fire.

I gave a few more bucks for the entrance fee, made my way clumsily through a dark hallway, and made my way towards the music. The closer I got, the more it echoed and throbbed in my chest, beating with my heart like two drums in sync.

I pulled the red velvet cliché curtain and stepped onto the mezzanine, where a sea of roiling bodies danced under me. Glaring, jetting blue and green lights washed over the dancers, and I gripped the railing, looking over to get a better glimpse at their faces.

The music was good and they moved to it perfectly. I caught the flash of a silver bracelet, a glimpse of someone's bright red hair, skin on skin, hands and nails digging into any exposed flesh.

It was the dream of any raver, any dancer who wanted to get lost into the notes. It was intoxicating to look at.

Someone bumped into me, spilling their drink across my top, ice tumbling into my bra. The drunk dancer excused himself in Thai and tried to clean it up, but I was too flustered, too raw to let him. Instead, I walked right passed him and followed the glowing yellow sign for the bathrooms.

It was another world in there. Behind the hardwood door, the music was muffled and replaced by the sounds of a flushing toilet and a sink that was accidentally left open. I grabbed onto the paper towels and dried my chest and dove into my bra to retrieve the melting ice.

Two girls burst in, laughing, and the fright it gave me sent me hollering. They stopped cackling and looked at me, watching as I tried to calm my racing heart.

One of them, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, with cherry blonde hair and a pink, round mouth, cocked her head. "You're American?" she asked, holding onto the other girl's shoulders. She was American too. One of the former girl's blocky bracelets got stuck in the other girl's brown locks.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Who's that?" came Soap in my ear.

"Wow, I thought we'd never see any Americans here tonight!" the girl said, thunking against the wall, blonde locks falling into her eye. She smirked and laughed. "Your outfit is so nice."

I threw the paper towels into the bin. "Have a nice night ladies," I said.

"Wait," the blonde said, slurred mostly. She put a finger up, curled it, smirking like she had the nastiest secret about your beloved coworker. "I bet you want some meat tonight, eh?"

My cheeks heated like a match, instantly burning to my ears.

Someone laughed on comms.

"I - well, no."

She scoffed. The other girl yelped when the blonde slid to the floor, bruised bare knees bending up to the sky.

She laughed. "There's these guys upstairs," she slurred, gulped, and I could see the vomit clawing up her throat.

"Get closer," it was Ghost, and the command sung in my bones, struck me like a slap in the face, and my feet slid closer to the girls.

"Guys where?" I asked, scratching the inside of my wrist.

She scoffed again. "They're like, Thailand's fake mafia or whatever," she continued, chewing on her lip. Please God let her finish that sentence before she yacks.

"Fake mafia?" I questioned. "Like the Godfather?"

Her blue eyes light up, mouth opening. "Yes!" she answered. "And they paid me drink after drink like... and they told me to get more girls up there because they're bored, I think."

I nodded, nails clawing at the soft skin of my palms.

"Ask her what they look like," it was Ghost again and his order burned into my ear, lighting in my throat. As if he had tied strings to my limbs and puppeteered me.

"Are they handsome?" I asked. "I have a specific type."

"Good girl, Laura," came Soap through comms. Something brewed in my belly, like hot embers.

The blonde raised her brows, as if recognizing a fellow wild card girl.

"They have these dark, slick back hair, you know?" she said, trying to get to her feet. The other girl winced, pulling at the strands stuck in the blonde's bracelet. "They're tall and all full of muscle. And they're wearing these like black suits, like... John Wick, yeah?"

"Hmmm," I said. "Tattoos?"

"Atta girl."

She frowned, turning to peer at her friend. The brunette looked up at me, clearly less intoxicated than her friend. "They have these hand tats, like tigers or something stupid like that."

Never liked big cat tattoos either.

"That might be them," Soap mumbled. I fidgeted in my place, waiting for their orders. "Ask them how to get up there." Bingo.

"That makes me want to go so much," I giggled, trying to fake some kind of girlish, bathroom pact.

"That's so fake, mami."

"Where do I go?" I asked the girls.

The brunette carried her friend over into the open stall. "Just find the stairs that go up, not down. Give your name at the door. They let about any girl up there."

And just before I was bursting out the bathroom door, the blonde finally yacked.

"Guys," I whispered through comms. "I go up there alone?"

There was a long silence while I meandered through the mezzanine, looking for the stairs. But I didn't need to hear any answer because the problem found me first.

The man standing guard at the bottom of the stairs turned. When he faced me, his features felt like a puzzle I'd solved before and I could easily put back. He was familiar, down to the fucking busted front tooth when he sneered at me.

This was one of the men that were there when Ben talked with Alvarez.

And by the looks of it, he recognized me too.

"Shit," I breathed. I took a step back, and if this guy wasn't suspecting me already, that sure as hell made it clear now. He knew exactly who I was and that I wasn't, clearly, dead. I'd seen Alvarez's face. And I was here.

"Laura, what is it?" It was Ghost.

"He recognizes me," I answered. The guy brought a walkie talkie up to his mouth, keeping his eyes on me.

He took one step forward. Feet appeared at the top of the stairs. Three pairs. I looked up, saw three men descending, dressed up like they're the toughest assassin in the Continental.

Then Dude 1 pointed at me. And all four looked up to meet my gaze.

My heart beat against my rib cage, my breath coming in short spasms.

"Run," Ghost said.

I felt his command in my bones.

I turned, my feet, squished in the shoes that were a size too small, screamed in agony as I mulled against the wave of clubbers.

It felt like running in a dream, fighting against an invisible force holding me back, feeling the fire nipping at my heels. I made it to a hallway, bouncing off the wall like a clumsy idiot, and raced through. People knocked into me, bruising my shoulders, scraping against my elbow. But I felt along the wall, running until my knees ached.

I flew passed another hallway, gripping the wall to push my momentum. I'd always been fast. Ghost could tell you that.

"I'm taking the East side!" I heard Soap in my ear.

"I'm taking North!" that was Ale.

"I think I saw her on the mezzanine floor!"

But I didn't care. I ran and ran, passing partygoers and lovers and drunks.

Until, "Laura." His voice culled me out of my panic, slamming me back down into my body, into the fear beating against my chest, the terror running through my veins.

My ears were drumming with the echo of my breath.

"What do you see?" he asked.

I turned. "It's a room. It's so dark in here Ghost."

"What color are the walls?"

"Green, I think," I said, bracing my shoulder on the wall and walking backwards, away from the entrance, watching for any moving bodies. There was another entrance to another hallway to my right. This place was a maze.

"What are people doing? Is the music loud?"

I looked around. "People are..." The irony of it made my mouth shut. "They're making out?" Five couples were strewn about in various stages of making out or... oh, that was third base.

"Music?"

My ears were ringing but not loud, thrumming bass. "No, it's muffled though. I can hear it." I turned away from the lovers, focusing on the hallway I just came through. Waiting.

I heard shouting. Men. Fear gripped me like a cold hand, like fingers digging into my throat, clawing between my ribs.

"I see you."

His chest came resting, hot and firm, at my back. I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling his breath along the top of my head.

"Turn around, close your eyes," he ordered, his fingers gripping on the exposed skin just under the hem of my camisole, where my belly was exposed.

"Ghost, what do we do?" I asked, panted, hearing the men closer, louder. I almost fantasized that I could hear their feet slamming on the ground.

"Close your eyes, Laura, and turn." He was so firm, twisting me around, hair flying across my eyes and I closed them instinctively.

I felt warm, rough hands caressing my face gently, holding onto my cheeks like I was made of glass and he was made of stone.

"Don't open your eyes," he whispered, and this time, his mouth was at my ear and I could feel the warmth of his skin, his stubble, his lips against my jaw. He really wasn't wearing a mask.

And then he pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. I heard, behind me, the rustle of feet, shouting, and I tensed, like someone had poured cement down my spine and left me out to dry.

Ghost sprung us into action, one arm snaking around my waist, effortlessly lifting my feet off the floor and flinging us to the side. My back collided with the wall, and his entire frame pressed against me, covering me, hiding me. I could feel his thighs pressed against mine, his hands skimming along my waist, his face in the crook of my neck.

His face.

But I kept my eyes closed. I shut them tight, wincing when I felt him move, hovering his lips over mine.

The shouting was there, right in the hall, coming in the room.

"Ghost," I whispered. Lips trembling, hands clutching the front of his shirt.

I was on fucking fire.

He pressed one hand into my hair, combing his fingers through the strands and he pulled, tugging my face back. And then he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man starved, molding his mouth to mine, prying my lips apart so he could pet his wet tongue against mine. He groaned into my mouth, fingers tugging painfully at the roots of my hair.

This wasn't just a distraction.

His hips pressed flush against mine, his free hand roaming over my stomach, inching upwards until he held my breast in his grip. I squeaked, bracing my hands across his back, and I felt the fire lick up my spine at the thought that I could finally touch him. Finally feel the hardness of his muscles, the heat of his skin under his t-shirt, the ridges of scars, the valley between his shoulder blades.

And my hands went up until I could plunge them in his hair.

My world pinpointed to the breath he was breathing into my lungs, the feel of soft, blonde strands between my fingers. The scruff of his stubble burning my chin. The feel of his thumb and forefinger pulling at my nipple through my camisole. The grunt that broke through my teeth and echoed off his mouth as he kissed, devoured me.

And when my hips, my waist, pushed against him, I knew I was in big fucking trouble.

But he pulled away, panting, hiding his face in my shoulder, in my hair. He breathed against me and I opened my eyes, noticing his blue tee, the rise and fall of his wide shoulders.

And no one else in the room except us and a few lovers making out.

"Close your eyes," he panted, hands resting against my waist, fingers clawing at my frame. But his tone was sweeter and his accent so sluggish it was like he was drunk. One hand came up, fingers digging into my breast, tugging me closer. He was tearing at the fucking seams.

I could feel him, hard in his jeans, pressing against my belly. His thumb smoothed across my nipple, his teeth grazed my shoulder, tongue tasting the skin there.

His hips twitched, grinding into me, pushing me back harshly against the wall. I winced, hissed, but his hands caressed the side of my neck.

I closed my eyes. I felt the heat, slipping like tar down my belly. I bit my lip, feeling the heat, the pressure build between my legs.

Bravely, I pressed my face into the soft spot where his shoulder meets his neck and I bit him, marked him like he'd marked me in the shower. He groaned, pressing into me until the breath left my lungs. Until I squealed into his skin, feeling hot and cold, insects scuttling along my skin, my core aching. I felt his hand press my hip into the wall.

"I'm not looking," I whispered and God, my voice was wretched.

I felt him move, but his hands moved away from my breast, my neck, toyed with the hem of my camisole, index inching under it.

He breathed a shattered, shaken breath into my neck. I felt him grind into me, breathing close to my ear. He was so hard, so warm in his jeans. I wanted to touch him.

I wanted to say his name, to breathe the syllables through my lips, but the crackle of someone clearing their throat through comms made me slam right back to reality.

We'd just made out in front of the entire task force. Laswell included.

"Get Laura to the extraction point, right now." It was Soap.

"But Alvarez," I said. Ghost pushed back from me. I kept my eyes tightly shut.

"We need to get you out. They know you're here, mami."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, but no one answered.

I waited, perched between the wall and Ghost, until he moved away. I was so scared, so defeated, that I stayed there, eyes closed. The heat on my skin died, the buzzing of a million bees under my skin quieted. The ache, that throbbing, wet need between my legs, though, that didn't ebb.

Someone's warm hand tapped my elbow. "Open your eyes, lassie."

Soap smiled down at me, eyes so kind. He was dressed so normally too. It made him look so... brotherly. He gave me a look, raking his eyes from feet to toe, assessing. He could definitely see the red of my cheeks, my swollen lips, my hair in a mess.

"Time to go."

I let him put an arm over my shoulder, pretending we were friends, lovers even. He put his head down close to mine, mouth at my ear as we walked out onto the mezzanine, towards the exit.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," he muttered into my ear. I grabbed onto his wrist, where it lay on my shoulder. He was so warm.

A shiver sliced down my throat because... I hadn't hated kissing Ghost. Having to kiss him was the best part of this evening.

"It's fine."

Soap brushed his nose across my temple. His breath fanned the side of my face. "You'd tell me if it wasn't?" he asked, and his voice, so low, so comforting, made my insides roil.

What was wrong with this task force? What was wrong with me?

[iplayghoul]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝... 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐲?

pairing:: eren yeager x reader

word count:: 1k

warnings:: haunted houses, eren is a scaredy cat, zombie actors, fluff & comedy, mentions of sex, suggested stuff but no smut here lol my bad (soon tho)

notes:: cute lil eren fic for halloween lol, reblogs and comments appreciated 💕 lets me know if this is ass or not!

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, maybe if he didn't wear that ugly ass costume of shaggy from scooby doo.

"din' i tell you, your costume fuckin' sucks Eren?" you seethed at him, semi-playfully because his costume was actually horrible.

you're checking your purse again as eren parked the car outside the halloween amusement park even, counting your extra lip gloss, lashes incase you lost one, lash glue, condoms and mints; keeping mental notes of everything you brought with you from home.

"and 'fore you say anything, like my nails?" you put down the purse briefly and looked to the side at eren who was dressed as shaggy from scooby doo; showing him the long stiletto nails you got, a black base fading into blood red tips. he smiled a little, "yea, it's cute, sweet girl."

"n' my costume's good, aight?" he shot back, peering down at you and chuckled while you rolled your eyes.

sharp nails dusted some short strands of blonde hair away from your eyes, pretty lace front tied into two pigtails. then, your lace clad hands tugged straight the black dress you wore, feeling it ride up your thighs every time you moved in the car.

"nah, you know it is. i told you since october first! 'hey 'ren im dressin' as misa for halloween, you better show up to my apartment as light yagami or you gettin' kicked out' or sumn like that, remember?" wet glossy red lips smacked together as you chewed your gum loudly. eren, unamused, "now ion- ion remember hearin' dat last part, baby." he smiled at you and gave an aerated chuckle.

"shuddup shuddup! let's go, we don't got all night." you shut him up quick and unlocked the car door waiting for eren to do the same,

"what's the rush, huh? want me to fuck you in that costume when we get back to your apartment?" he sucked a lip between his teeth and looked at you expectantly while you open the door, "no dumbass, maybe you woulda got sum' if you were dressed as light, damn!" shutting the car door on him. eren shook his head and followed along.

"two tickets to the haunted house please!" you chirped at the attendant, chilly fall air tickling your almost bare legs that eren kept a large hand on. he wasn't too fond of the way the clerk looked at you but kept his comments to a minimum, letting you drag him to the entrance cheerily.

despite his rough and tough act, in a shaggy costume, eren loathed horror, scary movies and of course: haunted houses.

"you really wanna' do this?" he pulled you back from entering the pathway and started whining and rocking your shoulders back and forth in a terrible attempt to convince you otherwise. 

"and what do you suggest we do otherwise mr. yeager or should i say shaggy?" he cleared his throat quickly, "first of all, don't call me that. second of all, can you leave my shaggy costume alone? it's cute girl, i know you like it."

you blinked your eyes, in false astonishment.

"this sassy ass nigga pandemic has got to stop, jesus fuckin' christ. look- c'mon on," you grabbed eren's arm and pulled him in the entrance.

ghoulish music sounded out on the entrance, eren held onto your waist and you his arm as you navigated shortly in the dark beginnings. the narrow, bending path through the haunted house before you came upon a blue-green glow of the upper lights lining the walls that were decorated with fake spider webs, skeletons and witch dummies.

"oh wait, this cute as hell hold on," you whispered with a giggle, peeping back to look up at eren who had a frozen look of terror on his face.

you snickered, pulling out your phone and snapping a bright picture of his face and then one of the haunted room. just as you turned back to put your phone away, you felt a tug at your purse, you swung your body to the left, "what the fuck is that!" eren bawled out behind you gripping your purse and dragging you backwards.

you were more focused on getting him to get off your dior purse, "'ren stop grabbing my fucking bag!" you wrangled with him, annoyed, "fucking— babe look behind you!" swirving around you see a tall gorey looking figure, cleary made to be a zombie wearing ripped clothing and groaning as he came near you both.

visibly annoyed and agitated, you let out a high pitched scream, eren and the zombie froze, the latter ducking the minute you swung your purse around: effectively giving the actor a fatal smack down. you grabbed eren and left the groaning zombie behind your heels and rounded the next corner.

with a quickness, and swings of your heavy purse beating whatever was in your way, you skipped out through the swirly pathways, dragging  eren by his loose green shirt until you saw the bright lights of the amusement park's rides.

"if you pull that shit again i swear to god im gon' beat yo ass right in there with that damn zombie too!" you pointed a finger in his face, a sheen of sweat covering him and he gulped, "it was fuckin' scary im sorry! did you see his face?" you dropped your wait onto your other heel, "be fuckin' for real right now, let's get some snacks and go back to my apartment." you pouted up at him and his lips twitched with a bit of guilt.

"aight what about..." he rocked back and forth on his feet, "if we get korean hot dogs n' glazed donuts, we c'n ill sit quiet n' watch the original scream with you."

you rubbed your lips together, pondering on his options and patting your makeup with an oil sheet, "deal. let's go and don't make me regret this shit."

— masterlist.

[coelacanis]

Meet Sweetums (Pt. 2)

As promised, this is my process post for the craft adventure I went on with my very first customized Furby ever!

Of course it started with skinning. As a first timer I was nervous about this first step but I quickly came to see how sturdy these things are. The screws toward the top were hard to get to but once I got it, I was able to remove the pelt!

Not pictured: I washed the pelt in lukewarm water and unscented Eucalan (a great soap for delicate things like vintage or natural fibers).

I knew I wanted to experiment with dye, and my research showed me that it would be a massive challenge. Synthetic fur is usually a polyester and acrylic blend, which is plastic. When faux fur gets colored, it’s done when the plastic is still in its liquid stage. Once it becomes the dry soft fur, it can no longer accept much color. Rit makes a great line of dyes for synthetics that are specially formulated for this, but I knew going in that I would still get limited results. This dye needs to be used on the stovetop with hot water. Faux fur can’t be exposed to that kind of heat because it will damage or even melt the fibers. Furby pelts also still have the plastic mask attached which could melt. Because of this, I would be using the dye in warm water, not hot - hence the limited results

Here’s the Rit I used. I mixed these three colors to attempt to get a reddish orange autumn-like color.

I actually had to dye the pelt twice because 24 hours in the mixture did almost nothing. The second time I only soaked it for 4 hours but I diluted the dye way less. In the photo below you can see how the fur is rejecting the dye.

While the pelt was soaking in the dye, I got to work on removing the beak. You’re supposed to just be able to slide that metal bar in their face out, but mine wouldn’t budge no matter what I did. I even removed the outer shell to try to get at pieces around it, but no such luck (this is why everything is open in the next few pictures). I had a custom beak I wanted to use, so the original had to come off one way or another. It took forever, but I sawed away at it with an X-Acto knife until I was able to get the beak off in pieces.

Next came the eyes. I used the well known hot glue trick where you melt the ends of glue gun sticks with a lighter, attach them to the eyes, freeze it for a little while, and then yank the eye chips out. This process worked beautifully first try and got me some of my favorite Furby pictures I’ve ever taken:

I had lots of time while the pelt was being dyed so I finished up my custom eyes. There were some really cool options on Etsy but ultimately I decided that I wanted to make my own. I traced the old eye chips onto thick mixed media paper and painted my own design with acrylic paint. Then I coated it with resin and cured it with UV light. I had a UV resin pen that I used for this. It actually didn’t work super well, the pre-mixed resin in the pen wasn’t blended well at manufacturing (is the conclusion I came to after some research) so it didn’t cure properly. It had this tacky feel to it. I had this problem all over this project, which I solved by giving everything I had painted (eye chips, eye lids, mask, beak, and tongue) a top coat of clear nail polish lol.

I also used my own waterproof mascara on her lashes. Slay.

I cut the eyes out with scissors and you can see it’s not quite perfect. Not horrible for being done by hand though! It doesn’t bother me on the finished Furby.

I painted the custom beak too. I linked it in my previous post, but I’m going to again because I can’t praise this beak from DuctTapeStuck on Etsy enough. Besides the really cool skull design, the best thing about this beak is how it has open hooks in the back. The original Furby beak has plastic that surrounds that metal bar as a closed ring, meaning that the bar has to be able to come out in order for it go on at all. Like I mentioned before, the bar on my Furby was not moving. But because DuctTapeStuck’s beak has open hooks in the back, I was able to get it onto that bar with it still on the Furby. It was a very tight fit, especially because I still had the tongue on the bar, but it was possible and that’s what matters!

By this time, the pelt was as dyed as it was ever going to get. I definitely lost control of the color but considering I was dying a synthetic under the wrong conditions, I decided that any change at all would be a good change. After I rinsed it, the body was a brownish purple and the mane was a light pink.

I pressed all the water out of the pelt with a towel and air dried it outdoors. After that, the shell and the pelt went back on and Sweetums was complete!

The earrings were some old things I found my jewelry box that I never really open. I’m glad someone is getting use out of my old stuff haha!

And that’s Sweetums! I had some challenges along the way but it was really fun solving the problems I came across. I’d really love to do more of these in the future!