#no makeup will make me look as pretty as him tho lol

[accio-victuuri]

pov : yibo is your makeup artist 🌸

[myvampyrez]

So excited to see a new DMC writer on Tumblr 🎉🎉 could I request just some domestic headcanons with Dante?

domestic dante hc’s 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

dante (devil may cry) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

thank you for this req!! saw the lack of dmc fics and decided to just make some myself lol. hope you guys enjoy my stuff 💕

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

few curse words? just lots of fluff mainly

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ oh my gosh please take care of DANTE because he honestly neglects himself and his place

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine you and dante doing dishes—an activity he absolutely hates—while you tell him all the gossip you find out

❥ he simply gasps and ‘ooh’s at everything, mouth occasionally dropping open at certain scandals

❥ he’s literally the perfect person to gossip with

❥ whatever you do, don’t imagine running your hands through dante’s hair as you lather the shampoo, the suds tinted a dark red and brown from all the blood and grime of his job as he throws his head back with a groan

❥ whatever you do, DON’T imagine dante placing his hands on your waist as he tugs you closer to him, feet coming down from their resting spot on the desk so you could stand between his legs as he looks up at you with gazing blue eyes

❥ i am feral oh my goodness

❥ and definitely don’t imagine tending to the bruises and scrapes that he comes home with

❥ even though dante’s body perfectly capable of healing itself, he loves when you baby him

❥ because he’s at work a lot or is tryna pay off his bills, he loves just coming home and spending time with you when he can

❥ honestly collapses on the couch (or bed, whichever’s closer) and encourages you to join, face still buried in the pillow as he beckons you over with an open hand

❥ if you wear makeup and fall asleep with it on, dante will try his best to clean it off for you

❥ except he’s like.. rlly bad at it lmfao

❥ but the thoughts there!! he’s trying his best 💔💔

❥ the type of guy to call you the cheesiest nicknames tho

❥ like.. babycakes? really 😭?

❥ also gives light swats at your ass if you bend over, i’m sorry but it’s true

❥ likes touching you with at least some part of his body, if you sleep then your legs gotta lock or if you’re on the couch his arms around you

❥ but good luck because this man is a FURNACE

❥ if you have anemia / low iron or like any other condition where you can get pretty cold, this man is your lifeline

❥ read a fic about dante carrying like tons of bags after he spoiled you and went shopping with you despite not even having money to pay bills at the devil may cry and let me just say i am an avid believer of that as well

❥ you’ll literally be walking away from a cute necklace or pair of shoes and then you turn around and think wheres dante?

❥ then you just see him hauling ass towards you as he tries to keep up with all the bags he has in his hands while you spot the small rectangular velvet box in his hands

❥ ugh

❥ i wont him

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

DANTE watched as soft snores fell from your parted lips, hair splayed out below you crazily. he knew those would be a bitch to comb out later, but he couldn’t focus on anything else on the fact that the sunlight was hitting you just right, your skin coated in a deep gold as it reflected off your body.

you could’ve told dante you were an angel, and he would’ve believed you in a heartbeat. he’ll admit, he was a sucker for moments like these. even if seemed odd in retrospect, he just enjoyed seeing you so serene.

his eyes flickered around the room, trying to find a way to occupy his brain without waking you up before they finally fell on the black plastic remote that lay under your head.

dante’s hand slowly inched over, fingers almost tip-toeing their way over to you as he touched the remote. he was careful to pull it from under you, tugging it very slightly despite the weight of your head resting on it.

you stirred, making dante’s eyes widen as he paused his movements and bit his lip, even making a point so as to hold his breath. you licked your lips, dry from sleep as your head turned over to the other side of the pillow, sighing as you felt the coolness beneath your face.

dante exhaled in relief, before grabbing the remote and turning the tv off as he made sure to turn the volume down so you wouldn’t awake. even if a few minutes later you did anyways.

your eyelashes fluttered open as you caught dante muttering something at the tv, his eyes glued to some crappy reality tv show as they cut to an interview of a girl on the show. he scowled when he saw her, to which you softly laughed, tone gravelly from the thick coat of sleep still layering your voice. dante turned his head, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he softly shushed you and coaxed you to go back to sleep.

“‘s alright, just go back to sleep baby.”

“can’t really go back to sleep when you’re shit-talking the contestants, dante.” you smiled at him as he admired you, gazing down upon you as you stretched your limbs and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, attention turning to the tv.

“what season is this?” you asked. dante’s hand never left your hair as his hands ran through it, careful not to snag on any tangles before responding with a quiet, “three.”

and in that moment when you looked back at him, eyes filled to the brim with nothing but adoration, he could’ve sworn his heart had stopped. dante felt as if the sun favored you, because every time you stepped in it, somehow you looked absolutely ethereal.

yeah, dante thought, he liked these small moments you two shared.

myvampyrez™

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this is my only account. there should be no works similar or identical to mine under any name on any other website. i am not on wattpad or ao3 or anywhere else, only tumblr. i do not give permission for my work to be plagiarized, translated, or shared anywhere else unless it is reblogged here on tumblr.

[bby-blu-swirll]

sit on my lap while you do my eyeliner - bakugo x reader

i can't find it now, (i will tho if it kills me) but this is inspired by this tumblr post i saw on my pinterest that was like " 'let me do your eyeliner' gf and 'okay sit on my lap while you do it' bf" lol

pls enjoy xx

bakugo loves your makeup. (he loves your natural face just as much, but he also thinks you look drop dead gorgeous no matter what.)

his favorite days are when you pull out the eyeliner pen. when you look at him and your eyes are rimmed with black, bringing out the hue of your irises, he just folds honestly. subtly, because his pride is too strong to let anybody see him so weak for you, but you've definitely picked up on it.

he loves anything you do with it. a wing, big or small, a messy grungey outline, drawing hearts or stars, anything. he loves watching you do it with such attention to detail and even more loves seeing the finished product and how it might have changed the shape of your eyes. whether it's soft and cute and gives you little doe eyes, or sharp and cutting like a knife, pulling your eyes into dangerous (& admittedly sexy) slits, he adores it.

he doesn't show it much, though. he's not as bad as compliments as you thought he'd be, really, but this is just a bit different.

he can call you pretty, gorgeous, hot, whatever- all he wants. there was no problem there. especially, in front of other people. it was almost like bragging to him.

like once, in the middle of a conversation with the bakusquad, he caught your arm as you were walking by just to press a kiss to your cheek and tell you that you looked beautiful. of course he meant every word of it, but there was a silent emphasis on the fact that he was the one you got to tell you that, and that it was very true. it was like his way of being able to say, "suck it, extras, that beauty is my girlfriend," without sounding like the cocky douchebag he usually did. (bc he knows you don't like it when he's such a cocky douchebag <3)

but complimenting such a specific part of you was a bit more difficult, and he wasn't quite sure how to articulate it. he knew he liked it, but he wasn't sure why. he just thought you looked sexy and sweet like that.

like you did today.

it was one of those lazy saturdays for the both of you, where you slept in a little and kind of just floated through the day, maybe go out maybe not, maybe make out on your bed, who knows.

it was close to half past ten when you were finally up and at your vanity, doing your makeup for the day. your boyfriend was spread out and taking up most of your bed while he studied for the test you had on monday. you thought he was a bit of a nerd for spending one of his only mornings off on school, but you admired his dedication.

neither of you liked silence much, so soft music filled the quiet in your dorm, along with the occasional page turn from bakugo, usually followed by a sigh.

you capped your eyeliner pen with a huff. you had been looking at your face so long, it was hard to tell if it was even. "hey babe?" you turned your swivel chair to face him.

"yeah?" he didn't bother looking up from his book.

you pressed the closed pen to your cheek and blinked a few times. "does this look okay?"

he glanced up for a moment, doing a double take when he saw you. there was no concealer on your dark circles and your eyeliner was smudged underneath your eyes and your lips looked a bit cracked, and he could feel his stomach swell with butterflies the second he looked at you.

"yeah, its.. its perfect." he looked away and cleared his throat, hearing you chuckle slightly.

once you turned around in your chair, his eyes were glued to you. just watching you sort through your makeup tray, trying to find something. the way you knit your brows together, your bottom lip stuck out- his quickly averted his gaze back to his book when you turned to him. he could feel your eyes trained on him as he thumbed the corner the pages.

"hey katsuki?"

he hummed in response, still not looking at you.

you stood up and slowly sauntered towards him, smirking when his eyes flicked up to you every few seconds. you took his book and set it aside.

"the hell are you-" he clenched his jaw when you leaned close to him, still standing. he dropped his voice to a soft tone, just shy of a whisper. "what're you doing, huh?"

"can i do your eyeliner?"

he chuckled and smirked. "'course.."

you grinned and took a seat next to him, your face heating up as his hands found your waist. he lifted you up and set you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. his smirk grew as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"just as long as you sit... here." he pecked your lips, mindlessly stroking his thumb across the skin just above the waistband of your pants. "you can start whenever, babe, i'm not stopping you..."

you huffed and bit the inside of your cheek, internally rolling your eyes. his cocky smirk softened a little when your fingers delicately cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly.

"close your eyes..." you kept your voice low, watching his eyes flutter shut.

his skipped a beat when he felt your breath on his lips. he took deep breaths, just inhaling whatever lotion or perfume had you smelling so good.

you bit your lip and did your best to keep your hand steady. it was hard to keep the lines straight when he would squeeze your hips occasionally. but you prevailed nonetheless, keeping the ink close to the rim of his eyes. you were going for a sort of rodrick look.

"okay.." you clicked your tongue and capped your pen, setting it to the side. "you're done~"

he opened his eyes slowly, a playful look dancing across his features. "well? how do i look?"

your breath caught in your throat. his red eyes glowed, half lidded and staring right into you.

"hmmm..." you brought a hand to his chest, the other messing with the hair at the base of his neck. you traced small circles across his skin. "handsome."

"yeah?" he took your cheek in his hand, pulling you closer to him. "that all?"

you shrugged and chuckled a bit, watching his cocky grin return.

"hm, you think i'm hot. coulda just said so..." he pressed his lips against yours softly, which quickly changed to a rough, demanding kiss.

looks like you did end up making out on your bed,,

totally meant to upload this over a week ago,,, my bad lol i've been very busy, sorry this is so crap lol i'll probably rewrite it in the future <33

love you sm !! stay safe & sleep well 💗💗

[maochira]

holy shit wait i dont even dress lolita (hopefully someday tho cause i love extravagant outfits so much lol :3) but im eating up your scenarios with the bllk boys they're so hueheuehehehehehhehe i love them!!!! would you mind if requested the same idea with oliver, gagamaru, kunigami and zantetsu :D? you can add or remove characters, your freedom. byebye!!!! <3

I love lolita clothes so much!!! Always makes me feel more like myself whenever I wear them 💟

Requests open! - masterlist

Blue Lock boys with a lolita best friend/ s/o! (Part 3)

Part 1 (Barou, Rin, Bachira, Aryu, Tokimitsu)

Part 2 (Shidou, Hiori, Reo, Yukimiya, Nagi)

Tags: gn!lolita!reader, wearing dresses and makeup is mentioned, headcanons can be sees as platonic or romantic - your choice!, ZANTETSU MY PLATONIC BOYFRIEND I LOVE HIM SM!!!

Oliver doesn't get cuteness aggression from many things, but you're certainly one cause of it. He aways hugs you very tightly and squeezes your body a bit to have some sort of relief for the cuteness aggression. He also loves to pinch your cheeks!!! In general, he's very physical with you because he constantly feels an urge to squish you as if you were a plushie. He also loves going shopping for new clothes with you and gets excited whenever you ask him for opinions which dress you should get.

Gagamaru is always amazed by your cute dresses and how pretty you look in them. One day, you wore a bear themed outfit and he went absolutely crazy over it. He constantly wanted to hug and carry you around as if you were a teddy bear. Especially because he's so tall and you're smaller than him, you always come off like a cute doll to him. He's also fascinated every time he watches you doing your makeup!

(A/N: this was inspired by me actually having a bear themed dress HEH)

Kunigami can't help but stare at you every time you're near him. To him, there's no more adorable sight than you running up to him for a hug. He's always very careful, though. He doesn't want to accidentally mess up something about your outfit or your hair. If there's a special occasion, he tries to match your outfit with something he has in his closet. It's hard because of how different his style is, but he tries to get at least the colours close.

Zantetsu tries to come off as cool and serious all the time, but that always breaks when you're near him. His voice always gets a bit higher whenever he talks to you, just like when someone talks to a cute animal. He always tries to be more serious again, but never manages to keep that up for long. You're just too cute for him to stay serious. If you're out in public and someone says something negative about your style, Zantetsu defends you immediately - even though he always messes something up and ends up seeming like an idiot again.

[byou-shin]

hi! ive liked your aesthetic and simstyle for a while and i was wondering if you could give tips or sort of walk thru how you make sims? like the face, makeup, skin details, etc. i have trouble making my male sims look as pretty as yours😭 thank u in advance!

Oh thanks so much for the interest! (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) I'm actually surprised people likes my simstyle....

---- How I make my male sims ----

Let's make this handsome guy with me~

NOTES :

all my male sims (masc or fem looking; Adam, Xion, Moa) are made in masculine frames

I don't use alpha skin, but skin overlays. I find it easier to layer makeup and skin details

all of these are my personal preferences, so back to you again for which you want to take from me

Tutorial undercut

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

One - choosing skin overlay

First thing I always be choosing skin overlay. I always use Obscurus skin, sometimes Darkstone. I don't like cartoonish looking, but I don't make it way too realistic, so I like it in between realistic and animate. I choose other skin details very later.

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

Two - head size & body propotions

a.

After it I choose body preset. After it I will using the EA slider on left whether make it like I want to.

So.. I do really think that EA makes the head size big lol. So I will resize the head using the slider on forehead from afar (zoom out), then make it "slim" by drag the slider to center (still zoom out). Most of the times I max it, but there are sims that I made a liiiiitle bit wider.

See what I mean, right?

b.

If the sim is not tall enough or too short for the character I want to make, I will slider it to using slider in the back of leg

I also slider the back so the sim doesn't have a hunchback. Then usually I will slimmer the neck to max

For fingers I also slide it smaller according to which kind of sim. If I want to make it fragile and delicate, I will slider it to max. If I want to make it masculine still, (or slender) I will slider it until I got the good result I want.

I don't really pay attentions to feet sizes lol, sometimes but rarely, I will slide it smaller or bigger.

c.

Body reshaping is up to my liking actually. Making the shoulders wide or not, it's depend on the sim itself too afterall. So i don't know what to write (u_u;). This guy tho, you can see what I made him like what in introduction post

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

Three - choosing eyebrows & face presets

I do this freely actually, depends on the character itself. There are no differences choosing between masc and fem male sims. All is back to the character, even the jaw and chin presets. I do all that in sliding proccess (making it look feminine or masculine). I use both EA Presets or cc creators presets.

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

Four - eyebrows & face features shaping/sliders

Actually the process is -> chose preset for one feature -> shape it -> chose preset for another feature -> shape it, but ye lol :3

a.

For eyes, I always slider them smaller, usually max or near to max. Depends again. Sometimes I imagine few sims to extra eyelids tape that makes eyes appear really big (see : Taiga & Asakusa).

If you notice it, in this post my sims have different eye sizes

b.

For nose, usually I will make bigger or smaller as I like (depends on character). But the important is to keep the ratio of the face nicely. Don't make the nose too high or too low. There should be enough gap for lips and nose.

*btw I did the change of skin color after hand reshaping

c.

For eyebrows, is as I said above. Also, it's all depend on the sim face and the makeup look (especially for my vkei sims), so idk what should I say (*´・▿・)ゞ

d.

For mouth, i always make it smaller a bit using the slider on corner of mouth (face zoom out), and make it wider as needed (face zoom out). I always make my sims have relaxed mouth, not frowning but not smiling either. Zoom in shaping is also used of course.

e.

For chin, cheeks, jawline etc. Pay attention to it. I slider it little by little as needed. Chin doesn't have to be small. But for this guy, I made it a lil bit smaller. See the chin or jaw shapes in this post.

f.

Important!! I always size up or down(? the head until it have nice ratio with the teeth. (zoom out face)

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

Four - choosing skin details (face & body)

Honestly I do this freely.... if it fits then it fits... lol. Oh also in this part, if I think I should change the skin overlay, then i do it.

a.

Eye details -> if the skin overlay has no eyelids and I want the sim to have it, i'll give them eyelids cc. If I want the sim has eyebags I will give it. Just tiiiiny bit detail. Eyelids cc I use is from Dalsuk and Obscurus. Alsooo, this one is important, I use sclera cc too. I also use eyedepth sometimes.

Also katrina-y eyesocket is good. Sometimes i use it. (See: Xion & Asakusa)

b.

Nose mask/details -> I use nosemask from Obscurus and ddarkstone, faeesih. Depending which suit the best. Not much given to the nose actually.

c.

Mouth details -> i use mouth/smile mask(? from miiko and pralinesims (not always, only if needed). This guy used from miiko

d.

hairline -> I use from setsuki (this time I forgot to gave him hairline but it doesn't show since the hair was covering..

f.

body details -> it depends on the character.. (again). I recommed moonchildlovesthenight abs mask if you want to make muscular sim. This guy though, I didn't add anything to body details.

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

After reshaping face features and add skin details~ I really like the nose.

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

Five - makeup

How should I describe this part? ( ;´ - `;) it depends on the sim itself. What do you want them to be? But I prepared two option

One is "heavy" look type, like.. some neo-vkei bandmen (I was trying to imitate one of Shiyu from Ashmaze makeup :'D. I need more makeup cc..). But you can also look at my other sims. "Heavy" makeup will carry the atmosphere the sim gives. Take look at Nozomi in this post. He looks mysterious, dark and gloomy.

I will list the makeup cc used, but I'm too tired to link.. zzzzzz

So when i saved this guy I actually deleted the first makeup look... I forgot to add the eyelashes back again..

[BBSims] blush1 RemusSirion_Lipstick_195_Hydra JIUJIANWU 晕染眼影 [PARISE]SelenaEyes(UNNATURALS)

Two is natural beauty type of way. Fresh look. The type to wake up with perfect face, even he was drooling in the sleep. (still depends on the sim characters! In this case, he's the type of people who only uses concealer to hide the face "imperfections").

Makeup cc used.

obscurus_lips_N12 ddarkstonee_eyelashes_N5 [baekbobohu] 04Eyes

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

Other tips

Give your male sims eyelashes! Big or not, natural or not.

Use every prossible sliders that is available!

Slide the pupil to imagine them wear big ass contact lens :D (See: Taiga & Asakusa)

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

DONE~

whew,, this took me at least 7-ish hours...

so yeah.. I...... hope this helps...?

^_^; .....................

[queenofmistresses]

I want you there

a/n requested by anon! so excited to write all of these requests, I think I’ll keep them in the order of the request on the ask just to help me out lol! Hope you like them!!!!!!!!! Unfortunately I can’t write like I’m it’s based in Ireland- i was raised to talk like i’m middle class even tho we’re poor 😂

I was getting so excited for prom. I had picked my dress, decided how I was doing my hair, and makeup, everything. It was all planned out. It was amazing.

Until James told me that the Doctor Who convention is on the same day. Right when I’d finally plucked up the courage to ask him. What am I meant to do now? I was so excited, even if we were going as friends. It was going to be one of the best nights of my life.

Now, I’m stuck with the guys who asked me. A guy who is an absolute arsehole. Apparently I would rather go with him than alone. I don’t want to go alone. Not after I told Michelle how excited I was about who my date was going to be- avoiding the fact that it’s her cousin.

So here I am. Waiting on the steps in my house. In the dress I spent hours choosing and taking in to fit perfectly. My hair perfect, my make up perfect. And my date barely having spoken to me since he asked me out.

Oh. And he’s late.

Maybe it’s better if he’s late. Maybe it’s better if be doesn’t come at all. Maybe I should take everything off and tell my mum to pretend I’m sick if he does come.

I give up pretty quickly, I never wanted to go with him. I sigh and head up to my room. I stand in my room for a bit, just staring at my reflection in the mirror. I had never felt like I looked nice in anything I wore before. But I went all out. I saved every penny I could so I’d be happy with how I look.

But the more I keep staring at myself, the more I hate how I look. The longer I stand there, the more imperfections I see. I don’t know how long I stay there but before I know it I’m crying. All my friends were out having fun, probably not even noticing that I’m not there. And James is probably having fun at his convention.

I want to take everything off, get into my pyjamas, curl into bed and sleep. Then I can forget about this night completely. I start with my hair, slowly taking the pins out and letting my hair fall down.

Before I get very far I hear a knock on my door. Already frustrated I yell out, “Mum I told you I’m fine. I’m just going to bed and I’ll forget about it.”

“Um- y/n? It’s James.” I hear in response. I quickly scram to wipe my face.

“Hold on! I’m um- changing!” I yell out. When I’ve done the best job I can (which isn’t a very good one to be honest), I open the door and am faced with James. In a suit. And a Doctor Who scarf. With his hair done. Looking so, so handsome.

“James? What are you- why are you- huh?” I splutter out, unable to gather my thoughts.

“Wow. You look amazing. I- wow.” That takes me by surprise. After a moment he shakes his head and realises I’m still waiting for an answer. “Oh! Your mum called, she said your date didn’t show up.”

“Oh. It um really doesn’t matter. I didn’t like him anyway.”

“T-then why do you look like you’ve been crying.” I chuckle at that.

“It doesn’t matter. What about your Doctor Who convention? You were so excited for it.” He shrugs.

“I’ll go to the next one. Do you er, wanna go to prom together?” I almost start crying again at that. He looks so goddamn handsome, I want to mess his hair though.

“I look a mess, you’ll have to give me 10 minutes to fix all this.” I indicate towards my face. He walks towards me, just a few steps, looking almost nervous. “But yes, I’d love to.” He breathes out, smiling. “You can just sit on the bed if you like, and I’ll um try to fix this.”

He nods a little and sits on the bed while I get started on pinning my hair back. I think I can feel him staring at me, one quick glance tells me I’m right. “What?” I laugh, seeing him just watching me.

“You’re just- pretty. I mean you always are but you put a lot of effort into it and you just. You look perfect.” I can’t not blush at that, so I look away and finish off the look.

“Ready?” I ask him. He stands up and holds his hand out for me to take. I slide my hand into his and smile, standing up.

“Let’s go then.”

[dumb-doll-lips]

How did the sleepover go? (Other than the dead battery of course)

Because I do try to write about times im getting fucked, using this as an appropriate to try to include what all I can remember.

It was a lot of fun. I went over to his place. After just a little bit of saying hello and stuff, went straight into getting fucked for the first time of the night. He fucked me from behind while I was bent over the bed. I was trying to not have my face on the bed a lot bc we were gonna go get food after and didn’t want to mess up my makeup, which was silly of me. He smacked me ass a lot, and pushed my face into the bed some. I sucked his cock some next, again I was like trying to not be too messy about it to not mess up my makeup too bad and even said something, but at some point he held me down on his cock some and I was gagging a bunch. I think that’s when I gave up on my makeup. He then fucked me on my back, had my feet over his shoulders some first I think, and then liked varied. Had a bit of choking and getting slapped, and some very hot dirty talk around needing him to fill me w cum, I think he like called me a slut some and saying stuff about being his to use and so on. And def got filled w his cum. I really like that it’s like pretty common for me to cum the same time the guy is fucking me does. I def think it feels way good being filled with cum.

I cleaned up some and fixed my makeup, and sipped on a martini a little while chatting a little before we went out to pick up some Greek food. Tho I got a shawarma wrap instead of like a gyro, I don’t think shawarma is Greek. Idk. It was yum. I haven’t had mediterrean or middle eastern food it far too long for how much I like it. We went back to his place to eat and put on the movie nefarious, I wouldn’t say it was a good movie, but it was a fun one to talk during and like be kinda annoyed w lol. After the movie I got changed into this cute floral mesh set, that was like somewhere between lingerie and pajamas, little shorts and top that was held together by a little hook between my tits. And then we did kinda just browse movies and watch some trailers. My top managed to come undone a couple times…which led nicely into getting fucked again.

I don’t super remember the start of things but I know I was on top early on, and then at some points more like on my side and back. More light choking and some slapping and had a pillow over my face some and I think he had my hands pinned down some, but like most hot of all, there was some breeding talk. God that like always gets me, like when it first comes up I feel like my brain always is like short circuiting, and def much more so while getting fucked so well. So off course got filled w cum again. And then went to sleep.

And then was very fun to start the day getting fucked again. I feel like I don’t remember as much from this time. I remember he started w just teasing me some and when fingering me he said something about how wet I was. And more being cummed in too.

Shortly after I’m getting ready to head home and then find out my car door was open the hole time and that my battery was dead. Def felt soo dumb about that. Neither of us had cables (he’s in the tail end of moving and they weren’t here) or really new how (but like he was like saying he’d be able to look it up and stuff, but no cables). So I had to call my dad to come rescue me. My mom also then called me and I heard that she was like mad I didn’t call her instead of my dad which was like why? Did make things more annoying. But like overall def was all a really fun time.

Wow this took like forever to write lol.

[pokegalla]

Idk why but i recently got back into UT content again, and x readers are inevitable— been stalking your works lol

Anyways, i am self endulgent and need comfort—

So, requesting just a little something with the Bad Sanses with a reader who is a very dressy and traditionally "girly" person, they love pink, they love poofy Lolita style dresses, they love playing around with fun make up designs and hair styles— but suddenly stopped wearing their usual fun and expressive get up due to someone insulting their behavior and fashion

Hope this isn't too much— love your writing tho! You're very good at it :]

Thank you! And Yo saaaaaame. I actually forgotten Undertale for quite some time and when Deltarune chapter 2 rolled around….well here I am with a whole blog! Now I can’t escape. I’m stuck now. And I’m bringing dat ass down with me- (I’m going to take a break from requests but I still did your request since you asked before I declared the break so I felt it would be unfair if I didn’t Y’know? So I hope you like it!)

Bad Sanses with Girly!Reader who suddenly stops expressing themselves

* They were pretty used to your bright colors and girly outfits. There were times Error would knit some dresses for you. Horror would help brush your hair while Dust styled it. Killer helped with your makeup (those anime cosplays of his helped contribute on this). Nightmare found your actions a bit too cutesy so it leaves him annoyed but he’s also the one who spoils you the most (clothes, makeup, accessories, he splurges once he finds some good stuff he knows you’ll love.)

* Nightmare could sense a lot of negativity in his office one day. He goes to the kitchen to see everyone peeping in from the doorway. They all jump noticing him but pointed out to you: their main cause of worry. There you sat with no trace of your usual attire or energy to match it. In fact your energy matched your current look: tired and gloomy. A complete reverse.

* You refused to tell anyone what happened. It made you feel a bit bad when they tried cheering you up. Killer tried his usual jokes, Horror with his cooking, Dust with his worried stare, even Error was willing to give up some of his precious chocolate to cheer you up. Unfortunately you just didn’t feel up to it. So they go to their last hope: Nightmare.

* Obviously he didn’t want to get involved and was enjoying the negativity but even his team knew he was concerned for your well-being as well. So he manages to talk to you and you finally admit that someone had insulted the way you acted and dressed and now you didn’t feel comfortable. It was obvious that you still wanted to but whatever that person said to you, it really upset you.

* Yo….tell me how everyone just dresses you up in your usual outfit. And they all hang around you suggesting all of you would take a small walk together. A bit terrifying for other strangers to see you heavily guarded but you actually felt safe. The person from before unfortunately spotted you and started talking that shit. The absolute FEAR in their eyes when the murder trio circled in on them. They only scared them off but I doubt they’ll let them go Scott free either (don’t expect seeing them ever again after that….)

* You all go home and they made you promise to tell them next time and that you are amazing just the way you are!

Mini Story Time!!!

Everyone was muttering while you and the Bad Sanses walked down the street. You felt so nervous….all their eyes on you….were they judging you? You felt Horror and Dust hold your hands and Nightmare’s tentacle gently wrap around your waist.

“Calm yourself….there is nothing to be afraid of,” Nightmare said softly, “Take deep breathes.” You did as he told and your nerves became calmer. You felt safe near them….much more comfortable.

“Oh great. That weirdo again,” The voice made you freeze up. Not again….The person that insulted you before approached the group, “Still wearing that crap? You look like a freaking clown. Makes sense when you have the whole circus following you around.” The person laughed along with some friends but went rigid when the murder trio surrounded them. Their friends also froze up.

“Heh….that’s a good one,” Killer said raising a knife to their face, “Since you wanna be a little jokester, why don’t I paint a nice big smile across that face? A proper clown has to make a biiiiiig smile~!”

Horror and Dust teleported behind them, hands on their shoulders. With their glowing eye lights and dark aura was enough to elicit a horrified scream as they ran off, their friends following suit. The skeletons were going to give chase but Nightmare stopped them.

“No need. I believe they have gotten the message. Besides best if we do it….another time. Wouldn’t want to scare our human here,” Nightmare explained.

“Heh….sure thing boss,” Dust said cackling a bit.

“You really didn’t have to….,” You said in a low voice.

But Nightmare heard, “It was absolutely necessary. Can’t let others think it’s ok to mess with our human now would we?”

You sigh but smile sweetly, “Thank you! You guys are the best!”

Error smiled, “There’s our human.”

“Aw you even got glitchy boi here all smiley,” Killer teased.

“Wha-?! S-shut up! Tear stained freak….,” Error grumbled.

You laughed making them all relieved to see you were already feeling much better. They all hugged you (well Error squeezed your hand. His own unique way Y’know?) and showered you with compliments.

“Alright….,” You giggling before hugging them back just as warmly, “Let’s go home.”

[evans-heaven]

Scene ; Joseph Quinn

Leave it to me to see one comment asking for a full fic based on one of my Moments drabbles and actually write that shit 😭 I've been working on this piece for weeks and I'm pretty happy with how I left it so here it is for your reading pleasure ;)

Before we start, a couple of things:

This is pre-Feelings (tho reader is very much in love here but doesn't realize it)

The death scene is from the POV of Stacey, your character, and is mostly my dialogue bc i tried watching the actual clip and got less than 10 seconds in before i started crying 🙃 so I'm not gonna torture myself like that y'all sorry lol

Reader is portrayed as having anxiety and overthinks a lot, kinda like in Feelings. I write her like this bc that's pretty much how I am in real life about my own thoughts, feelings, and basically everything else. Aaannnd that's basically it lmao

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings: Unedited content, strong language, ANGST, description of Eddie's death scene, mentions of blood, mild depictions of anxiety, some fluff, and touching, duh ;)

wc: 3.6k

I already linked the other two fics so read Touch here

Pt 2 here

Prior to this day, you had your assumptions that actors filming a death scene would be pretty tough. 

But, now that you were in a position where you yourself would be at the borderline center of one, ‘tough’ was kind of an understatement. 

‘Tough’ wasn’t nearly a suitable enough word to describe having to cradle your co-star who was covered in prosthetic wounds and fake blood as he sputtered out I love you’s and goodbye’s, and then ‘died’ in your arms. 

Maybe ‘tough’ would be the appropriate term here, if said co-star wasn’t your best fucking friend and the person you were undoubtably closest with on set. Him dying in your arms, even if it was just for the screen, was still an experience that would feel way too real-even if you tried to remind yourself that, at the end of the day, it wasn’t. No matter how true to life it would seem. No matter how damn realistic those wounds looked (why the fuck did Amy and her team have to be so talented?), and no matter how fucking incredible Joe Quinn was at pretending to die. 

The words ‘calm down’ echoed in your head like a broken record all day. They had blended into one, to the point where they were incoherent and didn’t seem to make sense. Thus, they did very little to offer comfort. 

The day had been frustrating, to put it lightly. But, at least you had Joe.

That morning, during your daily-or hourly-sanctioned bear hug, your heartbeat was so strong he practically heard it pulsing in his ears. That alone told him your anxiety would be working double time that day. It was a serious pain in the agss sometimes.

You and Joe had always been attached at the hip over the last year and some, always hanging off of each other in some way or another. And today, it was with good reason attached to it-not that (consensual) physical touch ever had to have a purpose other than wanting to be close. Having that gentle contact, even if it was just a hand on your shoulder-was more than enough to ground you and halt the overactive thoughts-even if for a couple of minutes.

Although he’d say he was only trying to comfort you, it was obvious your embraces and touches held mutual benefit. Just as he was able to sense your anxiety, you could sense his. The sweaty palms when your fingers laced together during breakfast and lunch weren’t from you, nor were the goosebumps you felt against your collarbones when he held you from behind after you got your makeup done for the scene. This showed you that, despite acting his ass off during rehearsals, it didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

But, in typical heartthrob-from-a-90s-novel-written-by-a-woman fashion, all his energy was put into making you feel better, comforted, and assured that everything would be okay. Even if he had no idea what the true driving force was behind your anxiousness.

You couldn’t have asked for a better on screen boyfriend. Stacey Miller-Rhodes was a damn lucky gal. Well, up until her boyfriend got chunks of his flesh ripped from his body by demobats. Meaning he died. Meaning Eddie was gone.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

A sharp knock on your trailer door interrupted your useless mantra, as you jolted, just a little, before giving permission for whoever to enter.

In walked Matt and Ross, warm smiles on their faces. It didn’t do much to ease you, because you knew why they were here. 

“Hey, Y/N, you ready?” Ross asked. Matt stood by the door keeping it open, since it was time to go. 

You nodded. “Yep,” your voice was even, masking the heavy feeling in your throat. You were not ready.

“Figured we’d come get you ourselves, Joe’s busy with makeup on set, for, you know-”

“I know. Thanks,” you said quickly, cutting Matt off. “Let’s get going, then,” you said, standing up and walking past Matt, exiting your trailer. You heard the door shut softly and their footsteps following behind you.

You were being short with them, but that was because you really only wanted Joe at this moment. Unfortunately, he was currently being ‘deadified’ on set, which is where you were now headed. You two had a little cuddle session in your trailer, where he held you tight and layed kiss after kiss on your forehead, cooing that it would be okay and that you would both be fine. After that, he had to go to the makeup trailer to get his prosthetic wounds applied. The process had taken hours, and then he had to film the scene where Eddie actually got attacked by the bats. This meant it had been a while since you saw him last. So, his mamed and mangled appearance awaited you, when the last time you saw him, he was totally unharmed and at ease.

You entered the building, in which there were only a chosen few people. It was a closed set, just you, Joe, and the necessary crew members. The Duffers believed that because a death scene with a couple was so intimate, you and Joe were the only actors that should be on set. 

That, you were thankful for. You were your best self when it was just you and Joe, so you could be your best ‘acting self’, when it was just the two of you as well.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to the ‘Upside Down’, a set made to look like the particular spot in the alternate universe where everything would go down. It was tinted blue and almost sent a chill down your spine to look at, from how cold uninviting, and eerie the general vibe of the scenery was. And a little depressing, which was pretty fitting. The backdrop was a blue screen, which would be used to add the background of the setting, to make everything look as real as possible.

You spotted Joe in the middle of the set, the makeup team applying fake blood to his very real looking wounds. 

“C’mon, we wanna talk to you and Joe for a second before we start,” Matt told you, and as much as that made sense, you wished Joe was more than just a few feet away so you could prepare a little more for seeing him….like that, outside of the context of the scene. 

“Okay,” you said as you three began walking towards him just as makeup finished up their job. When you got to him, you felt yourself tense up at his appearance as you lingered back, just a little bit. He stood awkwardly with his arms slightly hovering away from his body, clearly not wanting to disrupt the fake damage. You could tell from the sight before you that with how much fake blood the team used, those demobats would really do a number on Eddie.

You hated those little CGI bastards.

“Hey,” Joe said, gaining your attention, though his tone was light. You met his eyes, narrowly avoiding the blood streaking the lower half of his face.

“Hi,” you said back, feeling just a little bit of air release from your lungs, not even remembering when you took a breath in. You wanted to make a sarcastic quip to lighten the mood, but words failed you. You didn’t really feel like being funny right now.

“So, you guys remember how the scene goes, Eddie just sacrificed himself and got attacked by the bats, and Stacey runs up to him afterward and sees his body laying there, barely alive, covered in blood and wounds,” Matt began.

You curled your lips in and nodded stiffly, feeling the slightest of shocks run through your body. Calm down.

“I know you two are gonna kill this scene,” Matt continued. “No one understands or could have brought to life Eddie and Stacey better than the two of you,” he said warmly, clamping hands down on both your shoulders. Yours was tense under his touch and Stacey’s clothing.

You had to admit, though, he was right. You had a lot of input into Stacey’s character, taking her from Eddie’s shy girlfriend who was just a tool to enhance how eccentric he was, to a girl with a backstory and reasons for her reserved nature. Knowing Stacey’s history would make the scene even more gut wrenching to film. A girl raised in a household with a domineering step-father who believed women should be seen and not heard, who made her life a living hell under the watchful eye of her mother who did nothing to stop it. Upon turning 18 she left him and his toxicity behind, but carried the burden of years of being forced to subdue herself. Eddie got her to open up to him, but she still carried herself quietly around others. The fear of judgment was damaging.

Because of how much you put into Stacey and the influence you had on her storyline, you knew none of your nervousness had to do with how you’d perform in the scene. You were confident in your abilities as an actress and knew you could carry this scene with the help of Joe perfectly. 

“Thanks, guys, that means a lot,” you said to them, gripping the moto jacket you wore, canonically taken by Stacey from Eddie’s closet. 

“Yeah, truly, we’ve come a long way from me thinking I would completely ruin the show,” Joe chuckled, the smile on his face juxtaposed by the blood caking it. It was actually kind of off putting.

“Alright, well, let’s get this show on the road!” Mat clapped his hands and walked with his brother offset.

More like let’s get this over with. You were about to walk off to get in your spot, when Joe grabbed your hand gently, stopping you. You turned to face him, brows raised expectantly.

“You good?” he asked.

Deciding to keep this short and sweet, you settled for a quick nod, and a soft ‘yeah’. Satisfied, he released your hand so you could go to your place, just as one of the Duffers yelled “Places!” 

When you got to your mark, you looked over to Joe one more time, who was already looking your way. You could feel the intensity of his stare from where you stood, those gorgeous brown eyes and the way they sparkled no matter the lighting or setting. He gave you a smile, and you returned one, unable to ever not do so. It managed to give you a new found confidence you lacked just seconds prior. He took his position on the ground, and then, it was time.

There was no turning back once it began. Unless you swiveled on your heels and ran in the opposite direction, which was tempting. 

Once it happened, everything you were worried about could become a possibility to follow suit.

You sucked in an unstable breath and closed your eyes, savoring a final moment of calm before those two little word were uttered-

“And….ACTION!”

You took off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stacey’s heart was ramming against her ribcage the moment she re-entered the upside down, but when she saw her boyfriend lying limp on the cold, wet ground, she swore her legs would give out as her heart seemed to cease in its entirety. 

He had gone back. He wanted to be a hero. He didn’t want to run anymore, but God, she wished he did.

“Eddie!” Stacey called out, voice unstable and legs threatening to give out from underneath her as she sprinted towards him. Somewhere in the corner of her mind that was swarming with fears of what would happen to him, she began to pray to whoever there was that could hear her and help him.

Please let him be okay. Please. Please. Please.

“Ed, babe, oh my God,” Stacey whispered, and fell to her knees before his broken down form. His torso was torn to shreds, his Hellfire shirt almost completely soaked with blood from his wounds. She took hold of him and pulled the upper half of his body into her lap, feeling the red substance begin to seep through her jeans.

The demo bats surrounded the two of them, incapacitated, laying limp on the floor of the upside down-taunting you. Blissfully unaware that they had probably just taken the love of Stacey's life away from her, brutally, with no remorse, as he tried so desperately to be the hero, not the coward he convinced himself he was.

“Ed, are you with me? Can you hear me?” Stacey asked him softly, not wanting to scare him. She brushed his hair from his face and tried to meet his eyes, his gaze unfocused and teary.

Eddie’s voice came out shaky and weak from his blood coated mouth, his cheeks smeared with it. “I did it,” he choked out. “I didn’t run anymore,”

There was no denying he felt some semblance of pride at what he did, and because of that, Stacey couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though the tension in the noise was palpable. “Yeah, yeah baby, you’re so brave,” she told him.

The proud smile he bore was distorted by a look of pain as he shifted slightly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he groaned, in clear discomfort.

One of her hands applied pressure to one of the many wounds that marred his torso as he shivered in her arms. “No, no babe, it’s fine, you're gonna be okay,” she stumbled out, trying to sound as confident in her words as possible, when everything about the situation told her that her words were not the truth. “We just….we just need to get to you to a hospital and everything’s gonna be okay, Ed, don’t worry,”

“No. I think this was it, baby,” he met his girlfriend’s gaze, his jaw trembling as more blood dribbled out the sides of his mouth as he took in barely there, labored breaths. “This was finally my year,”

Stacey choked out helpless cries, caressing his face, and shaking her head. This couldn’t be his year, this couldn’t be the way it ended. He was supposed to finally graduate and the two of them were supposed to get the hell out of Hawkins together, away from all the bullshit media propaganda and pearl clutching PTA moms. They were going to get out of there and be happy together. That was how it was supposed to fucking be, goddammit.

“No,” Stacey gritted.“This isn’t over yet, you’re gonna be okay, Ed,” she nodded stiffly, lips trembling as salty tears flowed into the seam. “We’re just gonna wait a little until the others get here, then we’re gonna carry you out of this hellhole and take you to a hospital, and the doctors there are going to fix you, baby, they’re going to make the bleeding go away, and stitch you up and give you some meds, and then you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she chanted weakly as her cheeks became soaked with tears. She wanted to speak it into existence, even as reality clawed and fought its way to the front of her mind.

“Baby,” he cooed. He placed a cold hand on hers, the one that still pressed against one of his wounds, gripping it weakly. Always the one who wanted to comfort her, even if he needed it way more in this situation. “I’ve fulfilled my duty as Eddie the Banished, I didn’t run, and I saved the town,” he told her. 

“That town doesn’t deserve your sacrifice, Eddie,” Stacey argued pathetically.

“I saved you,” he stressed, making it known that this act was with only one person at the forefront as motivation, the rest of the town behind her. “And you’re worth it, Stacey. You’re so. Fucking. Worth it,” he said to her, lacing their fingers together, pulling the back of her hand up to his lips, and pressing a bloodied kiss to the cold, dirty skin. 

“I love you so much,” he said as firmly as his shutting down body would let him.

It hurt her to not say those words back, but she knew why he said them, and she didn’t want to accept this as the end.

“Ed, don't you dare say goodbye,” she told him through her tears, trying to sound strong and sure, but it wasn’t possible. “This isn’t the end for you, this isn’t the end for us,” she said.

“Stacey, baby, I want you to listen to me,” Eddie began, the wobble in his voice impossible to ignore now as he tried to raise his head as much as he could, wanting her to truly take in his next words. “When you go back, I want you to go home and pack all of your shit, as much as you can carry, and I want you to get on the next bus out, because you’re gonna leave that shithole Hawkins. You’re gonna tell that place to kiss your ass and you’re gonna run like hell out of there without so much as a single glance back,”

Stacey shook her head, understanding where this was headed, not wanting to hear a word more. “Ed, no-”

“You’re gonna find some place for the both of us, somewhere where the people aren’t shallow minded assholes, where we can be whoever the fuck we want to be with each other, and I want you to live your life everyday as you would have if I was there,’

“Eddie, I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. I don’t want you to cave back into yourself, baby. You’re the most beautiful, brilliant, incredible human being I’ve ever met and everyone deserves to know you and appreciate you as you are. Do you hear me?”His proclamation to her ended with that simple question, and he left no room for argument. 

She absorbed all his words, every letter, every syllable, struggling to accept that the life they wanted to have together, would have to continue on without him. The life she wanted with him would totally and completely absolve her from the one she had growing up. Could she do it? Could she move on?

Those answers remained to be determined, but the one thing she absolutely couldn’t do was argue with him anymore. She just didn’t have it in her to deny him his dying wish, or keep fighting what he had already accepted.

Closing her eyes, more droplets fell, mixing with his blood. She felt herself nodding before she could even consider another response in her mind. “Yeah,” she whispered in a watered down voice. “Yeah, baby, I hear you,” she opened her eyes and met his own once more. 

“Good,” he replied. “Good,” his voice was noticeably more floaty that time.

They fell silent. They just looked into one another’s eyes, exchanging so many words and feelings that would completely consume what little time they had left together. His hand was still laced with hers, pressed against his chest, where she could feel his weakening heart beat.

“I love you so much,” he repeated his words from earlier, breaking the hauntingly peaceful quiet. It was barely above a whisper practically mouthed, but she heard him, loud and clear. And as soon as those words came out, he looked ahead blankly, his eyes slowly beginning to lose the light in them Stacey loved so much.

“Eddie, no, please,” she gritted, tears dripping from her eyes uncontrollably. “Stay with me, baby, please,” she pleaded urgently, brushing more of his damp hair out of the way and patting his cheek lightly, trying to get him to remain alert….alive. She just wanted one more moment with him. Just one. 

But then, she felt it.

His body stilled.

His grip on her hand went limp.

His eyes lost any life left in them.

“Eddie,” she whimpered, hand remaining on his cheek. Her body shook uncontrollably as she let the tears fall freely onto him, her agony and pain taking over as she held his lifeless form close to hers. She repeated his name through her cries, trying to wake him, trying to make this nightmare end. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to his, wanting to feel him as close as possible, for what was the very last time.

“I love you, too,” Stacey whispered, her lips touching the skin between his eyebrows. If those words meant anything anymore, she wanted it to be at this moment. 

Because she truthfully didn’t know when-or if- she would ever say them again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“CUT!”

It was like a switch went off in you, as reality made its presence known once more. 

The scene was done, the Duffers yelled cut, it was over.

However, the moment fully sank in when Joe rose up and took your hands in his, pulling you upright and bringing you into a warm embrace. You didn’t care about the fake blood that would get all over your front or the fact that his back was soggy and caked with damp dirt, you threw your arms around him and held on tightly, rivaling the hold he had on you.

“You did so incredible, babes, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered in your ear, his long fingers running up and down your sides lightly, almost tickling, but you reveled in it and his touch. You closed your eyes blissfully as you came down from your high, feeling the tears drying on your face, thankful makeup used waterproof eye makeup. 

“Yeah, you too,” you said back for his ears only, as the Duffers and the rest of the crew approached you both. You let each other go, though his arm remained on the small of your back, as everyone began delivering their praise. The voices became so jumbled you could barely register who said what. So, you just smiled and nodded and gave your gratitude along with Joe, whose hand rubbed soothing circles against your waist.

Now, to face reality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 where Joe and reader discuss why she was so nervous coming Saturday 🥰 it was originally part of this fic, but it was getting way too damn long, so a split was needed lol. Stay tuned Joe girlies 😘

[barbiewritesstuff]

Wife, girlfriend or Whatever: Chapter 3

-- I'm alive lol! I would like to apologise for how long this took me, the rest should be faster but omg life just kicked my butt these past few days (weeks really :/) Hopefully I should be back on track tho!!!

Also a huge thanks to the wonderful @lgg5989 who beta read this :D you're the best bestie!!!

Previous Part

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2 @feedthemadness-sweetie @ravensmadreads @lgg5989 @mslizziesblog @littlebadariell --

You hurriedly brushed your teeth before changing yet again, removing the dress and opting for a thick pair of tights, a nice long skirt and thermal, albeit flattering black top. Being a Texas native, you had never fared well in the cold, and even like that you were scared you’d end up with the flu. Still, time was running out and if you didn’t set out soon, you’d be late in the lobby. Before stepping out of your room, you quickly applied the bare minimum of makeup you usually allowed yourself to walk out of the house with and made sure your lipstick wouldn’t budge by blotting it against a tissue. 

You rushed out to meet him, but as usual, you found you were the first one there. Beau, despite his reputation as a stickler for the rules, rarely made it anywhere on time if you weren’t there to annoy him into hurrying up. Sometimes herding Beau Simpson to and from places on a tight schedule felt more like performing a series of very impressive minor miracles. As organised as he was – and you were sure he must be, because the base ran fine before you started working there – he was more than comfortable relaxing when he knew you were handling things. Not that you minded, you really quite enjoyed it, but you sometimes worried that the stress of it all would encourage a few early white hairs. Although, if you had told Cyclone, he would have remedied that in the blink of an eye, so perhaps the fault was on you.

The lobby was warm, heated up by a roaring fire near the reception desk. You moved closer to it, turning around to warm yourself up evenly, but every time you faced the large glass doors and saw the white coat of snow New York was sporting, the heat lost a little of its appeal. You had seen snow before but only in movies and commercials and the need to know if it was just like you had imagined was too great to ignore. 

You stepped outside into Time Square, letting the cold air hit your face and redden your cheeks before squatting down next to the two small christmas trees decorating the left side of the hotel’s main entrance. You removed your glove and put it in your pocket before gently lowering your hand into the snow under the amused gaze of one of the Edison’s uniformed doormen. 

“First time?” Beau asked, appearing behind you, scaring you enough that you lost your balance. You fell hand first in the snow. The footman lunged forward to help you up, but Beau was faster. He slipped one hand under your arm and lifted you up. 

“It feels funny,” you said, “I thought it would feel softer. This is so gritty.”

You shook your hand free of whatever clumps of snow had clung to it but some debris remained, to dry it and make him pay, you wiped your hand on his beautiful black velvet trench coat. 

“It’s mostly ice, I think. Plenty of people have walked through it, it’s probably more like city slushie by now,” he replied, amused at your small act of revenge, “We’ll find you some nice snow.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, the hand you had fallen on now cold and pale, “Do snowball fights hurt? They look so fun,” you asked, putting your glove back on. 

“Depends, snow is pretty nice but ice is so painful. My family has a snowball fight on Christmas day every year. The first one to go inside would lose and be on chores duty for a week. My brother, because he’s a cheater, used to pack his snowballs with ice and throw them straight at me, I used to get bruises the size of my hands all over my legs and arms,” he laughed. 

“Must be nice,” you smiled.

“It is. We tone it down nowadays, my siblings have young children so we have to be careful,” he said, returning your smile. 

“Such a good uncle,” you patted his arm, “You seeing them for Christmas?”

“Yes, can’t wait to get another round of ‘oh Beau, still single?’” he groaned, “Can’t get you to be my fake wife for that one too, I suppose?” 

“Depends,” you replied, “What’s on the menu?”

He chuckled, “A traditional dinner, board games, roasting smores by the fire and outrageous amounts of Christmas music,” he said.

“And a snowball fight?” you questioned. 

“Obviously,” he said, his voice deep and convincing. 

“Christmas mass?” you questioned again. 

“No,” he replied, “We’re not – you know… Are you?”

“Sure,” you replied, not meeting his eye, suddenly scared it would change things. Your faith was private to you and you’d never advertised it, revealing it amounted to telling him one of your most precious secrets. It was only normal for you to be nervous.

“We were just never raised that way,” he said, wincing at the awkwardness of the situation. 

“That’s fine,” you replied, “We were.”

He let out a surprised, “Oh,” under his breath. 

“One of the only two things my mother and I agree on,” you volunteered, “Ain’t nothing in the whole wide world like a Southern girl, and fighting’s best done on your knees.”

You looked at Beau, who had suddenly turned bright red, “Oh you pig!” you exclaimed, hitting his shoulder with the back of your hand. 

Someone cackled behind him and you looked around to find the doorman and a valet. The valet, a young man of about your age, at least had the decency to turn around and shove his fist in his mouth to keep himself from laughing, but the doorman was turning purple, silently screaming in laughter. 

“I hope you’re laughing at him,” you told them, they suddenly turned very serious.

“Yes ma’am,” the valet said.

“Yes ma’am,” the door man agreed, hiccuping as he tried to stop one last bubble of laughter from coming up to the surface. 

“I’m sorry,” Beau said, having composed himself, “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“You’re late,” you stated, turning your attention to the clock. Even without your snowy intercession, he was, as usual, running behind schedule. 

“Fashionably late,” he replied with a lazy smile and a wink.

“It’s rude to make a lady wait,” you said.

“Oh there’s a lady? Where is she?” he asked, looking around and over you, pretending to look for someone else. 

You gasped in outrage, “Piss off!” 

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, “You scared of being cold there, Michelin Man?”

“Rightly so, some asshole made me fall in the snow,” you replied with a small smile

“I’m not an asshole, I’m your husband, you adore me. I’m the light of your life, your one and only love --”

“I want a divorce,” you deadpanned.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you need grounds for divorce in NYC,” Beau shot back as the two of you began to walk down the street. 

“I have grounds, my husband bullying me is grounds,” you said firmly. 

“Nope, not admissible,” he replied, his voice light as he smiled at you with his eyes. 

“Yes it is, I believe it falls under cruel and inhumane treatment,” you replied, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Nuh uh,” he said, wrapping his hand over your finger, “You need five years of specific acts of cruelty for that to be admissible. The cruelty must rise to the level that the Plaintiff is physically or mentally in danger and it is unsafe or improper for the Plaintiff to continue living with the Defendant. I believe that’s the rule,” he added with a laugh.

“Oh, love it when you talk legal to me, Admiral,” you said, trying to make your voice as sultry as possible. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “How do you even know that stuff anyway?”

“I watch a lot of court tv and true crime,” he shrugged.

“Court tv?” you repeated, astounded, “Can you act any more elderly?”

“It’s interesting!” he laughed.

“It’s boring, nothing ever happens,” you retorted before pausing and taking in his appearance. He wore a blue button up shirt, and presumably the same pair of jeans he had worn the evening before, together with the cream knit cardigan and carefully styled hair, he hardly looked like the type to enjoy hearing about gruesome murders, “Wouldn’t have pegged you as a true crime guy…”

“No?” he asked, “What would you have pegged me as then?”

“Hmm,” you thought for a second, “You seem like a documentary kind of guy.”

“True crime is kind of a documentary, right? And it’s not my fault, my last girlfriend got me into it,” he replied.

“Right,” you said, “Ex-girlfriend?”

“Yes, I have some of those,” he replied, looking amused.

“When was your last ex-girlfriend?” you asked, thinking back at your entire working relationship. You had always known him as a single man, or rather, he had never mentioned a woman and you had been quite happy to assume he didn’t have anyone to come home to as it made you feel slightly less guilty about the thoughts you were having about him.

“Aren’t you getting curious?” he laughed, “I don’t know, about three years or so?”

“Huh.” you said. You had been right in your assumption, you’d started working as his secretary a year and a half ago, but the confirmation was slightly overshadowed by the fact that a flutter of butterflies had suddenly taken flight in your tummy at the thought that Beau might be single. As if that meant you had a chance, your brain scoffed.

“Anyone since?” you asked.

“No,” he replied with an amused smile.

“Really? Not… a crush? No one you like?” you prompted, your stomach suddenly full of butterflies. 

“Oh God, this is like talking to my mother,” he rolled his eyes before smirking, “Just you,” he said, “My darling wife.”

“You’re insufferable,” you told him, trying to mask yet another pang of hurt as the butterflies died and gave birth to confusion.  

“True, but you’ll have to put up with me if you want the best cup of coffee of your life,” he said. 

The promise of coffee was enough to get you moving and after a short cab ride, you found yourself standing in front of a charming little coffee shop hidden between two ivy covered houses. You walked in behind Beau, feeling slightly self conscious about the way the high heels of your boots clicked on the tiles, drawing attention to you as you descended the few steps towards the main floor. You stopped short when people turned to look at you, suddenly very aware of how much you stuck out like a sore thumb.

Beau turned to you, sticking out his hand for you to grab. You placed your hand in his and came down the remainder of the steps, shooting him a grateful smile. He nodded towards a booth at the end of the room, hidden away from stares and loud conversation and you made your way there while he ordered. He came back a minute later with two chocolate covered waffles and two large coffees.

“Anything you want to see specifically?” he asked after sitting down next to you on the plush bench. 

“Nothing really, there’s too much to squeeze into a day…” you said, “I kind of want to go window shopping…”

He hesitated for a second, “Okay,” he said, “But we’re going for a walk in Central Park… And we’re doing the catacombs.” 

“Fine, but you’re winning me something at the holiday market on Union Square,” you shot back.

“What my wife wants, she gets,” he winked.

“Uh uh,” you shook your head, “You haven’t proposed yet. I overheard the cabbie, I know what you’re planning,” you added, playfully squinting at him.

“Drink your coffee,” he ordered you with a grin. You made a big show of huffing and pouting before grabbing your mug in both hands and taking a sip. Beau hadn’t been joking, this was quite possibly the best coffee you had ever had and the gingerbread syrup they had drizzled in tasted homemade.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

“Told you,” he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink, “I used to come here every Saturday when I lived here. Didn’t live too far away actually,” he said, leaning back against the back of his chair. You could see the mental map he was consulting, calculating the time and amount of miles that separated him from his old home, “It was so bad. The showers kept breaking, our windows were shot twice in our first year of living there, and there was a really funky smell coming through the vents whenever we turned the aircon on…” he laughed.

“I thought you were from Missouri,” you said.

“Hmm,” he agreed, “I was deployed here for a few years before they moved me to California though.”

“Do you miss it?” you asked. 

You knew how much Cyclone secretly hated California. In the summer, he spent half of his days complaining about the heat and humidity and when winter came around, he kept up the lamenting, raging against Cali’s lack of white Christmasses and fake Christmas trees. 

“No,” he replied with a smile, “There are worse places to be deployed to, though. Anchorage Alaska is pretty bad.”

“Hey! Anchorage is nice!” you protested.

“Sure, if you like mining towns and mind numbing boredom,” he said, “Please tell me you’re not from Alaska,” he added, looking at you with a frown on his face.

“My dad is, he moved to Texas and met my mom there in the eighties. I’ve been a few times in the summer, it’s not too bad,” you shrugged, “Chugach State Park is amazing. The trails are really nice and the views are spectacular. When we went to visit, we did a glacier walk, stayed the night in a camp and by complete luck we managed to catch the northern lights -- I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in my life -- I also think we managed to go dogsledding and we definitely went on one of those flightseeing tours, which was so cool. It would probably be quite boring for you though,” you said.

“Why would it be boring?” he asked, looking at you with a strange look in your eyes. If you had been any less oblivious, you would have seen it was love.

“You fly F-15s,” you replied, thinking the tiny aircraft you had flown in wouldn’t even compare to the speed and exploits his usual planes managed to pull off. 

“Flew. I haven’t been in a plane for years now, unless you count the minuscule amount of flying I have to do in order to keep my licence,” he sighed, looking a little sad.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s not your fault. It’s part of the job, I knew that when I accepted the promotion to Admiral,” he said, sounding sad, “I miss it sometimes, but seeing what those kids do up in the air sometimes makes me think I’m better off on the ground.”

“I know it doesn’t matter, but I’m happy you don’t fly too often. I don’t have to worry so much about you crashing. I know you’re safe,” you said, looking into the pools of chocolate on your plate to avoid crossing his gaze.

“Careful,” he chuckled, “I might start thinking you care for me,” he added, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and gently tucking it behind your ear. You felt a blush creep up your chest, washing over you like angry waves crashing onto the beach, it seemed to fill your lungs and your breath caught for a second. He removed his hand and picked up his cutlery to tuck into his own waffle, unaware of what such a small touch had accomplished.

“So, what do we start with?” he said, as soon as he had swallowed his last mouthful. You were still chewing on a piece and hurried up when he looked at you with an amused smile, “Come on, we only have a day,” he teased.

“I,” you started, covering your mouth with your hand, “I say we take a walk through Central park first.”

“You’ll be okay to walk on those shoes?” he asked.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” you replied, “I guess you’ll just have to carry me when my feet hurt,” you winked.

He chuckled, “Hey, like I said, anything my wife wants, my wife gets.”

“Okay so Central Park then what?” you questioned as the two of you made it out on to the street once more. 

“Window shopping, catacombs and Christmas fair? We can end on dinner to talk about the bet?” he offered.

“Sounds good to me, Boo-bear,” you replied.

Beau let out a annoyed laugh, indicating just how much he hated the new nickname, “You’re on, Honeybunch.” 

----

Central Park in the snow was truly something to behold. Even though you had never really been fond of cities and their parks -- it all felt a little too much like keeping nature caged like a bird -- you had to admit that under its white blanket, it looked lovely. 

You looked at everything, immortalising it all in your mind, from the tiny blades of grass poking out of the snow to the top of the branches of the tallest trees, looking beautiful with the backdrop of New York peaking through, busy as ever with its bustling traffic and rushing people. You stood there for a while, so concentrated that you didn’t notice Cyclone had gone until he was already back, bumping your elbow with his gloved hand, handing you a cardboard cup.

“We’ve just had a coffee,” you said after taking a sip of the warming beverage.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have like, nine espressos a day when I’m not there to stop you,” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, unwilling to concede he was right, “Could be worse,” you said, glancing at him, a cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other “I could be addicted to something deadly… Like cigarettes.” you said, like you, you thought.

“Will you stop?” he asked, annoyed. 

“I don’t know, Beau, will you?” you retorted.

“No, I won’t,” he bit back, “They’re calming.”

“So’s a stress ball,” you replied.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

It doesn't show signs of stopping

And I brought some corn for popping”

“The speakers are new,” he mumbled, searching around to find where the sound came from and finally seeing the box speakers hidden in bald bushes. 

“Hmm,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. 

“How’s the coffee?” he asked. 

“Not bad,” you replied, “Want me to hold yours while you smoke?” you offered, holding a hand out to take his cup. 

He nodded, placing his cup into your open palm. You turned it around in your hand, trying to see what he’d ordered, something had been written on the sleeve, but whoever had been writing down his order possessed the worst penmanship this side of the equator, you were sure, as you were entirely unable to decipher it. Your curiosity couldn’t be reined in, however, so you took a small sip.

Catching you in the act, Beau raised an eyebrow at you.

“Wanted to know what Admiral Simpson liked to drink,” you explained, “Wasn’t expecting vanilla latte,” you added with a teasing smile, “Is that almond milk I taste?” you asked. You had been witness to many a rant about milk substitutes, and although he had calmed down once he figured out you liked soy milk in your coffees, you never would have thought he’d crossed to the ‘dark side’ as he put it.

“You breathe a word of this to anyone…” he threatened, the corners of his lips coming up in a smile.

“I already put it on the base facebook page,” you joked, waving your phone at him, “Admiral Beau Lloyd Simpson likes to drink girly starbucks drinks,” you pretended to read from your dark screen.

Beau squinted playfully at you, “You better not,” he replied, “I’d never hear the end of it.”

“You’re right, I haven’t. HR would be wondering why I’d be having coffee with you in the first place,” you said.

“We’re allowed to get coffee. I get coffee with you all the time,” he said, sounding confused. 

“No, you get coffee for me all the time,” you replied, “Which you’re not even supposed to do, by the way. I’m your secretary, it’s part of my job.”

“You’re not my P.A,” he said, his tone bordering argumentative. 

“All I’m saying is that there’s a difference. A line we’re not meant to cross, and we’re already toeing it now,” you said, “They’ve already made comments about me coming here with you… I don’t want them to think --”

“To think what?” he asked after a moment of silence, his voice quieter than before. 

“That we’re --” you hesitated, “That you’re more than what you are…”

“Which is what?” he asked, “Your friend?”

“My boss,” you replied. Beau froze, stopping in the middle of the path. You followed suit, much to the displeasure of a group of dutch tourists visiting the city for Christmas. They walked around you, throwing annoyed looks at you that you were too distracted to notice. 

“Right,” he said, “Make up your mind, would you? One second you’re pissy because you want to be friends and I don’t and now it’s the opposite, you’re giving me whiplash.” 

“I’m not making you be my friend,” you laughed, “But I’m not in the habit of hanging around people who aren’t friends, so I’m going back. Call me when you need me for the function, or text me, I don’t care,” you said, turning around and walking back down the path towards the metro station, fully intending on going back to your room and drowning your broken heart in cheap wine while you cried your heart out in front of a silly romcom.

“No, please,” he said, running after you, “Please come back. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” he added, grabbing your arm.

“Beau, let go of me,” you said, you body stiff and your face stoney. 

“Y/n please,” he begged, “I’m sorry.”

“Fine,” you breathed.

“Why did you ever leave?” you asked, changing the subject, “This place is magical.”

“I got my orders,” he shrugged.

“Hmm, I forgot. When the Navy calls, you answer,” you replied.

“For now, yes,” he said, kicking a snowball with his foot.

“Oh?” you asked.

“I might not, if I had someone else to think about,” he said quietly, his eyes still on the ground. 

You gasped, “Oh my Goodness, is eternal bachelor Beau Simpson looking to settle down?” you asked with a smile, slightly surprised by the admission. The butterflies that had died in your stomach in the hotel lobby came back in full force, fluttering about your insides with all the energy of a toddler on a sugar high.

Beau chuckled at your teasing, “Yes, weirdly, I don’t want to die alone,” he replied, half-serious.

“Oh you won’t,” you said.

“Not what my tinder says,” he laughed uncomfortably, “I think I got like, seven matches in the past three months? Turns out older guys aren’t prime real estate,” he added, a certain sadness around his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Okay, first off, you’re a person not a cottage,” you retorted, eliciting a laugh from your companion, “Second off, any girl would be lucky to have you,” you said, “You’re nice, you’re funny, you’re smart, you have a good career --,” you added, counting his qualities on your fingers.

“Seriously,” he chuckled, “Stop it or I will think you care for me.”

“Would that be so bad?” you asked, your voice so low and barely audible that when a group of children ran past you, laughing as their friends threw snowballs, your words were swallowed by the noise.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you lied, remembering his comment about whiplash. Quit toeing the line, you thought to yourself. 

“When we finally kiss goodnight

How I'll hate to go out in the storm

But if you really hold me tight

All the way home I'll be warm

The fire is slowly dying

And my dear, we're still goodbying”

“So HR spoke to you?” he asked.

“No, but I don’t want to give them a reason to,” you replied, “Or give them a reason to withhold your promotion.”

“They wouldn’t,” he said with a scoff. 

“With all the fraternisation rules? You bet they would, and there would be an investigation and I can’t have that marring my record. I don’t want my next job asking questions and possibly going back on their decision to hire me,” you said firmly, a fire in your words. 

Beau let out a sigh, “Where are you going? I don’t think I ever asked you.”

“Advertising firm in Santa Barbara,” you replied quickly. 

“Santa -- that’s like a three hour ride,” he said.

“It is, why? You thinking of visiting?” you teased.

“If you’ll have me,” he said, looking at the floor.

“Of course I would, you’ll tell me all about your new secretary,” you smiled.

“Hmm, about how horribly incompetent she is,” he grumbled.

“Oh hush,” you said, gently swatting his arm, “She’ll be fine. Don’t jinx yourself by saying these things…”

“We still haven’t found one, and you won’t be there to train her. I’m not holding out much hope,” he grumbled.

“Oh, is that why you’re so pissy? You’re cross I won’t be there to train her?” you said, teasingly.

“No --” he started, only for you to interrupt him. 

“Look, there’s nothing to it. Half of my day is spent nagging you to look at your diary, and the other half is just nagging you about other things,” you said, poking him in the side with your finger, “Easy peasy.”

Beau hummed, taking a sip of his vanilla latte.

“Promise me you’ll check your diary for her,” you asked, stopping him with an arm in front of his waist and turning him around to face you. 

“Could be a ‘him’,” he replied..

“Beau,” you said, “Promise me.” 

“Have you ever been ice skating?” he asked with a grin, evading your questions.

“Beau, I’m serious,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“So am I,” He grinned, pointing in the distance at the Lake, where hundreds of people whizzed around on ice skates, making tiny trails in the ice. 

“No,” you said, “Oh, no. That’s not happening.”

“It’ll be fun!” he exclaimed, trying to grab your hand. You swiped it away right in time, holding it behind your back.

“No, I’m not dying of hypothermia after skating on a stupid lake and falling through the ice  miles away from home!” you exclaimed.

Beau laughed, “You’re not going to die, the ice is thick, it’s safe!”

“You don’t know that,” you replied, feeling your eyes widen at the sight of everyone on the ice. 

“Look, I’m way heavier than you are, if anything breaks, I’ll be the one going down. All you have to do then is run,” he laughed, “You won’t mind, you’re already such a chicken.”

“Don’t call me chicken!” you exclaimed, your previous fear long forgotten. 

“Then come ice skating, Mcfly,” he said, smiling at you, “Tell you what, you come ice skating with me and I’ll promise to check my diary.”

“Ugh,” you said, pretending to sound annoyed, “Fine.”

You followed him down the path towards the lake, trying to calm your nerves by watching the scenery. Too soon for your liking, you made it to the crowd. After getting ice skates, you gingerly walked onto the ice, Beau sliding right behind you. 

“Your teacher has arrived,” he grinned. 

"The fire is slowly dying

And my dear we're still goodbying

Long as you love me so

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

Frankie sang. Cyclone stretched his hands out in front of him for you to take. Secured by his strong grip, you dared to take a step forward. 

“See, it’s safe,” he smiled.

You skated forward, doing as he told you, getting a little more confident by the second. After a few moments, he let go of you, moving backwards so you would skate towards him like a child taking their first steps. 

“You’re a natural,” he laughed, despite the fact that he had been trying to teach you for over forty-five minutes and that you had only moved about three metres away from the bank. His eyes were trained on you, ready to catch you in case you slipped, and before you could warn him someone skated straight into the back of him, pushing him forwards. He tried to catch himself but the more he tried to, the more he slipped, making him look a little like Wile-e Coyote running in the air seconds before falling off a cliff. Eventually, gravity won and Beau fell straight into your arms.

“If you wanted to hug me, you could have just asked,” you teased, both of you laughing loudly. You helped him up, steadying him with one hand firmly against his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” the bumper said, “Are you hurt?” the girl asked Beau. She wasn’t much younger than you, college aged probably, but her hat and scarf, so large and warm, made her cheeks red, giving her a pleasant baby face.

“Only his pride,” you replied for him.

“Good,” she grinned, “He seemed like he needed humbling,” she winked at you before turning on her heels and skating away.

Beau opened his mouth to say something but as soon as Let it Snow finished, another song crackled through the speakers.

“New York on Sunday

Big City taking a nap

Slow down, it's Sunday

Life's a ball, let it fall in your lap

If you've got troubles

Just take them out for a walk

They'll burst like bubbles

In the fun of a Sunday In New York"

"Now--" you said, pausing.

"That's not--" he started. 

"Yeah, that's Bobby Darin," you chuckled.

"Must be a mistake..." he mumbled. You had heard so much Frankie that the change of voice felt jarring.

"I mean it's a good song," you said, looking at him confused, "It's just... not Frankie…"

"Aww look at you," he smiled, "Frankie... Y/n, do you have a crush?" He teased

"Stop it," you laughed

"Frankie and Y/n, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n--" he sang, the end of it lost in your glove as you brought your hand to cover his mouth.

"Just teach me how to ice skate," you laughed

"You can spend time without spending a dime

Watching people watch people pass

Later you pause, and in one of those stores

There's that face next to yours in the glass

Two hearts stop beating

You're both too breathless to speak

Love smiles her greeting

Then the dream that has seen you through the week

Comes true on Sunday in New York

Comes true on Sunday in New York"

“Speaking of stores, how about we go window shopping,” he offered, “I think I’ve done enough skating for today,” he added, skating back towards the bank and his shoes. You followed right behind, finding your boots amongst a pile of trainers, covered in brown slush. 

“Was your pride that bruised?” you teased, trying to wipe the grime off. 

“No,” he laughed, “it’s getting close to lunchtime, and I’m starving. We could go to that Christmas fair, if you want, it’s really not that far away,” he offered. You nodded, feeling less like bambi now that you were back in your own shoes, despite the heel and height difference. 

“Sure,” you said, “I’d kill for a --”

“Coffee?” he finished for you.

“No,” you lied, earning you one of Beau’s brightest smiles.

“You’re such a liar,” he replied, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

“Fine! I need a coffee,” you admitted, “I’m getting the withdrawal shivers.”

“Junkie,” he teased. You stuck your tongue out at him and he reciprocated, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you your drink before you pass out. At this point I’m sure it’s the only thing keeping your heart beating.”

“You’re pretty good at keeping my heart beating too,” you said, “No that’s not what I meant,” you quickly added as soon as your words sank in. 

“Nothing wrong with being madly in love with your husband, my dear,” he replied, a sly smile on his face. 

“Shut up,” you replied, “And you’re not even my fiancé, you haven’t proposed yet,” you shot back, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I need you to put a ring around this finger before you call yourself anything other than my boss,” you said. 

Beau chuckled, making your heart skip a beat, “You’re high maintenance, you know that?”

“And proud,” you grinned, “I don’t do wife stuff for secretary prices,” Beau looked at you, returning your smile, laughing a little. You let your eyes wander, a rare treat you never usually granted yourself for fear of betraying your distinctly unprofessional thoughts about him. 

He looked good. He looked relaxed. He looked nothing like his permanently stressed, high-strung California self. His hair had started off as neat and gelled, but the New York breeze had tousled it, making it look adorably dishevelled. Together with his cold-induced rosy cheeks and easy smile, it was hard to deny that New York suited him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. 

“Nothing,” you lied, “What are you thinking of getting?” you asked, spotting the USS Maine monument in the distance and its seasonal market, already bustling with people despite the fact that it had only opened half an hour ago. 

It smelled fantastic. The mix of mulled wine, baked goods, and savoury dishes floating over to you suddenly made your stomach growl, you sped up a little walking past the first block of stalls and towards the B block where most of the food kiosks stood. Beau bee-lined for a stall, getting himself a loaded portion of chilli but you hesitated. Despite what your stomach had loudly proclaimed, you weren’t actually all that hungry. Still, it was lunchtime and scared you’d faint, you bought yourself some oranges and a coffee from the nearest beverage stall. 

You sipped on your drink, immediately feeling the rush of caffeine surge through your body. Your hairs stood on end, and the beginnings of a headache you had been feeling for the past hour suddenly disappeared. Huh, you thought, putting your oranges in your coat pocket, maybe I do need to cool it on the coffee.

“I found a bench,” Beau said, coming up beside you.

“Go you! Shall we cross that off your bingo card?” you replied, sarcastically. 

“Meanie,” he said, “I’m not eating standing up.”

“Okay,” you replied, expecting him to leave you alone in favour of his bench, but the hand that wasn’t holding his chilli came up to tug at your sleeve.

“Come sit with me,” he said

“Is that an order, Admiral?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” he asked, winking at you. 

“In your dreams,” you said, laughing, “You promised you would win me something,” you pointed at a stall towards the back. Little metal cowboys made their way around the scene on a track, ducking behind and in front of wooden mountains, evading players with ease as their owner looked on, occasionally letting out a “Next time maybe,” or a “Almost got him,” whenever they missed a shot. 

“A sharpshooting game?” he asked, sounding unimpressed. 

You let out an airy laugh, “Scared you’ll miss, Boo-bear?”

He stood up, “What do you want?” Cyclone asked.

“I want that big sailor bear,” you answered, pointing towards a huge stuffed bear, wearing a little sailor’s cap and collar. 

“Okay,” he answered, walking off in that direction with you hot on his heels, “You know I have a marksmanship medal, right?”

“Prove it to me,” you said, holding back the wink you wanted to send him. 

Beau gave the man five dollars and picked up the pellet gun. 

“Don’t forget, you need five cowboys down for the bottom tier, ten for the middle tier and fifteen for the top tier,” the attendant reminded him, sounding bored.

“How much for the bear?” Beau asked, nodding towards the pedestal. 

“All of them need to be knocked down on the first shot, sir,” the attendant said. 

Cyclone raised the gun and nodded at the man. He pressed a bright green button by his side and the music started, a familiar song from the soundtrack to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, as the cowboys slowly came up to speed, circling around the circuit on their tracks. Beau looked down the scope and steadied his footing. You looked on with bated breath as he pulled the trigger, shooting down every little figurine with one single shot. 

“I’m impressed,” you said, “It would appear you didn’t get your medal from cereal box tops after all.” 

“You better name the bear after me,” he winked, barely hiding his offence at your jab.

You stood up on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, “I’m teasing, I never doubted you,” you whispered in his ear, wondering if the close proximity had the same effect on him as it had on you, “But you do look adorable all huffy and offended…I need to rile you up more often.”

You lowered yourself back down, accepting the bear from the man and hugging it tight, laying your face against its fluffy head, “I think I might call it Addy. Short for Admiral, because having a bear named after my boss is just a little weird.”

“Addy is still naming it after me, though,” he said with a wink. 

“True, but it’s a whole lot more covert than calling it Beau, especially since my family and my friends know who you are,” you replied, cheekily. 

“Oh,” he smirked, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “Am I often a subject of conversation?”

“Sure, I tell my sisters aaaaalllll about how much of a pain you are,” you said, purposely bumping into him, “and that you never check your diary.”

“Oh my God, what is it with you and that diary?” he exclaimed, exaggeratingly rolling his eyes to make sure you knew he was trying to annoy you. 

“Because,” you poked his side, “I spend hours of my day making sure it’s up to date,” you poked him again, “And you,” he grabbed your hand, spinning you around into his arms, immobilising you in the process, “Never,” you wriggled, “Check,” you wriggled again, “It!” 

“Bullshit,” he laughed, “you’re just using it as an excuse to talk to me.”

You blushed. It was a jab, but what had started with genuine annoyance at the fact that he never knew what needed doing during the day had, at some point, become an excuse to visit him in his office. You suddenly felt acutely aware of how Beau’s arms were wrapped around you, squeezing you against him, and how horribly inappropriate all of this was. An embarrassed blush washed over you, feeling ashamed of both your feelings and how pathetic it was for you to resort to finding excuses to talk to him. 

“Sir,” someone said, tapping Beau on the shoulder, “A rose for your wife?”

Beau froze, much like he had in the cab. Taking the opportunity to make him pay for accidentally making you embarrassed, you spoke before he could.

“Oh he’s not my husband,” you corrected the salesman in your most innocent voice, erasing all traces of your usually noticeable southern accent to match his midwestern one, “He’s my daddy.”

“I’m so sorry, miss,” the salesman smiled, “You here for college?” he asked. You were grateful, probably for the first time in your life, that you looked a little younger than you were. Out of your office clothes, carefully curated to look mature and competent, you could pass as early instead of mid twenties. 

Granted, there wasn’t all that much difference, but men had a tendency to treat you differently based on which one you portrayed, getting the right one to get what you wanted was an art form that you had just started to master. 

You tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling sweetly at the salesman, “Sorta, I’m doing a phd,” you replied.

“Well, that’s wonderful,” he said, “Sir, a rose for your little girl, I’m sure there’s nothing in the world that would make her happier. A beautiful rose for your beautiful daughter,” he winked at a dumbfounded Beau.

“Yeah, daddy,” you cooed, “Nothing would make me happier.” 

Cyclone took the rose, and paid the guy, before turning to you, “You’re going to pay for this,” he threatened, handing you the rose after gently slapping you over the head with it.

“What? Don’t like it when I call you Daddy?” you asked, pushing your luck.

“Stop it,” he demanded, his voice leaving nothing up to interpretation. Just when you thought you were actually in trouble, Beau smiled.

“You’re no fun,” you said, teasing him now that you knew you hadn’t made him cross, “Thanks for the bear, and the rose.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, “Should I be worried?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. 

“The blatant manipulation,” he simpered, looking shocked you’d even ask. 

You chuckled, “No, I’d never manipulate you,” you smiled, holding Addie up in your arms, squeezing him tight.

“You are a menace,” he grinned, “Where did you even learn how to do that?”

“Youngest daughter,” you shrugged, “And it’s the whole ‘gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss’ thing women need these days to get out on top,” you winked.

“Wow,” Beau said, “I’ve never felt older… I understand most of these words individually but put together…”

You laughed, “If you can’t convince them, confuse them,” you replied.

“See, I might find that funny if I even remotely understood the context,” he said, sounding confused. 

“I’m not sure it fits, to be honest,” you replied, taking the last sip of your coffee. You threw the cup into a trash can with a pout, “No more coffee, makes me sad.”

He chuckled, “Tell you what sweetheart, you quit caffeine and I quit smoking,” 

You turned to him in shock, “You serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he replied, “Which is what you’ll have if you keep drinking coffee like that.”

“Deal,” you said, sticking your hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” he replied, “You ready for the catacombs? If we leave now, we’ll get there right on time for a tour to start.”

“Did you memorise the times?” you asked, peering over at him. 

He nodded, “It starts at the hour.” 

“Still creepy,” you said.

“Shut up,” he smiled, “Want the rest of my coffee?” added, handing you the cup. 

You took it gratefully, bringing the rim up to your mouth before stopping short when you caught his eye, “You ass!” you exclaimed, swatting him on the shoulder.

“You don’t want it then?” he inquired. 

“You’re so mean,” you said, dropping the cup into the next trashcan you passed. 

---

“I hate this,” you mumbled, watching the guide take out an old fashioned dungeon key from his pocket. Beau had sworn this wouldn’t be creepy, just something fun that he never got to do when he lived there. 

It didn’t seem fun. Even the raving review on the brochure didn’t seem all that enticing to you. Although, you had to admit that half of the creepiness of the catacombs were, at the moment, due to the guide. You had never seen anyone so well suited to the role, but his easy charms, generous winking and colgate-commercial smile had quickly become unnerving in the underground lights when you realised just how much he looked like Anthony Perkins in the 1960s version of the film Psycho. 

The guide walked ahead of the group, guiding you all in a massive hallway of concrete with a domed ceiling. Despite being underground, a puddle of water pooled by one of the doors.

“Relax, will you?” Beau chuckled, “Someone probably dropped their water bottle.”

“You don’t know that,” you whispered back, unconsciously scooting closer to him. He swung an arm around your shoulders protectively and leaned closer to whisper in your ear,

“You’re right, we’re trapped in here with zombies, one of them must have gotten up during the night to take a leak,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning across your neck, making you blush. Your heart sped up, although you weren’t sure if it was because of him or because of the sudden flash of fear you felt when he mentioned zombies.

“I can assure you, miss, that there are no zombies here,” the guide said, “Despite what your companion is telling you,” he added, winking at you. 

You shot him an uneasy smile as he stared, fixing you with an unblinking look that made your hair stand on end.

“This is more like -- errr -- an apartment building for corpses. A middle class option for people who wanted to have the luxury of a mausoleum without having to pay to build something of their own,” he added, as if that was meant to reassure you in any way.

“Right,” you answered, trying hard not to imagine what that would entail, but the more you tried to erase the picture from your mind, the more it came up, flashing before your eyes every time you blinked. A loud bang resonated in the catacombs, making you and the rest of the group jump. Beau instinctively grabbed your upper arm, dragging you behind him to protect you.

Footsteps approached, loud and echoing and followed by an incredibly unpleasant shriek, getting louder as it got closer. Beau backed away diagonally, practically sandwiching you against a wall, his large frame covering you almost entirely. You could just about see the tour guide, still staring at you. He winked, and smiled.

The noises got closer and closer and closer. It seemed only yards away now, and then, it turned a corner and a small man appeared, dragging a rusty maintenance trolley behind him. 

“Alright, Jim? Gave my people quite the freight,” 

“Aye, sorry about that,” Jim replied, raising a hand in apology, “Just fixed a leak in maintenance closet three. We’re all good for the concert on Friday.”

“Ah yes! I almost forgot!” The guide exclaimed, “There will be a Christmas concert here on Friday, tickets are five dollars a piece but people who have done the tour get a one dollar discount. If you’re interested, you can find all information about attendants and ticket pre orders on our website.”

“It’s a good one this year,” Jim said.

“It’s a good one every year, Jim,” the guide corrected him, his tone so final it made Jim pause.

“Aye,” Jim replied, “It is a good one every year.”

The rest of the tour went by without a hiccup. The history of it even began to sound interesting, but your enthusiasm never failed to die down a little whenever the guide turned to you. You managed to catch a glimpse of his name tag halfway back up the stairs towards the surface, and if you hadn’t already been so unsettled by his unblinking gaze, which seemed to always be trained on you, you might have laughed at how well it suited him.

“Don’t forget to tip your guide,”  Henry Danger said, throwing yet another one of his smiles, his teeth as straight as a tombstone in a cemetery, their whiteness seeming just as fake as the kindness in his voice. 

“Well, he gave me the heeby jeebies,” Beau said as he stepped away, guiding you towards the tube station, “Did you see how he was looking at you?”

“I was starting to wonder if he even had eyelids,” you shivered, “You realise I will never be able to sleep tonight, right?”

“Yeah? Scared of zombies?” Beau smirked.

“Scared he’ll be hiding in the darkness of my room,” you replied, nodding behind you where you had left your tour guide. 

You walked down the steps to the metro line in silence, not wanting to alarm anyone with the conversation you were having, not that you would have been able to anyway, the noise of rush hour traffic paired up with rush hour metro users drawing out pretty much anything. You swiped your tickets against the machines and somehow managed to squeeze yourselves into a packed carriage.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad in real life,” Beau said, picking your conversation back up where you left it as if nothing had ever disturbed it.

“He did look like a batman character, didn’t he?” you said.

Beau hummed in agreement, “I’m hungry,” he said, “We’re not too far away from the restaurant.”

"Can we go back to the hotel? I'd like to look decent for dinner," you said, "I feel yucky, all that -- whatever that was, has made me feel dirty."

"You're so precious," Beau said, looking down at you with an almost sweetness in his eyes. 

"You're right, let's go now so I smell like wet dog,” you said sarcastically, “What wine do you think pairs well with miasma and ancient bone dust fumes?"

"I feel like red would go well with it… maybe a nice Barolo or a New World Cabernet," he mused playfully. 

"You're right, something rich and full bodied… I'm thirsty now," you said, clicking your tongue against the top of your mouth. 

"Let's go back, I think you're right. I could use a shower," he said, turning right into a side street. You could see the back of the hotel from where you stood. Beau slid his hand behind you, resting on your lower back.

"So precious," you teased him, repeating his words back to him, "Where are we going? I need to know how to dress."

"Just wear whatever, you always dress nice anyway," he replied, looking down at you with soft eyes. 

"Is that code for 'I haven't decided where we're going yet'?" You asked.

"No," he smiled, "I've made reservations. I'm just trying to pay you a compliment."

"I'm flattered," you replied, "but I do really need to know."

"I told you," he said, sounding a bit exasperated. 

"Please," you begged, "I'm not good with surprises."

"You must be fun at Christmas," he shot back, holding the Edison's main door open for you, its doorman nowhere to be seen.

"My parents bought a safe to keep presents in. I'd always start looking for them to open them beforehand so they had to take drastic measures," you explained, a devious smile on your face. 

Beau laughed, "I hope your kids'll be just as bad."

"I was charming as a child, I'll have you know," you said, your head held high in mock prissyness. 

Beau let out a laugh, "You still are." 

"You're handing out compliments like candy, Beau. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to sleep with me," you winked. Beau looked down at his shoes, a deep red blush covering his cheeks.

To escape the embarassement of your teasing, he pressed the elecator button.

"So easy to embarass," you whispered under your breath, climbing in when the elevator dinged.

"Hmmm," he hummed, "You'll regret it."

"You promised me that at lunch, and yet…" you said, tapping your chin with your fingers. 

"Anyway, see you in thirty? Is that enough time?" he asked, looking you over. You exited the lift, followed by Beau, making your way down the corridor to your room.

"I'll hurry," you replied, unlocking your door. You waved him goodbye and locked it behind you, immediately removing your shoes, shedding your clothes, letting them fall to the floor without a second thought. 

Opening your case, you rifled through your clothes, trying to find something appropriate for dinner. If it had just been dinner with your boss, you might have just gone for a nice pencil skirt and a shirt. Something that said 'this is a work thing'. But this wasn't just dinner with your boss. It was dinner with Beau, the man you developed a crush on 0.1 seconds after meeting him. 

In the end, you settled on a burgundy cocktail dress you thanked yourself for bringing and paired it with a pair of red bottomed heels. After a shower, you quickly curled your hair and brushed it through, letting it fall in graceful, slightly vintage looking waves upon your shoulders. 

Then, just as your alarm rang to warn you you needed to meet Beau in ten minutes, you started on your makeup, applying a layer of red lipstick and fixing your winged eyeliner which had, miraculously, not bled in the water and steam of your shower.

Finishing it off with a spray of perfume, you walked out of the door and straight into Beau, who was, for the first time in his thirty year career and almost fifty years of life, on time. He looked stunning, freshly showered and smelling of soap and aftershave, he had finally gotten rid of his stubble -- which you kicked yourself for missing -- and gelled his hair again. He had changed out of his shirt, jeans and cardigan and into a nice navy coloures suit, and an, accidentally, matching shirt to your dress. 

"You clean up nice, Simpson," you said, as if nice was the appropriate word to describe how he looked.

"You look wonderful," he returned the compliment, "See, you didn't need me to spoil the surprise for you to dress nice."

"Well, you mentioned a reservation… I figured it wasn't Mcdonalds,"

"So is this standard dress for anything other than mcdonalds?" he asked, "Or are you dressed like this because of me?"

"It's standard dress," you lied, making your way down the corridor towards the lift, hoping to hide the blush on your cheeks.

Beau caught up with you just as the doors closed, he pressed the lobby button on the wall and squeezed behind you as the elevator stopped at every floor on its way down, allowing more people into the tiny cabin until it was completely packed. 

"Where to, Admiral?" you inquired quietly. 

"It's not far, we'll walk," he said, "Where's your coat?"

You groaned, "I'll be right--" 

"No time, we'll be late. Take mine," he said, shaking off his coat, again. You really weren't made for snowy NYC.

"Let me just --" he said, grabbing your hand in his, "Just to make sure you don't fall," he grinned.

"Right," you answered, hoping that the butterflies you were feeling couldn't be heard fluttering in your voice.

Beau crossed a corner into the theatre district, sandwiching you between him and the buildings of NYC to protect you from oncoming traffic. Moments later, he guided you into Le Rivage, a traditional french restaurant that you had seen many pictures of. 

While you had appreciated the art deco style of the Edison, you had to admit that the restaurant's architecture and decor was more your cup of tea. The walls of naked bricks, paintings on the wall and overall rustic style made you feel like you had stepped straight into the little hole-in-the-wall bistro you liked to frequent during your studies in Paris.

"Do you have a reservation?" The woman at the door asked, her beautiful red dress showing off how fancy this place truly was.

"Simpson, for two people," Beau replied, shaking off his coat before helping you with yours.

"Agnes, please lead Mr and Mrs Simpson to table 13," she barked at a teen. 

Agnes brought you to a small round table near the back. Although the lights were dimmed slightly, the feeling of privacy you felt was counterfeit as its position near the live band meant everyone was bound to look over your way. 

You sat down and Agnes disappeared for a second, coming back almost immediately with a pitcher of water and a notepad. Beau ordered wine while you looked at menus and while you had had something to drink since breakfast, you had completely forgotten to have your orange. Alcohol was a terrible idea, especially considering your feelings and who you were eating with, and yet you let him pour you a glass, which you clinked together.

"Cheers," he said.

"Cheers," you replied.

"So, did you win the lottery or what? This is a very nice place," you stated, your gaze travelling over the restaurant. 

"I just wanted to say thank you for coming with me," he said, "I really appreciate it."

"Oh, it's okay," you said.

"No, I know how unconventional it was of me to ask you to attend with me and you would have been well within your rights to refuse," he replied. Beau licked his lips and you couldn't help but stare, hoping that your slight perving would be interpreted as attentive listening. 

"I'm so thankful that you didn't," he added, "So far it's been fun," he smiled.

"It has," you agreed. You opened your mouth to add something, but Agnes appeared with her notepad to take your order.

By the time your mushroom risotto arrived, you were both three large glasses of wine deep. Food dampened the effects of the alcohol a little, keeping you from teetering over the edge from tipsy to drunk and by the time dessert finally arrived, a crème brulée for you and a chocolate mousse for him, you were feeling pleasantly buzzed, having managed to cut yourself off from wine when the first bottle was finished. 

Conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Beau but soon enough you ran out of topics and you directed the conversation towards the bet. 

"So, first person to spill the beans loses and pays for all lunches and coffees til I leave," you said.

"We get to be as embarrassing as we want," he said, pausing to take a sip of his wine, "Provided we don't do anything that gets us arrested, fired or court marshalled."

"You're no fun," you grinned, "But it sounds sensible. I'm in," you added, "When does it start?"

"Now?" He asked and you shrugged. Beau stood up. You thought for a second that he was getting up for a smoke break as he had done twice already, but he looked at you with a strange expression. Giving you a mischievous smile, he knelt down on one knee, producing a small black box from his pocket. 

"I suppose there's only one thing left to ask you then," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear it, "Y/n L/n, will you marry me?" He asked, so loud that it cut through the noise in the restaurant. Conversation stopped, the live band put down their instruments and everyone waited with bated breath for your answer.

"I despise you," you whispered, "Yes, I will," you replied, the restaurant erupting in cheers. Acting the part, you stood up and beckoned him up, pulling him into a hug.

"I told you I'd make you pay," he spoke into your ear. 

He pulled away, opening the ring box and taking your left hand in his to slip it onto your finger. As soon as it touched your skin, the black band turned pink.

"Huh, apparently that means you're nervous about something," he said, barely holding in a laugh.

"You better pray no one asks to see the ring because I swear I will tell them you proposed with a mood ring," you threatened, and, still acting like the excited fiancé, you stood up on your tiptoes and planted a kiss straight onto his lips. 

The second your lips made contact, fireworks went off in your head, your heart skipped a beat and you felt so dizzy and electrified you could barely think straight, which, in truth, might have had more to do with the wine than the kiss, and you hoped the blush that covered your face would be blamed on embarrassment rather than the giddy excitement of having kissed your longtime crush. 

You broke apart when a smartly dressed server appeared. Unlike Agnes, he wore slacks and a waistcoat, covering his perfectly ironed button up. 

"Compliments of the owner, sir," he said, presenting Beau with a bottle of champagne

"Thank you," Cyclone replied, rousing himself from his stunned silence. 

Both of you sat back down and you smiled, pleased to see that the kiss hadn't only had an effect on you.

[quiveringdeer]

aot guys: boyfriend does your makeup challenge

reiner: knows what everything is because he loves standing in the doorway to watch you get ready any chance he gets. has also asked you questions about it before while sitting with you. he finds it so relaxing. reminds me of the guy in a video that FaceTimes his girl to talk about their days while she does her makeup. also actively pays attention to the brands and colors you prefer buying when you're out shopping together. but just cause he's watched you apply everything and technically knows the steps, he doesn't have the steadiest hand or smoothest application skills. gives it a valiant effort and it doesn't look half bad in the end!

jean: an artist so at least he gets color theory? lol But feels completely overwhelmed when presented with the task. Even if you aren't someone that has a bunch of things to choose from. Does have the common sense to read any labels to see what an item is for tho. So whether for eyes, lips, blush, etc. Takes soooo long with your eyeliner because he wants to try and do the winged eyeliner he's seen and wants it to be perfect. He's not used to such a tiny brush though, or the fact that skin moves and pulls with the pressure of the brush unlike canvas or paper. But he's a quick learner. In the end everything looks good! blended well and wings sharp enough to slice a titan! he's so proud when you tell him how well he did!

connie: taking this opportunity to experiment with a bunch of wild colors you'd never wear. doesn't care to look at what each thing is for. just chooses by color, texture, shinyness. claims he has some artistic direction/ theme he's being inspired by but is talkin straight out his ass. as soon as he's done and you get a look in the mirror 🤡🤡🤡... you are reaching for the makeup wipes cause WTF Connie?? He's laughing but swearing up and down he legit tried and thinks you look cool. 😒

marco: this sweetie!! I headcanon he grows up with older sisters and has watched them put on makeup before. therefore he knows pretty quick and easily what is used for what part of your face. knows a bunch of little tricks he's seen/heard his sisters talk about. Like using an index card edge or scotch tape to get a perfect wing. Or being sure to do the bottom lash mascara first so when you're opening your eyes wide the top lashes won't leave marks on your eyelids. best way to apply lashes. he knows so much! contouring and such is beyond his depth but he's got you dolled up ready for a date night on the town or photoshoot worthy in no time at all!

bertholdt: he's so nervous. when isn't he? lol he ends up choosing the minimal look to avoid messing up too badly. applies your eyeliner just to your top lid and gives the tiniest little baby wing from the corners. no eyeshadow. uses some blush on your cheeks that isn't a super bright or noticeable color cause he's scared to overdo it. bypasses the foundation and concealer. claims there's nothing about your face that needs to be concealed because you're so beautiful. surprisingly chooses a bold lip color though. he thinks it suits you. and turns bright red when he mentions liking when you leave lip prints on him but completely forgot this was all being recorded. he wants to curl into a ball and die of embarrassment but it's so cute!

porco: you think this is going to be a disaster. you're actually pretty surprised when he's picking up things and you're asking him what it is and he knows it exactly without having read the label. apparently he's paid closer attention to you getting ready than you getting ready than you ever thought. His hands are also steady as he holds your chin and gently turns your face to whatever angle he needs to apply your eye makeup. does take a long time though cause he's determined to make everything look perfect. he claims it's cause he doesn't want it to look sloppy and get roasted in any comments. it actually looks really good in the end, something you may have done yourself. but you tease that he's never allowed to complain about you taking a long time to get ready, ever again.

[imaginmatrix]

Hiiiiii just for fun I thought I’d show some irl examples of how imagine the characters in aoyaom— as always this is about ✨vibes✨ only, I don’t really think of these as “face claims” or EXACTLY how I think they’d look, but certain features capture a tangential feeling of you get me?

Anyway, here are the candidates for Academia’s Next Top Models— imagine them as slightly more realistically pretty, whatever that means? Like these same people pictured, but without a team of skin and hair and makeup artists and a lot of money for whatever treatments or physical alterations they want. People who would make you double take if you passed them on the street, but don’t look like they stepped out of an Instagram filter. Anyway.

Spoilers for aoyaom ahead!

Annabeth Chase

Pictured: Tetiana Kizko, Dorit Revelis (but older lol— maybe Annabeth in college?), Morgan Crabtree, and Julie Hocke

Honestly for her, I just focused on hair hair hair. But also I need her to have features that are like Percy said in the epilogue: soft or sharp depending on lighting and mood and stuff. But towards the beginning of the story, she’d probably look a bit more haggard and worn down than this— I imagine circles under the eyes, her poor hair heat styled smooth, and just a constant scowl on her face that makes some people (like Becky) just not notice how pretty she is at first (not Percy tho. He noticed right away.)

Luke Castellan

Pictured: Leif Stacey, Rudi Dollmayer, and Danny Smith

At first I was like “what does near 40/already 40 year old Luke even look like?!?!” because when I wrote most of aoyaom, the oldest I saw him in my head was like. 30. Similar vibes to how I pictured him in the og series as a kid (except he was barely over TWENTY in those, GOD) but then I found a photo of Leif Stacey specifically and went “oh that’s him.” A guy who’s clearly older, but young woman would still find him REALLY attractive. Charming, put together, chiseled, does good work in education, but also a total secret scumbag in one particular area— 😬 ……. I would probably be in the same position as Annabeth if I were a freshman in college, because I’m very dumb!

Percy Jackson

Pictured:

Okay listen. I. Hate. Looking for real life men who remind me of fully-adult Perseus Jackson. I hate it. None of them ever have the right vibe for me!

Evans Nikopoulos is maybe the closest? Maybe????

And Arthur Gosse is in there I think??? But I’m not even sure he’s a good fit either— idk he looks like a different man in every photo I see of him and I can’t figure out if there’s just 2 different models with this name or what!!! who even are these people? Heck if I know! Whenever I find a dark haired man on Pinterest, for all I can tell his name is Damien Alexander Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and he only exists in wattpad’s very own “The Alpha’s Maître d’: Part Seven of the Lust Devourer Mafia Werewolf Fated Mates Cycle Part 2 Chapter 12” or whatever WATTPAD LOVES THEIR DARK HAIRED BOYS!!!!! PINTEREST’S DARK HAIRED MAN SELECTION IS ONLY POPULATED WITH WATTPAD FACE CLAIMS!!!!!!! Finding the names of these men is a total nightmare!!!!!!!

Mike Pishek is there too. I seriously labored in the Pinterest mines, and then there’s only like one specific photo of each of these men that feels like “Percy” ish to me

I think one of them is Daniel Illescas. I don’t know anymore.

Percy is just HARD because you need a guy who is intense, but can clearly be silly and have a good sense of humor and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, who can be flirty then smoldering, but then is incredibly good natured but a bit of a rebel— I hate this man there’s a reason he doesn’t exist. I never want to look at skinny pretty people on Pinterest ever again.

I was planning on doing more, but then…

Piper. Oh my GOD Piper. If I thought trying to find “Percy vibes” was hard… that’s just a whole dark haired white man. There’s trillions of those. I was trying to find a Native American woman who was specifically of Cherokee descent for Piper, and I spent almost 7 hours scouring the internet for literally any actress or model who could fit, and I’m pretty sure I’ve just. Completely lost my mind. And it certainly doesn’t help that so many results are just… disgusting displays of stereotypes!!! Maybe I wasn’t using the right search terms in google, but GOD it was just. A nightmare. It’s dire out there. I knew it would be but. I gave myself such a migraine trying to do her justice. I found ONE woman who was a model I think? In the 90s? There are so many beautiful Native American actors and models and people, yet it’s still like this! And maybe it would be fine to just use any indigenous women, as long as they’re from a tribe, but I don’t want to treat them interchangeably I guess— I don’t knooooow anyway that whole search gave me a temporary eye Twitch and destroyed any remaining dregs of my hope in society, and killed my will to keep finding examples for other characters, but I will absolutely try again!!! She deserves it!!!!!!

Anyway let me know who you’d like to see. Hopefully I will not have another breakdown. It’s probably fine.

[narrativelysignificantturtleduck]

Also a very minor throwaway part of that post but it annoys me so much that line “not sexist like the water tribe” like I cannot Stand when ppl act like the FN is actually superior in that regard bc they allow women on the frontlines of their imperial death machine … (tho ig it could fit w like. what you were talking about like how western countries like to brag about how they’re so much more progressive when they’re not- like ig the FN could try and spin things that way? but ugh)

(sorry, you don’t have to answer this i just got annoyed lol)

no i thought about this too because even if you see allowing women in the military as the pinnacle of equality, if you actually look there aren't many (if any at all) female soldiers when the gaang runs into fire nation troops in the earth kingdom, you mostly only see them in the fire nation domestic forces and as prison guards at boiling rock and iroh's prison. and they're wearing skimpy midriff-baring uniforms. the artbook even says that women make up a majority of the domestic forces. wow, there's absolutely no sexism in having women only in the domestic forces in special revealing uniforms. it totally means there's gender equality.

also everything about how azula and her girl squad conduct themselves speaks to how women learn to navigate sexist systems. all the other firebending threats are these brash, aggressive men (zhao, ozai, zuko), but azula schemes and plots and takes down ba sing se not with brute force, but by infiltrating in makeup and dresses, by taking advantage of people underestimating her. they really do stage a coup with the power of their gossip giggles! the pressure mai was under to be quiet and compliant, ty lee's cultivated cute and ditzy persona hiding how she can fuck you up, and azula's ability to scheme, all reflect how women in sexist societies are treated and cope with that treatment.

furthermore, i think water tribe sexism might be kind of overstated because we don't get much southern water tribe development. yes, sokka was sexist, the men of the tribe left to go to war and the women stayed behind, but in hama's flashbacks waterbenders of all genders are seen fighting the fire nation raids. kanna fled the north for the south - surely she wouldn't do that if she knew she'd be faced with exactly the same treatment. katara is totally surprised to find out that women aren't trained in combat waterbending. my guess is that while there were roles, they weren't nearly as rigid. sokka, having put all his eggs into the basket of "be the male warrior and protector while the men are gone" is perhaps taking this to a greater extreme than the average water tribe member, and he unlearns it pretty quick - almost as if it wasn't THAT entrenched, and it was more about his personal worldview than his cultural beliefs.

the main change i would make to atla is adding another episode between "the waterbending master" and "the siege of the north" where we get -

a) some insight into why the two water tribes have grown so different. i think likely the war had an impact on gender roles in both nations, with the north retreating from the world and becoming stagnant and traditionalist while the south had to have everyone fight out of necessity. maybe some flashbacks to life in the southern water tribe, a kanna appearance maybe.

b) an improved pakku storyline, where he's more sympathetic and interesting. if we're going to have him be katara's waterbending master and a member of the white lotus, he needs to be less of a jerk for no reason

c) aang learning healing from yagoda. we need to establish that the problem is gender roles, not that healing is an inferior form. maybe we see other men joining him in yagoda's class and women joining pakku's class, as he and katara learn from both of them. when they see pakku at ba sing se in the finale, he tells them that yagoda is at the white lotus camp too.

(and this scene happens offscreen)

d) some cute scenes of sokka & yue bonding

i think another water tribe centric episode would do a lot to make fandom less weird about things like this. it wouldn't entirely fix the problem - the problem is that we live in a racist society - but it would at least give us more canon evidence to refute it.

[dislifeismid]

li ling (or maybe a character you think it would be into that or who suits it better) with a s/o with flat chest, pretty please? :')

i horrendously envy big breasts because they look more attractive (to me, at least), but i would love for someone to appreciate my flatness 🥲

As a member of the big tiddy club; our backs are crying. It's not worth it 🥲 but, i will say, you usually envy what you don't have. Always. Everyone ik who has big tibbies want smoll tibbies, everyone i know with smoll tibbies want big tibbies. We're just always unfair to ourselves 😞

Male espers w a flatchested s/o (afab,?)

Li ling

It's ok babe he has enough to share

How is it fair that he would need a bra as a man

Doesn't really understand why you'd be self conscious??? You're??? Perfect???

I'll say this til i die Li ling is everyone's biggest supporter and cheerleader.

If you want to get surgery for breast augmentation or something he'l make zero rude comments about it "if that's what ya wanna do babe!! 💕💕"

Not like he wouldn't go "awww noooo ur perfect the way u areeee", but, if you wanna do something, do it? It's YOUR body, not his, yknow?!

But like yeah he thinks you're perfect either way!!

Narmer

Will make you feel worshipped anyway

So so so so loving regardless of your chest size

Will treat you no different.

Will hush you and shower you with loving words in that soothing loving voice of his 🙄💕

Leon

He likes smaller tibbies anyway.

Larger breasts he just zones out like "damn. I envy to be as strong as this woman's back."

He also finds super large ones to look kinda fake. Even when they are real.

Rolls his eyes at Alexa probably

Thinks smaller chests are cute. Thinks you're very cute. Would hold you gently.

David

He knows plenty countries in which the beauty standard is smaller breasts

He knows how to dress to compliment smaller breasts

He just KNOWS how to get your confidence up regardless

Will rip your phone outta your hands sometimes with a "quit lookin at all those photoshopped-24-hours-in-makeup girls it's rottin your brain!"

Yeah yeah, 'you know', everyone does but it still affects wether you want it to or no 😞

Odo

Just gives me excuses to write for him

He's familiar with the subject. What with having 6 sisters all with varying breast sizes, all of them envying the others at some point and obviously complaining to him about it. (Being the only parent figure left in this darn house)

He won't try to dress you in ways to compliment you, he'l work extra hard to make sure you know you're still extremely sexy and amazing with no need for clothes enhancing your figure.

Odo's entire life has been dedicated to making people live happier with themselves, you are not leaving his domain until you are so confident in your body ok-

So so so so so so so so SO loving and gentle and 🙄🙄

It's like, he'l gaslight you.. into loving yourself. Like it's definitely brainwashing-looking but he is literally just doing nothing wrong-

He looks shady doing anything he didn't choose to be this way tho ok lol

Tang xuan

BRUHV WDYM HE LOVES YOU SM

HE THINKS YOU'RE SO HOT

TANG XUAN LIKES SMOLL TIBBIES WOMEN NAH IMM SORRY I DONT MAKE THE RULES I ENFORCE THEM.

HE THINKS SMOLL TIDDIES ARE PRETTIER.

Like he still enjoys mommy milkers but that's just his preference he likes small to average booba

Loves to go shopping with you and get like matching stuff or to dress you up he KNOWS what complimente your body shape

Nah if you lack confidence in your chest this. This. HE is your ride or die!!!

Tang yun

Mfo how is your ass thiccer than your FEMALE BODIED S/O

I don't think he just pays any attention to that. He'l use your chest as a pillow regardless. Okay you might have no tiddies but like those are still HIS tiddies???! 🤨🤨

Probably least likely to even care about how curvy his s/o is. He barely pays attention to his own curves you think he's gonna notice others's????

He doesn't really understand your insecurities if you have them. He's pretty bad at cheering people up too so erm... yeah