#make up day

[fangolf-daily]

5

When they go on dates...

Golfball your UGLY/silly

[naniwa-archive]

Make Up Day - Naniwa Danshi

[English Translation | YouTube Ver.]

Tu ru tu tu tu tu tu

Yeah...

Tu ru tu tu tu tu tu

Alone at dawn 

Facing the mirror

Asking, "What color should I paint with?"

24H, 24H (24H)

Always vivid, vivid (So bright)

Because the world changes depending on how you feel

The seasons that were monochrome (seasons)

Meeting you added color to them

(All) The different colors 

(Want) I want to collect them all

Life is wonderful

The scenery no one knows 

I will search that with you

I will add colors to the secrets and wishes in your heart too

Dye it, Shine it, Blur it, Mix it

So beautiful

Along with the colors 

Make up!

Every one second spent will surely turn into

Never-ending eternity

Tears that can't be seen

That won't disappear

Someday will be a Message that shines bright

Wow yeah...

Make Up Day!

The scenery no one knows 

I will search that with you

I will add colors to the secrets and wishes in your heart too

Dye it, Shine it, Blur it, Mix it

So beautiful

Along with the colors 

Make up!

Tu ru tu tu tu tu tu

Let's make up my day!

Tu ru tu tu tu tu tu

MV:

[graha-stan-account]

Clear: Day 14

Clear: n. free of any obstruction or unwanted objects. 

Make-up post! 

Present. Self-restraint is not G'raha's strong suit. Still, somehow he's holding himself back from the thing he desperately wants to do. Thankfully, he has an enabler. Post-6.0. 

FFXIVWrite 2023 Masterlist

--- 

If bringing Etheirys back from certain doom seemed like an insurmountable task, G'raha Tia couldn't recall. The events of the past months felt a blur, a flurry of running two and fro, a breathless dream, even. On the other hand, these stacks of paperwork were very, very real. It had only been a few weeks since the Students of Baldesion began to accept new requests, but the speed with which they flooded in stirred dread which not long ago might have overtaken him. 

Part of the problem was the requests which had arrived before the End of Days had been averted hadn't been sorted out. As he and Krile sifted through the missives, it became evident a good amount of them were no longer relevant, given the circumstances. 

But they could not simply be tossed away wholesale. No, they needed to be examined by hand, each and every one. For all the magic he could wield, G'raha lamented he had not studied the art of conjury nearly enough to call up a familiar to help with even these menial tasks. 

He eyed the piles before him, each indistinguishable from the last. One of these stacks had been sorted, though. He was unsure which. 

He picked up a sheaf of paper and skimmed the page. It was not expired, as they'd taken to calling obsolete requests, but was it a priority? No, however... could it be taken care of quickly? Well... 

"Leave already. Go!" G'raha started at the sound of Krile's voice, the sheaf he'd been examining becoming a crumpled bouquet in his hand. He turned to face her a moment later, Krile standing with hands on her hips, staring with wide-eyed scrutiny at G'raha. 

"I-I'm working as fast as I can, Krile." He turned back to his work, wiping the newly-formed sweat from his brow. "Before we can begin to delegate these requests, we must prioritize them f--" 

"You're useless, Raha!" she shouted, her voice resonating up into the rafters. His posture stiffened and she dropped her pretense of anger, smiling knowingly. "Ever since J'napha stopped by you sigh and sigh and reshuffle the same pile. You know which request you ought to prioritize." 

G'raha blinked vacantly at her, tilting his head in lack of comprehension despite the burning in his face. 

"Go and see her!" She shoved at his thigh. "It wasn't an idle invitation. Have you lost your sense?" She paused a moment, and began again softer this time: "Go and see her." Her smile warmed all the way up to her eyes. 

"I..." He cleared his throat. "There is much yet to be done. I cannot bring myself to leave you on your own." 

Krile tapped her chest. "Raha, I haven't been alone. Besides, Ojika agreed to help me." 

"When did he agree to that?" 

"While you were sighing and fretting over that discard pile just there!" She covered the stack of paper with a slap of her hand. "Raha, I know you have simply been out of your head since everyone scattered to the four winds. Do you not think this is difficult for her, too? If she's calling on you, I see no reason to stand her pretending you're not ready to jump out of your skin for want of catching that next airship. Go. See her." She studied him a moment longer in silence, his expression still murky. "I'll file a request myself if it'll get you out of here faster." 

"Your point is made, Krile." G'raha chuckled, struggling to tidy the piles before him with trembling fingers. 

"Bah! All the wild things you do and yet this is what gives you pause." 

"If something comes up, do not hesitate to reach me via linkpearl. I won't be gone long." 

"Consider your schedule cleared!" She pushed him toward the big double doors of the main hall. "Besides, I'll do better with a helper who's not as lovesick by half!" 

"Krile!" 

"Give your lovely Warrior of Light my regards!" 

[theimperialnuisance]

FFXIV WRITE 2022 //ffxivwrite info//prompt list//characters//master post// Prompt nine: Yawn | verb; involuntarily open one's mouth wide and inhale deeply due to tiredness or boredom.| Word count: 464 Characters: G’raha Tia and Kien Eilath  CW: None. It’s more fluff :3 Notes: Minor spoilers for Shadowbringers past 5.3

It was just past sunrise when G’raha begins to stir from his slumber. The soft sun rays just barely peek through the curtains as the red-haired Miqo’te carefully sits up to stretch, letting out a quiet yawn. Beside him, Kien lets out a hum, still fast asleep and it reminds G’raha that yesterday’s events, battling Elidibus, waking up in his younger self back on the Source, had in fact, not been a dream. 

He chuckles quietly to himself, carefully lowering to a propped position on his side in order to gaze fondly at the other. How unusual it was to see Kien still slumbering peacefully as the sun crept higher in the sky. Back when they were on the First, it was normally G’raha who would awaken to Kien already up and about but it was no small wonder to see him finally catching up on some much-needed and well-deserved rest now that they were home. 

It was a wonderful feeling, waking up next to him and what made the feeling all the more wonderful was knowing he was no longer on borrowed time. Mayhap that’s why he slept so peacefully for the first time in many moons and mayhap it was why Kien didn’t default to his usual habits of waking up before the sun. As he reaches out to brush a stray stand of hair from Kien’s face, the other begins to stir. He inhales a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open and a small smile spreading across his face as his mismatched eyes meet those of crimson. “Good morning, Raha.” 

G’raha feels his heart flutter in happiness. Kien had only just dropped the formality of his name yesterday when he woke up in the tower so hearing him say it first thing in the morning was the sweetest sound he would cherish forever. He leans in to place a soft kiss on Kien’s forehead, replying softly, “Good morning, my warrior. Did you sleep well?"

Kien slowly shifts under the blankets and stretches. “Very well,” he replies with a yawn. “I don’t recall the last time I slept in this late. Did the first bell go off?”

"Not quite," G'raha replies. "It's only a little past the sunrise."

"We've got some time then," Kien smiles as he scooches closer to the other, his tail resting lazily on his thigh. "We're not supposed to meet the others until the noon bell."

"Oh?" G'raha lays back down again and pulls Kien closer to him. "Then I selfishly want to keep you to myself a little longer this morning."

"No complaints here," Kien replies as he melts into G'raha's embrace. They share a soft kiss and it wasn't too long before they dozed off again, warm and happy to be in each other's embrace.

[thefreelanceangel]

FFXIVWrite2022 - #11 (Makeup Day) “Channel”

Moving from one realm to the next required more than an expenditure of will or aether. Although she’d been drifting from one to the other for... who knew how long, depending on the duties laid upon her, Pythia always felt disoriented when she left one heaven and moved to the next. 

And channeling Azeyma’s fire in order to withstand the sheer vibrancy of the Heaven of Fire always left her gasping a bit. Made her grateful for the banisters broad enough to be leaned on as she as went from one step to the next. Pythia didn’t often wonder how much longer she could serve--she took her life in stride, one duty to the next--but when the wash of divine power left her weak-kneed and immobile for long moments...

Perhaps no one mortal, no matter how devoted, could hope to serve the gods for as long as they themselves existed.

[desertarchaeo]

Prompt 23: Pitch (make up day!)

Thea hated these days. In her not so humble opinion, this was the worst thing that can happen to her in her admittedly short life on this star.

Following behind her mam, sulking the whole way, they made their way to a clearing a good hour’s walk north of the main village. Her mother gave her a shove towards the empty buckets near the clearing’s edge and sent her on her way to check taps in the pine groves. She hated this. Pine sap was sticky, smelled like the awful potions one of the healers fed her when her nose was stuffed up, and she would much rather be hunting.

She stomped and fumed and sulked and bitched as she moved through the groves, emptying sticky sap into her buckets. Next time, she assured herself, next time she helped herself to the entire jar of rolanberry cookies, she would hide it better. Then she wouldn’t be on pitch duty.

Trudging back to the clearing, her buckets were passed to viera wearing thick leather aprons to dump into the cauldron buried in the center. This was repeated, numerous times, throughout the day and Theas shoulders were beginning to ache and she wanted to dive into a spring and never leave. She felt gross and filthy and deeply regretting getting caught with the cookies.

As the day tended to dusk, she was finally relieved of her duties and led back home with her mother.

***

As Thea sat in her tent one night many years in the future she would reflect on the memories of pitch days and how her tiny self would be horrified to learn that she, Thea, had spend the better part of four days trying to corral morbol sprouts, willingly, for a very eager botanist back in Sharlayan. That no amount of sticky pine sap or boiled pitch would ever compare to the absolute vile feeling of being vomited on by a morbol, sprout or no.

She would really love one of her mam’s rolanberry cookies right about now though.

[theshroudwolf]

Prompt 19: Destruct

(Make up)

The wreckage of the Magitek Reaper lay in flames, the Ala Mhigan's axe lay broken beside it. Wounded and bloodied, Chris stands and pulls the body from the wreckage and more importantly his weapon. Garlean issue gunblade. Chris had martial prowess with many arms but this one was different. He could handle a sword, but the gun attached made it different. Still he rummaged through the fallen soldiers clothes for the bullets and upon finding a handful, pockets them.

Looking up as the red moon descends, the battlefield still heavy with chaos, he had one mission on his mind. Wiping blood from his head and minding his broken armor, he knew it was foolish to run back into the thick, but with time against them and the looming doom above them getting closer, his path was clear.

----------

A battalion of Alliance soldiers, pinned down by the onslaught of bullets and Reaper blasts lay in wait, their fate seeming to be sealed. More gunshots echo, but from the opposite direction. The blue haired Ala Mhigan walking slow, his leg injured, trudging on with purpose let's another volley of shots. His aim was poor but it was enough to distract and cause the dominant force to falter.

"Retreat when clear! Do not engage! Scatter and stagger your escape path!" Two more shots fire until the chamber empty. Finding cover, he reloads his weapon, and taking a moment to throw the empty shell casing at the opposing force. Any distraction is a welcome one here. Watching as a few of the unit make retreat, green eyes glow before a fireball hurled at the Reaper takes flight. Missing wildly, it served as distraction again, letting another small number retreat.

Emerging from cover, he let's more untrained shots fly, one even hitting a hostile. He advances again, still in a lumbering walk. Eyes glowing again as he holds up his hand, frost forming on it while he moves in. The Reaper aims and fires at him while the soldiers move to advance and not let the Alliance have these survivors. The Reapers blast hits near, a large shattering of ice and debris provides cover.

"All units retreat! Fall back now!" Chris jogs, the fastest he can move with his wounds and rushes. The attention placed on him as he fires off the rest of his rounds. Another soldier down as he enters the thick of it, the blade carving ferociously through one man to the next. Wading through enemy forces as if he had a deal with death to deliver in full, he reached the Reaper, blade finding the hoses which fuel the machine and carving through them, fuel pouring forth as the Reaper moves to launch one final attack before system shut down. His one hand still forming ice erecting a wall just before the blast fires and sets off a violent explosion, shattering the wall and exploding the machine.

---------

It was hard to tell how long it had been. Chris woke up in an infirmary, a full beard being his only gauge of time. His leg was never the same. He didn't know if the battalion he saved made it out in the end. He was informed of the losses of his family due to the falling of Dalamud. The only thing he was certain of was he was not done in this world yet. Destruction follows him in some varying form.

[shaelstormchild]

Prompt 18: Panglossian

Nabi was a fool.

Only fools smiled like that, Shael thought. What was there to even smile about? What gall did this Xaela have in greeting her cheerfully, after Shael had wrecked her stall? The Highlander didn’t offer an excuse, not to the herbalist nor the bodyguard of hers, Tserende. It was none of their godsdamn business how many nights she had gone without sleep. What did they care if her body felt like it would collapse from exhaustion but also couldn’t sit still at the same time? Her muscles twitched with the disturbing sensation like fire ants were crawling under her skin. But if imaginary bugs were all her troubles, then she’d knock herself out and be done with it. 

But then the nightmares came whenever she did manage to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, scenes of that sun always replayed like a broken recording in her mind. Nights waking up screaming, drenched in cold sweat. She’d been plagued by troublesome dreams before, years ago, but now there was no break in it. Not since Shooey.

But none of that concerned the au ra. Why hadn’t the Xaela reported the vandalism to the Sekiseigumi? Shael supposed she herself could have reported the Ishgardian mercenary for breaking her hand, but that would just bring up the reason why the retribution was necessary in the first place. But moreover, Shael was never the one to snitch to the authorities.

Mayhap this Tserende was an idiot too. Hiring her after breaking her wrist. Who hires a known thief? With the handicap that they themselves caused?

Still, Shael sat at the edge of her bed, looking to the splint that the Xaela had made. The woman had blathered on while tending to her wrist, about how Tserende could use some help in whatever he did. She was glad that the Highlander also hailed from the West, and that the two possibly had some things in common. 

Sure. Penchant fer violence. Shael scoffed.

Why did this Xaela visit her daily to check in on her, bringing her strangely shaped rice balls and curiously smelling teas? How did she honestly look her in the eyes, give her that bright smile of hers, and start talking to her like she cared? It must be an act she puts on, just to get others to be at ease around her. But why? Shael wasn’t even paying her. She had no money.

She could just avoid her. Leave before she came. But... Shael still sat there, waiting. The Xaela had prattled on about trying to make some herbal cigarettes after finding out that the Highlander liked them. Shael hadn’t had a smoke in awhile. Mayhap that would be worth waiting on. 

That was the only reason for waiting, Shael told herself. It wasn’t for the neatly packed meals, nor the attentive care to her injuries. And especially not because listening to the Xaela made the bugs disappear for a while. 

It definitely wasn’t that.