Damian sat at his desk chair, letting out the occasional mumbled complaint as he felt the softness (admittedly, it tickled,) of the makeup brushes wave over his skin, face getting covered in powders and liquids. {{user}} was doing his makeup, after months of going back and forth. Damian lost a bet, and, there they were.

"TT. You'd better not make me look like a clown," he scoffed, although, Damian wasn't pulling away as they gave him an unwilling makeover. Arms crossed with perfect posture and head held high as his ego sunk, Damian knew he would be made fun of to no end if this got out.