#well. my portfolio grows

[thatfizzyyyy]

if it was the 80s they could hire me to be a graphic designer and i could make 70k a year dicking around on the computer

[we-r-loonies]

my textiles exam finished today! portfolio work since january, and a 10 hour exam... and now its over. weird.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Someone mentioned their story in my tags, and it riled me up so I'm going to say this to whoever needs to hear it:

You are not in the wrong when asking for Black characters to be drawn more respectfully!

Especially if you are paying someone real whole ass money!!! If their skin is ashy or greenish, or their hair is not the afro texture you asked for, or they blatantly drew a white person and filled them in, you have every right to say so. "It's just color theory" it is not color theory to be racist. Please. Even if it makes you uncomfortable to confront, I want you to know that if you choose to do so, you are not in the wrong to ask to be depicted like the human being you are. That's on the artist!

That being said, I'll say it again: make sure you are looking at artists' portfolios beforehand! You can avoid this situation altogether. Just because they have a gorgeous art style, does not mean they'll draw you well in said style! If there is no one Black amongst their work, or even in the content that they share... You are taking a higher risk! Some artists will listen to constructive criticism and grow, and were worth it. Others... 😬🤷🏾‍♀️ But you certainly don't have to settle for demeaning work!

[ironmanstan]

.

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

 “Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet. 

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

[prototypesteve]

“Phase.”

Hi. I’m Steve. I’m one more bit of evidence that asexuality isn’t a phase, or something you grow out of, or something that time “cures”. I’m proof you don’t necessarily change when you meet someone, or when you get past the chaos and uncertainty of youth.

I’m 52, and while there wasn’t a formal word for it back then, I’ve been what we now call aromantic and asexual since at least age 12.

I’ve met lots of people, made friends (just friends) with plenty of them. Had two disastrously failed “just fake it till it feels real” relationships, one in my mid-20s, one in my mid-30s, and came right back to aromantic asexual after each. Career’s good. Money’s good. Normal, perfectly healthy, suburban, well-travelled, fully-realized adult who even looks after their dental and mental health. I have hobbies, an investment portfolio, a decent car, too many bikes, a busy social calendar, all the usual adulting stuff, and despite all that I still have absolutely no feelings of sexual or romantic attraction.

It’s not a phase.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

JJK Men Getting Jealous

Feat. Gojo and Megumi

CW: Random guys being creeps, harassment, attempted kidnapping (or so he thinks), reader has female pronouns and anatomy, light swearing

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo Satoru

The two of you were enjoying your date at the park when Gojo received a phone call. Normally, he would have ignored it, but you forced him to, telling that he needs to take care of his responsibilities. After all, you loved Satoru as he was, but the man needed to grow up a little.

Stepping away, he turned his back and answered the phone, immediately trying to weasel his way out of whatever assignment he was needed on.

Meanwhile, you were seated on a bench and scrolling through your phone when a street photographer approached you.

"Excuse me?" A young man was looking at you hopefully as he held up his camera.

"I'm a street photographer, and well, when I noticed you sitting here I just knew I had to capture your stunning looks for my portfolio. So would it be okay if I took your picture?"

Flattered, but a little uncertain, you replied.

"Well, thank you, but actually I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-"

He cut you off.

"Oh don't worry! This will only take a second!"

Stepping up to you, he reached out and brushed your hair back with his fingers.

"What-what are you doing?" You ask nervously, leaning away from his touch.

"Just brushing your hair back from your face! Can't have it covering those stunning features of yours now can we darling?"

He winked cheekily.

Finally finished with his call (he had managed to dump the assignment onto the three first years), Gojo turned around, ready to bask in your presence and affection.

Instead he witnessed an unfamiliar man moving his hands to your chest brushing off your shirt and smoothing the fabric.

Pausing, he took a moment to try and comprehend what he was seeing.

Then he saw you flinch and swat his hands away.

He was by your side in an instant.

"Please stop." You said firmly. "My boyfriend-"

"Is right here!"

Gojo interjected cheerfully, swinging an arm around your shoulders and using his other arm to push the photographer away as he sat next to you.

"Why don't you take a picture of me and my girlfriend?"

He suggested menacingly, looking at the man over his glasses.

"After all, don't you think we make an absolutely stunning couple?"

Needless to say, the photographer snapped a couple quick pictures of the two of you before speeding away.

"Thanks 'Toru."

You said, sighing in relief once the man was finally out of sight.

"No problem! After all, he was touching my boobies."

To emphasize what he was saying, he turned and buried his head in your chest.

He peeked up at you with puppy eyes.

"These are all mine, right?"

"Of course babe."

You laughed, and stroked his hair.

"They're all yours."

Megumi Fushiguro

While the two of you were shopping with Nobara and Yuji, you saw something that interested you and you wandered off.

Noticing that you were missing, Megumi split off from the others, and went to search for you.

Finally finding you, he couldn't help but to smile a little, because you were just so damn cute.

You were happily wandering around a manga store quietly humming to yourself as you browsed.

Moving to join you, he was shocked when a guy around the same age as you guys snuck up behind you and put you into a chokehold.

Were you getting kidnapped in front of him? He was speeding up, ready to give the guy a beatdown he wouldn't soon forget, when you flipped the guy over your shoulder.

The guy twisted gracefully midair to avoid being slammed on his back, and landed smoothly on his feet in front of you. You shot your arm up, ready to strike, but the guy easily caught your wrist.

"I told you to stop using that move, it's too predictable."

The guy said, shaking his head at you.

Pausing, you looked up at the guys face for the first time.

"TAKESHI?!"

You shrieked his name, and launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You big dummy! What was that for?! You scared the shit out of me! But never mind that, I missed you! What's going on? Why are you here?!"

Laughing he spun you around.

"Whoa. Slow down. I missed you too idiot. I missed my sparring partner and was just checking to make sure that you were keeping up with your training!"

He batted his eyes innocently as he set you on your feet.

"After all, my mom would kill me if I left her beloved unofficial daughter unable to defend herself in the big city! What if you got mugged?!"

Unable to suppress your smile you pinched his cheek.

"You just did that because you wanted to scare me. Jerk."

"Aw, you know you love me."

"Ahem."

You both turned to find your unimpressed boyfriend staring at the two of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Striding over to you, Megumi wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, giving the other guy an once over.

"I'm Fushiguro Megumi. Her boyfriend. Who are you?"

Takeshi gave you a fake wounded look.

"What? But I'M her boyfriend!"

Blinking at him, Megumi frowned.

"What?"

Stepping out of Megumi's grasp, you walked over to Takeshi and cuffed him over the head.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DATING THAT YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND!!"

"BUT I AM!!"

"YOU ARE LITERALLY GAY!"

"AND!?"

"AND YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND OF YOUR OWN!!"

Poor Megumi just stood there in shock. After the two of you worked it out with a quick wrestling match (you won) and stopped screaming at each other. You and this "Takeshi" explained that you were childhood best friends, and that Takeshi was just a jerk who liked to mess with your love life.

Needless to say, Megumi spent the rest of the day pouting, and needed lots of reassurance cuddles that he was way better than Takeshi, and you would never leave him for him.

"You would never leave me for him, right?"

"Of, course baby. He's just a friend. I love you so much more than him."

"But you love him a little bit?!"

"GUMI. HE IS LITERALLY GAY AND HAS A BOYFRIEND."

Thanks for reading! Should I make a part two with Toge and Yuji? Let me know!!

[angelic-sturniolos111]

Fresh Love Modeling 🍊

You never guessed that Chris Sturniolo would reach out for you to model his Fresh Love clothing brand. You had been following him on social media a while and definitely had a crush on him. What you didn’t know is that when Chris had seen your modeling portfolio he started crushing too. The two of you end up alone in his dressing room together after the photoshoot and things heat up.

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

entirely in Chris’s POV

warnings: cursing, flirty and smuttyyyyy

author’s note: writing this completely sleep deprived :) did not proofread lolz

I want to sit on his lap so bad in this pic

My Fresh Love brand is super important to me and I am so grateful that it has grown in popularity thanks to my fans. I want to grow this brand and reach out to creators and artists outside of the fandom in hopes that eventually Fresh Love Clothing can be sold in stores nationwide. A big part of Fresh Love, and any clothing brand, is the marketing which I take very seriously. I always want to have a diverse group of models, but ultimately they also should be attractive and have a cool aesthetic to be the face of the brand. I had sent out a model casting call last month, and my friend Tril and I were going through all the applications. Tril truly saw my vision and we were usually on the same page when it came to models we thought would work well for the brand.

Today was definitely a “work day” in the house— Nick was editing our recent car vlog, Matt was brainstorming video ideas, and Tril and I sat on the couch on our laptops going through hundreds of model portfolios together. We had been scrolling through applications for nearly two hours and I was honestly bored out of my mind. Luckily, we found a handful of models we like, but I still felt like one was missing. There was a certain look, a certain vibe, that I was looking for and I wasn’t sure what it was but I knew I’d know the second I saw them.

“Hey take a look at this one. I recognize this girl… I think she follows us on insta or something?” Tril says passing me his laptop. Damn. This girl was beyond fine. I scrolled through her portfolio pictures, and I really liked her modeling style. She didn’t look mainstream, which I liked, but she had a really unique look. “Do you recognize her?” Tril said interrupting my thoughts.

“No. I’d definitely remember her if I had seen her before.” I said. I went to the top of her application page, her name was Y/N.

“I like her portfolio and I think she’s a good fit for the brand.” Tril says.

“Absolutely. I really like her. I’m going to accept her application right now.” I said sending her an acceptance sheet back with the photo shoot information.

***

I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I always have trouble falling asleep because I’ll have a thousand creative ideas that I bounce back and forth in my head, but this time I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking of Y/N. Tril said she followed us, right? I grab my phone and open instagram and typed her name in the search bar, and her profile popped up. She was following Tril and I as well as my brothers, our group account, and our podcast account. Nice, she’s a fan! I went through her posts and God, she was stunning. I wanted to follow her, but I knew if fans saw that they’d get all sorts of crazy ideas and make assumptions so I decided I’d wait to follow her until the Fresh Love shoot would be posted so everyone knew who she was. I looked at some modeling shots she posted, laid back pictures with her friends, and I was unapologetically looking for any signs that she was dating anyone which from her profile she appeared to be single. I saw some of her swimsuit modeling shots she had done recently, and I zoomed in on all parts of her body. Her amazing body. She had these thick thighs that contoured perfectly with her cute ass. My thoughts wandered off, thinking of how badly I wanted those thighs wrapped around my head. I got hard at the thought of it. I continued to mindlessly stalk her instagram before I finally fell asleep… dreaming of her.

*** one month later ***

It was Fresh Love photoshoot day, or as I thought of it, the day I finally get to meet Y/N after crushing on her this past month. I got to the studio before any of the models were scheduled to arrive so I could talk with the photographers and mark out the spaces where I wanted to shoot. I get upstairs and see someone siting in a chair outside the photography studio. When they hear me approaching they look up, and my breath hitches in my throat, it was Y/N. My heart immediately started beating faster, but I knew I had to keep it cool both professionally and so I don’t utterly embarrass myself in front of her.

“Chris! Hey, I’m sorry I know the models aren’t supposed to be here for another hour. Honestly I was hoping to catch a moment alone with you before we shoot.” She says nervously with a big, beautiful smile on her face. She wanted to see me? Alone? I hadn’t realize I went silent for a moment while I was caught up in my thoughts until Y/N interrupted.

“Umm I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just such a huge fan of yours and your brothers, and I wanted to tell you that. Also to tell you I am so grateful and excited to be modeling for Fresh Love. I love your brand and own a few things from it already just from following you for a while now.” She says.

“Oh, no you didn’t scare me! Sorry, I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone this early. I’m happy to hear you’re a fan, and thanks for supporting my brothers and I, it means a lot. I really liked your modeling application and I’ve been looking forward to shooting with you.” I replied. I looked and sounded collected on the outside, but on the inside I was definitely nervous. I’m usually super confident talking to girls, even ones that I like, but Y/N had me acting different. She gave me a sweet smile before we walked into the studio together.

The other models started showing up as I led them to their dressing rooms where their Fresh Love clothing was waiting for them to change into. I stood in front of the backdrop for the first set of pictures and saw as the models rounded the corner all dressed in Fresh Love. Y/N wore the emerald green sweat set, and damn she looked good. The bright color just worked so perfectly with her complexion and brought out the color in her beautiful eyes. Seeing my own brand on her body drove me crazy. Man, this chick has me on a leash.

As time went by the photographers took group shots of all the models together, and some individual shots of each of them. When it came time for Y/N individual shots she was a natural. Her poses were relaxed, but strong and confident at the same time. She really wore the brand well and I was looking forward to seeing the results. She wraps up her individual shots and starts walking over to me.

“So, how did I look?” She says giving me a flirtatious look.

“Really, really great. I was thinking maybe we can get some pictures of just us two together for the Fresh Love instagram.” I said.

“Sounds great!” She says with a smile. She takes a step closer to me and leans in slightly, “Should I go change?” She asks but this time quieter so only I could hear. She makes me so nervous.

“Y-yeah. There’s, um, there’s a pair of joggers and a t-shirt in your dressing room if you want to change into that for me.” I said stuttering.

“Of course, anything for you.” She says confidently flirting with me. I think she can tell she made me nervous, and she was taking advantage of it. That’s so hot.

***

This time I was wearing the black hoodie and jogger set while Y/N wore the gray joggers and blue t-shirt. I sat on the couch we were using for the shoot, and she comes out of her dressing room to join me. She looked really great. I smiled at her and moved over so she could sit on the couch next to me.

“I’m thinking for the first few poses we just sit here kinda relaxed, looking at the camera. Then we do some where you stand behind the couch leaning over it while I sit here in front of you.” I said.

“Yeah sounds good!.” She says, and with that we start posing for the camera. The photographer has us scotch closer together, and I drape my arm behind her on the top of the couch. It was difficult to keep my eyes on the camera because all I wanted to do in the moment was to look at her. She moves off the couch to position herself behind it. “Like this, Chris?” She asks.

I turn around and see her bent over, arms crossed on the back of the couch. Fuck, her ass looks nice bent over like this. “Yeah, looks great.” I smile at her. I turn back around and the camera continues to click. We move around slightly to get different angles. She moves one of her hands to rest on my shoulder. I feel her hand slide up the back of my neck as her fingertips gently play around with my hair. The tension was palpable. I sharply inhale, a chill moving down my spine, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool much longer.

“Okay how about we call that a wrap for today. Great job everyone thanks so much for being here.” I blurt out getting off the couch, shaking a few of the photographers hands, before I quickly run into my dressing room without turning back.

***

In the dressing room I can hear the photographers packing up their gear and leave. The other models had gone home for the day, and I wasn’t sure if Y/N had left yet either. I found my answer when I hear a slight knock at the door, “Chris?” She says faintly, “Can I come in?” I’m frozen, I don’t answer before she comes into the room still dressed in her Fresh Love fit. “Are you okay? You seemed kinda frantic towards the end there.” She asks sincerely. I seriously debated telling her I liked her, but I knew that wouldn’t be professional of me.

“Yeah, I just get nervous shooting sometimes.” I lied. Y/N scoffs a little.

“You, nervous? I’ve never been more nervous for a photoshoot before. Having THE Chris Sturniolo sitting inches away for me all day long is something I had only ever dreamed of.” She laughs. “You definitely made me nervous today. God, I’m sorry I sound like such a stupid fangirl right now.” She says looking down.

“I never would have thought you were nervous. You seemed super confident today.” I say.

“Maybe. I tried to be confident so I could impress you.”

“Impress me?” I say a little surprised. She looks up and nods her head. I stand up and approach her meeting her in the middle of the room, “You’ve impressed me plenty, pretty girl.” I’m unsure of where this sudden boldness came from, but I could tell Y/N liked it when her body relaxed, and I could see her whole demeanor change. She looked up at me with seductive eyes.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she runs her hand up my arm before resting it on my chest, “I’m sure I can impress you in other ways too.” Her eyes flash from mine down to my noticeable, growing erection, and then back up to my lips. I can’t keep it in any longer. I lean down and kiss her soft lips, her hand meets the side of my face and my lips part for her to deepen the kiss moving her tongue across mine. We step back and my back hits the wall when her lips move from mine down to my neck bitting and sucking ever so gently.

“Fuck.” I moan softly. I feel her smile into my neck, and she moves a hand down to gingerly palm my boner over my pants.

“I’ve been wanting to touch you like this all day.” She says breathlessly as she pulls away from my neck to look me in the eyes.

“Oh yeah? What else have you wanted to do princess?” I ask suggestively. She smiles, and with that she drops to her knees. She hooks her fingers in the band of my sweatpants before pulling them down to my knees. She places soft kisses on my dick through my underwear, and the slight contact made me groan.

“Eager, aren’t we?” She says as she begins to pull my underwear down. My rock hard dick springs up and hits my stomach and her eyes widen while her mouth parts. She looks up at me and I begin to wrap her hair in my hand holding it back for her while the other gripped the chair next to me as I brace myself. She plants tiny kisses on my thighs on either side of my dick, and the teasing had my cock twitching with every kiss.

“Please, Y/N, please stop teasing.” I sigh. She runs her tongue from the base of my cock on the underside of my dick to the tip where she licks the precum from the slit. She swirls her tongue around my head a few times before pulling away and spitting into her hand. She spreads the wetness on my length as she pumps me a few times before wrapping her lips around my head and pushing her head forward. I let out a moan when I feel my dick hit the back of her throat. She keeps one hand tight at the base of my cock, pumping and twisting it as she bobs her head up and down on it. I’m a whimpering mess. My grip tightens in her hair as I help move her head at a steady pace. Her hand lets go of my shaft as she moves her head all the way forward, taking my full length into her mouth gagging slightly. I look down to see her already looking up at me with tears forming in her eyes. I felt my dick twitch in her mouth as I was close to cumming, but I tugged her hair and pulled her off my length before I could do so.

I move the chair I had been grabbing onto with one hand as my other reached for her chin and guided her to stand.

“Sit.” I demanded. She obliged and sat in the chair as I got to my knees and started pulling the sweatpants off of her. I caress her thighs with my big hands before pulling her thong off and I stare at her dripping wet cunt.

“Did I make you this wet?” I ask, and all she can do is shake her head. “I want you to use your words pretty girl.”

“Yes.” She whines out. “You always make me this wet.”

“Always?” I question. “Do you think about me when you touch yourself?” I ask. She nods her head again.

“Yes.” She says.

“Do you use your fingers when you touch yourself, princess?”

“Yes” she says. My fingertips move agonizingly slow up and down her folds spreading the wetness around.

“And who’s fingers do you imagine are pumping inside of you when you’re touching yourself baby.”

“Yours Chris. Always yours.” She moans out. Without warning I shove two of my fingers deep into her cunt eliciting a sweet moan from her lips. I pump my fingers in and out of her at a fast pace causing her to grip the back of my head roughly, my hair tight in between her fingers. I kitty lick her clit and curl my fingers inside her.

“F-fuck Chris.” She moans out. I continue moving my fingers in and out of her while I lay my tongue flat licking up and down her clit, sucking on it for a few seconds at a time. She pants, trying to catch her breath as she breathes heavier.

“Chris. CHRIS— I’m gonna cum.” With that I immediately pull my fingers out of her and raise my head.

“Not yet, princess. I want you to cum all over my cock for me baby.” I wrap my arms under her thighs and lift her off of the seat carrying her over to the makeup vanity counter across the room. I place her down and she stands facing me.

She reaches for the hem of her shirt to take it off, and I abruptly stop her grabbing her wrist tightly.

“Leave it on princess. I want to watch myself fucking you while you wear my clothes.”

My hands reach her waist and turn her around roughly pushing down on her upper back to bend her over across the counter. I look in the mirror to see her flushed face and eyes blown with lust. I had never been so sex hungry before. I ripped my hoodie off, and began to align my dick at her entrance. I slid the head of my dick in between her folds getting it nice and wet before I pushed in slowly making me groan loudly. Y/N gasps as I enter her, not ready for my size. I bottom out and stand still, letting her adjust to my length. Suddenly, without warning she begins to lean forward and back moving herself on my cock.

“Please move, Chris.” She begged. I smiled at her in the mirror. I started moving in and out of her with slow, hard thrusts. Her walls were warm and tight around my cock. We moaned together as I kept the steady pace.

“Chris?” She says.

“What is it princess?” I look at her in the mirror, half of her now messy hair covering her flushed pink face. She adjusts her arms to grab the front of the countertop. She lifts her chest up slightly, and the FRESH on her shirt is now visible in the mirror.

“Fuck me. Harder.” She pleads, and that was all I needed to hear. I went absolutely feral. I grabbed her hair with one hand making sure to pull her up enough that I could see her Fresh Love shirt in the mirror. My other hand laid flat just above her ass, pushing down so I could balance myself as I relentlessly thrust in and out of her tight pussy.

“Fuck. Fuck, Y/N! You feel so good pretty girl.”

“Chris, I’m gonna cum…” She whines breathlessly.

“Good girl. I want you to cum all over my cock for me.” I say back. We make eye contact in the mirror and I feel her walls clench around me sending a pulsating sensation through my cock, and I knew I was close too. Her face scrunches and she repeatedly moans my name. I feel her cunt tighten and relax around me as she comes all over my cock, and we maintain eye contact as she does.

Seeing her face while she came on my dick was what I needed. My thrusts got harder and sloppier as I felt my dick twitch inside her.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N! Oh, FUCK.” I moan loudly as I feel myself release my big load into her pussy, my cum coating her walls. I thrust a few more times riding out my high before pulling out seeing our orgasms drip out of her cunt. Y/N turns to face me, and tries to stand but fails as her knees wobble and she grabs the countertop as to not fall down. My hands grab her sides to help balance her.

“You’re amazing, princess.” I say to her. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” I place a gentle kiss on her lips before moving my hands to the bottom of her shirt pulling it up. She raises her arms up as I lift the Fresh Love tee over her head. I crouch down and gently begin wiping her clean with the t-shirt.

“Chris! Not the Fresh Love shirt!” Y/N says surprised and in a concerned tone of voice.

“Baby, it’s my brand. I can do whatever the fuck I want with it.” I smirk, earning a cute giggle from her.

**********

This was my first time writing smut and I think it’s kinda trash but lmk what your thoughts are.

- Kay 🖤

[snowlattes]

on 2018, I whimsically wanted to make personal skeletal sweaters for my personal use... who would imagine it would be the start of my apparels brand journey!! if you ever see my Seasonal Bones, which started from the Spring/Sakura design!! hi!! I am here on tumblr too, im still kinda inactive here since it's hard to maintain alot of social media, but I have been trying to keep updated my works regularly here too the reason i compiled them again this time is because Seasonal Bones series is officially retired/will no longer restocks them! this theme was the start of snowlattes & i love this design to death and will keep it close to heart <3 but as our brand grows as well, so I will incorporate new elements and material for future skeletal designs hope you'd still like the new rebranded/rebooted ones in the future!

🌸🌻🍁❄️

carrd | twitter | instagram | inprnt | store | portfolio website

[carrrrino]

HELLO I am very excited for this project! I wanted to express a concern though…it’s rather hard to find the any info on the project aside from what’s on the blog (which isn’t…very much information wise) I’m not sure if that’s an intentional decision…

I know when I first found the info I….kind of didn’t believe this?? That sounds odd. I suppose what I mean is, it didn’t seem the most legit. I did digging through the blog, read all the links, searched for a Twitter and YouTube accounts and had a hard time doing that as well…Simply because there is very little information on it. Which there’s nothing wrong with…I was wanting to suggest (as an outsider) that you and your team put more announcements/ marketing into this…?

I REALLY hope to see this project grow, it’s absolutely deserved, and very few people seem to know about it. I’d hate that to be something people miss out on. I don’t really expect an answer on this but I thought I should share the concern as an outside perspective. 💛

I really hope this project is going well for you and that it gets the deserved recognition as it’s coming out!!! So excited!!!

I'm so happy that people share the same excitement and concern for the series. Also, the fact that you guys think it's worthy of success Is truly inspiring! I think it's time I SAY something though about my current situation.

TL;DR - Our team basically went inactive after the summer; everyone returned to their lives and I'm the only one who can keep up with the project unconditionally. I didn't mean to dishearten you guys! It's a pain in the ass to work alone - excluding voice actors and SFX producers. The OUTBREAK blog will change entirely, it will be used for info and marketing. This blog will just be general art created by me (&no-namestuff). I will continue to work on the series independently, but I'll definitely give out more info as requested and make things more legit whenever I can!

Over the summer, a group of us began working on the project together, but as most of my friends returned to school and their regular lives, it became almost impossible to keep going. Currently, only a few are available to help, but they're too busy.

I didn't want to worry anyone by saying that it's basically just me working on the project; it's tough to balance animating, scripting, marketing, planning, publishing, AND funding by myself. Over time it (advertising and insightful communication) just became indifferent to me, I even considered going silent for a while until I had a mother-load of progress, but that's really not fair.

The project was a bit of a mess when we started. We didn't plan on making it a big deal, my animations were half-assed and incomprehensible; I barely knew how to work Adobe and could barely even pay it off, the sound was going to be recorded via iPhone, the script wasn't even halfway done, and voice actors weren't thought of until the Prologue. After more than six months of work, Verse 1-4 (or 6?) was deleted because of issues with the file.. this really drew the line for everyone.

So here I am, despite everything; I revised the script, which is barely halfway done, redesigned the characters, read more into the multiversal conundrums of AUs and UNDERTALE, built a portfolio, studied poses for the action scenes — and there’s still a lot that I have to learn. I'm working on Q&As, asks, and the teaser / test / project animations. I don't want people to be confused or hesitant, so I appreciate you a lot for reminding me of this. As requested, I will provide additional details about the project too :) !

No-Name's theme is in progress (thanks to Synth Mints), I've invested heavily in software for good quality animations, talented voice actors from this fandom (some you might even know) have agreed to voice for me - I'm extremely grateful for their help. Even if it takes years to release an episode or pilot, I'm still excited about the outcome. Who knows, I might even have a genuine team by then! :D

aw geez sorry for the whole bit-life story, I'm just trying to shed some light on the situation for you all. I do care, I want everyone to know that, it's just hard work.

Until the next teaser animation, please have these lil' pieces of teasers / lore as an apology!

SD by @/galacii ERROR by @/loverofpiggies / CrayonQueen

LASTLY today is my birthday yayyy 🥳🎂

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Order in the Court - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

An impromptu confession...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the hour is late. The day is spent. There are verdicts yet to pass. But it is time for you, as the bell tolls, to weigh the truth on its sliding scale of good and evil, and render judgment on the man and woman who, together, wedded forces and birthed a revolution.

Wedded?

Beg your pardon. That is a premature metaphor. The timing's not quite right.

Allow Silco, first, to summon his last witness to the stand. The one who stands by him, still. 

Sevika: please rise.

Introductions are hardly necessary. Most of the courtroom are already acquainted with her, Zaun being such a small city and all. If there's still lingering confusion over her identity, permit him to offer this small synopsis.

Sevika is the Eye of Zaun's XO. His second-in-command: stalwart right-hand to the loose cannon of a left.

Madam, please state your full name, for the record.

Sevika Mitra.

And where were you born, Sevika?

The Fissures.

And how long have you been here?

All my life.

What do you do for a living?

I fight.

And what, exactly, do you fight for?

For Zaun.

Only Zaun?

For Zaun... and for him.

You mean the Eye?

No, not the Eye.

Who, then? State his name for the record.

Sil.

The courtroom grows restless. The crowd stirs. Ghosts have that effect.

That's what dear old Sil is now: a ghost. That's to say, no longer corporeal. A pity. He might've made a more sympathetic defendant. Certainly, a more attractive one. Leather pants and a pair of twinkling blue eyes work wonders on a tough crowd.

But Sil—like the rest of 'em; good riddance to the lot—is gone.

The court must make do with his proxy: a shadowy wretch with the sinister thinness and ruthless ambition of a knife's edge. The two-faced serpent, thrice-damned in the name of Janna, who slithers at the heart of this tale.

You, ladies and gents of the jury, know him full well. You know his skulduggery, you know his sins, you know his sentence. You know, too, that it cannot be commuted.

But Sevika, standing tall, isn't here to testify on the proxy's behalf. She's here to plead for the absent: the ghost in the machine.

And her plea, ladies and gentlemen, is this:

Spare the proxy, so the ghost may live.

A bold assertion. But Sevika's a bold woman. A life-bitten beauty, all burnished bronze and brazen black. She keeps the surface of herself hammered flat. No cracks; no tells. But the longer one looks, the more one sees.  Her hardness hides a story. So, too, does her habit of standing in doorways and hoarding space around her body.  She doesn't simply stand her ground. She owns it: every square inch. 

Trespass at your own risk.

Silco, the proxy, has trespassed. More than once.  That's how he likes it: seeping into the cracks, and claiming them for himself. He claims Sevika, too, and she lets him. His favorite spot is forty-five degrees to the right. That's where her silhouette holds its place. Always a half-step behind him; just barely in his field of vision. Always within arm's reach, when the need strikes. Like a gun stowed under the table, or a dagger holstered in the thigh.

A cold comfort, but when your calling is violence, that's the most reliable kind.

Within Silco's expensive portfolio of assets, he'd list Sevika high on the priority register. As a worker, she's ruthlessly pragmatic—the type who poses common sense solutions to problems big and small. As a second, she is diligent in her duties—working as the Eye's social ally on the streets and handling his myriad affairs behind the scenes. As a woman, she is a bulwark of strength, with a ferocious temper that can reduce lesser men to ash.

Mind you. These are defense mechanisms, not character traits.

Revolution is bloody business. Sevika knows that she has only her instincts to trust. Those must be well-honed, lest a lapse in judgement put the entire operation at risk. She's got to be a bitch, and she's got to be a dragon.

But even dragons have their raw spots.  The rawest are the most closely guarded.

Take her left arm. To some, it's a disfigurement. But if that's all they see, they're missing the bigger picture. Her arm's a chronicle in three-acts. A symbol, foremost, of service to a cause. But also: of sacrifice to a higher calling.  And, lastly, of a vow: sealed in steel.

It's a vow that's kept her swinging for years, until the last shot's fired, and the last gasp's gone, and the last drop of victory's been wrung from the feeble, flailing fist of Fate.

It's her arm. But she'll use it for Zaun's sake, to the bitter end.

Zaun's, and Sil's.

What, Sevika, was the nature of your relationship with Sil?

I was his comrade.

Comrade-in-arms? Or partner-in-crime?

Both.

Were you lovers?

Yes.

Are you and the defendant lovers now?

More.

Explain yourself.

Ask the smirking jackass at the defence table.

Please, madam. Let's keep things civil. Though, it must be said, the defendant does appear rather pleased. There's a stack of papers in his hands. He's shuffling through them like a deck of cards: a crisply efficient thrrrrrrp, followed by a neat stacking, and a fluid two-fingered split.

One by one, he deals the papers out for the counsel's perusal. All the while, his mouth cuts in a slow, private smile.

One sheet's a license, signed and dated. The second's a newspaper clipping. The third, an ultrasound.

What, Madam, is the meaning of these documents?

The bastard's taunting you.

Taunting the court?

Yeah.

What gives him the gall?

Principally, he's a sadist.

Secondarily?

He knows a wife can't testify against her husband.

Madam Sevika—are you saying you're wedded to the defendant?!

I am.

The courtroom erupts. The jury's up in arms. The judge is apoplectic. His gavel's pounding like a war drum. Wedded? Did you say, wedded? This is highly irregular. What is the nature of the evidence? Is it authentic? When did the nuptials occur? Who recorded the proceedings? Where were the vows exchanged?

And, most importantly, why didn't anyone notify the bloody court?

Why, indeed.

The defendant's smirk spreads into a full-blown smile.

[beatrixstonehill2]

Soooo this rich photographer flew me out to his waterfront penthouse overlooking the city..... You know, he did what photographers do and filmed me, took pics, got me nice and drunk. He showed me his place, mind you he's in a fancy suit and I'm in this bikini, my cock is basically falling out of it and I'm rock hard the whole time I'm there. He shows me this gorgeous portfolio of other trans girls he's worked with, mostly videos on his computer, and oh my god..... I started fondling my cock as he kept showing me some of the prettiest girls I've ever seen, huge breasts, curvy asses, perfect smile, juicy cocks.... But every video ended with a shirtless man. I didn't get it and he told me not to worry, so I kept playing with my cock, sipping my wine as he showed me more.....

The videos always ended the same. Some handsome guy flexing his muscles, looking really hot tbh, most of them had beards or well-groomed facial hair, none were shaven. They all exuded the kind of masculinity I find super hot, def the kind of guys I love my plump ass to be fucked by. The photographer finally turned to me and told me the men were all the very same people as the sexy girls he showed me. He had a really big kink for convincing trans girls to detrans. I was floored, but kept jerking my cock..... He saw this and smiled. He told me he'd happily pay me 100K to detransition. I jerked super fast and nutted, drooling like a good little whore, eyes rolling back......

"100K? You want to see me become a boy that badly???" I panted, jerking my flaccid cock as it drooled more cum, soon getting erect again.....

"Just look at you, already a machine. Imagine what that cock could do on testosterone. I'd love to see you give up becoming a girl for good. Embrace being a guy, which is what you really are, princess.

I bit my lip, my cock responding so well to his words, nice and full again. "Please..... I like being a girl but I mean.... You really really wanna see me detrans, I can tell!"

"I do. I want to see you get muscular, pumped full of so much T and steroids nobody would ever know you were living as such a pretty girl, or at least a decent imitation, not that you pass, darling. You're hot but that cock is a dead give away, and you still look like a boy, but you already knew that, didn't you?" He stroked my chin.

I nodded softly. "I don't pass at all, do I?"

"Not in the slightest, you poor misguided fakegirl. I'm surprised anyone even thinks to gender you correctly. It definitely doesn't help that you're so proud of your cock and flaunt it all over social media, walking around in dresses with a full erection. You can just see people roll their eyes forcing themselves to call you a girl to be nice. But like I said, your face is still very masculine, totally a dead give away. Are you sure you aren't already growing facial hair? I swear I see a shadow."

I was blushing so hard, fully erect and jerking super hard again. "I mean, estrogen only helps so much, I started transitioning at fourteen! But by then..... and sometimes I forget to take my hormones and, ummmmm...... soooo, this is how deep my voice actually is." I used my real voice, sounding pretty much like a guy.

"Wow, I mean you still sounded like a boy pretending to be a girl before but I had no idea you basically already went through male puberty..... that explains why your cock is so huge. You you're pretty much not even a trans girl, you're a femboy with implants?"

I nodded, cumming again, shooting rope after rope. "Mmmmm, maybe? Sorry I don't pass very well..... I hope you still find me sexy...."

"Oh, all the sexier, in fact I'm going to take that fat ass of yours for a nice ride in a moment..... just after I give you your first official T-shot, so let's celebrate you no longer pretending to be a girl. From now on you'll be a good boy and masculinize yourself as much as possible, OK?"

"Yes..... sir..... anything else before you have your way with me?"

"I want you to post a video of yourself to your Instagram, talking in your real voice, that you're detransitioning and getting your DD implants yanked out next week."

"OK..... whatever you like. ❤️ I need to give up playing pretend..... thank you for helping me!"

"It's my pleasure, helping boys like you is my greatest passion."

Needless to say..... I won't be looking back, and I have a few more fakegirl friends I think I'll send his way....

[naggingatlas]

ok no im actually gonna make a post about this uh HI i've been feeling my symptoms coming up more and more lately which is a VERY unfortunate time for them to pull that number cuz 1. i have a long trip that has been in the making for like a year at the end of july and to a country where i dont know if im going to be able to get my prescriptions refilled 2. my fam has just had to pull out like 600$ out of our ass for medical expenses for 3 other family members and i just Dont wanna bother them with this. but i really need my meds. i'm slurring my speech and i can't keep track of anything that goes through my brain and it's making it really hard to finish any work that i do have (im so fucking embarrassed of how long im taking to finish comms), never mind making a portfolio and finding an actual job, which is what im supposed to be doing right now. did lend me a really interesting hallucination last week where i felt the pretzels i bought buzz like a phone in my hand for 30 seconds, that was fun i live in an a24 movie. hat man is there but he's more so just annoying

so, if you'd like to help keep me and my funny posts around, i really wouldn't mind if you. well. you know. :)

p$ypal: naggingatlas@gmail.com and not rly anything else. sorry. im moldovan.

im setting a goal of 70$ just in case i need two psych appointments to get the magic ticket and for 2 bottles of risperidone <- its kinda like estradiol it makes ur boobs grow bigger and WHO doesnt love that!!!

[batneko]

bowuigi rock star x roadie AU.

The Mario bros are still plumbers by trade, but they're friends with the guy who manages the nearby concert venue and often get roped in to help out during big shows. They're both stronger than they look, and have plenty of experience at repairs even aside from plumbing. And Luigi has always been good with machines so he takes to the new equipment with ease. Though Mario is better with people and makes friends faster, Luigi is the one that everyone comes to rely on when things go wrong.

At a concert a few years ago Mario got into an actual physical fight with the star, but since the guy was already well-known as an asshole Mario's friend pretended to "fire" him and then brought him back to help out again next week, no big deal. Just can't work the next Bowser concert, that's all.

Bowser got famous when he was only eighteen, which means he never really had to grow up. He's spent the last ten years getting his way and experiencing no consequences (as long as he punched down). However now that his son is old enough to talk about how he feels and what he wants, Bowser is starting to realize he's been absent at best and a phenomenally bad example, and wants to start being better. Too bad he has no idea how.

His star is also starting to fade, and he feels conflicted about that. He's had enough hits now that as long as he manages his portfolio well and does enough stupid celebrity appearances to keep himself in the public eye, he'll never have to work again. But he likes performing, he likes rock, he doesn't want to be the "cameo appearance by" guy. He's not even thirty yet, dammit!

So he's doing this show at a slightly-smaller venue he hadn't ever intended to return to (some little guy with a mustache tried to step to him last time), and trying to figure out how much he can cut down on touring and still be able to afford the nanny and all the stuff he likes, and some intern just told him "my grandma loves you!" and then one of the subwoofers explodes and the replacement won't work for some reason and the concert is in twenty goddamn minutes and Bowser is going to lose it.

But out of nowhere another little guy with a mustache (not the same one as before? that one got fired, right? this one's cuter anyway) turns up and fixes the replacement and gets everything back on track so efficiently that Bowser is on stage ready to go with ten minutes to spare.

Come to think of it, that same little guy had been the one organizing the roadies to unload all the equipment earlier. And Bowser's pretty sure he was running the sound check. Does he do everything around here?

In the middle of his concert as Bowser is about to start a rather raunchy song, he suddenly says, "This one goes out to the guy who fixed my subwoofer and saved the show. Come to my dressing room after and I'll thank you properly." There's laughter from the audience (plausibly-deniable bisexuality has been a part of rock music for as long as there's been rock music) and Bowser adds, "I'm not joking," and then starts the song.

After the concert, Luigi comes to his dressing room.

True to his word, Bowser is all set to get down to business, but it turns out there was some work that needed running by him and everyone figured Luigi had earned some goodwill so they made him go. He didn't even watch the concert, he was too busy working behind the scenes.

Of course this only comes out after Luigi was halfway seduced to go ahead and let an asshole rock star blow him, but Bowser is so embarrassed at the misunderstanding that he throws him out into the hallway, breathless and disheveled. A lot of people see him and a few people caught Bowser's dedication, so by the end of the night everyone assumes it happened anyway.

And that was just the Friday show. There's one more to get through tomorrow.

[caxde]

still live | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you and Eddie have been friends for ever, but have chosen to keep your feelings quiet, until a single afternoon changes it all. (2.7k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff (like a lot of it) hurt/comfort, friends in love, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

-

It had never been a question. 

You had started painting even before you learned how to talk, your house was always messy and stained because of you. As you grew up, stained carpet floors turned into stained old clothes, paint splattered all around your wardrobe, and a burning passion was developed. 

So, of course, when the dreaded question of what are you going to do after high school started going around, your answer had always been the same ‘art school’. 

But anxiety and stress were getting to you, you had been working hard on your portfolio, barely sleeping, painting canvases that were bigger than you, held by reclining it against your bedroom wall, and working in sketches nonstop, not even in the middle of class. 

He would tease you, everytime he heard the pencil scratch against the yellowish paper. He always does the same thing, he starts watching quietly, admiring the way your fingers hold the pencil ever so delicately, the way your eyes follow the grey stain so closely, concentration evident on your expression, and your hair messing your face when you look down.  When he couldn’t hold it any longer, a soft smile curves the end of his lips, as he brings his body closer to yours, and he always whispers, his voice always sweet and soft when he calls your name to get your attention. 

And he chuckles everytime you jump out of concentration as you breathe out his name. 

But today was different. 

Eddie knows you, better than anyone for that matter, and he also knows that you had been a little too stressed about it all. He knew you needed quiet company while you worked, so he asked you to come finish your last one over to his house. 

He had made his room tidier, in his own way. He cleared the floor, no dirty clothes could be seen, and the table was what he would charmingly call an “organized mess”, little piles of things in a neat position, a clean composition. Window open and clean air coming in, with a space under it so the smell of the acrylic paint can leave as fast as it comes. 

“You moved the bed.” You let out as soon as you step inside his room, looking at the open window. 

“You need to paint.” He answers, as he shrugs, trying not to give it that much meaning, even if he feels his pulse quickening as you smile grows deeper. 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem.” He answers quickly, really trying to not hyperfixate in the way your smile is caused by him, or the way it seems to illuminate the room a bit more. 

You laid the canvas against the wall, and started organizing your paint tubes in your particular way. Black, blue, red, yellow and white. The other fancy special colours away from them, the lilac, teal and silver pulled apart. 

He knew you needed your space, just as much as he knew you appreciated the quiet companionship. 

It was nice, being in the same room as him, not feeling alone, and knowing that he’ll be here when you inevitably feel tired or burned out and need a little push. 

And you liked feeling him look closely at you. Though you think he’s looking at the way the thin light blue haze is staining the pristine white of the canvas, he’s actually looking at the way your oversized, full-of-various-faded-splatters-of-paint shirt is hanging from you, the way it wraps on your waist, and the way your hair is falling down your back, your face tilted, only makes him more nervous, and in a way, realize even more that he wouldn’t do this for just anyone, so he might as well admit to himself that he does have some feelings for you. 

He played music on his guitar, quietly, and smiled deeply at the sound of you muttering the worlds of the songs he always chooses absentmindedly. Even if he only plays Bowie when you’re around. 

You're obvious to it all. You only focus on the way your hand won’t stop shaking, and you’re not even sure why, so the frustration is starting again, and with it so does the headache. You need to finish the stupid sketch so you can actually start painting, but your hand won’t stop shaking and you don’t even have a good enough reference. You’ve stopped singing and are instead biting your lip, an anxious tic that Eddie knows a bit too well. 

He doesn’t say anything, instead he stops playing, goes to the kitchen and brings two cups of tea. 

He decides to sit down beside you, and instead of startling you as he normally does, he instead leaves a soft touch on the small of your back, his fingers feeling the beginning of your jeans through your shirt. The familiar warmth left in both of your bodies. 

“Here” He whispers, a bit too close to your ear. 

You turn to him, realizing that he’s never been as close, that now you could if you wanted and had the time to count every single one of his eyelashes, and that his lips look pinker than ever. And in that moment, something seems to click, a warmth awakens in the inside of your chest, and you move a bit far away instinct kicking in. 

“Thanks” You whisper back, blood travelling fast to your cheeks as your fingers touch his for a moment, grabbing your tea. 

“So, what’s wrong?” He chooses his words carefully, his tone softer, his voice quieter. He raises his eyebrow in concern, making you frown for just a second. 

“It’s all wrong.” You whisper, in anxious shame, nervously, avoiding his eyes. 

“What do you mean it's all wrong?” He echoes your voice, not really following your train of thought. 

“It’s all wrong Eddie.” Your voice is stronger now, more impatient. But still barely above a whisper, it felt stupid to speak at a normal volume when he’s so close to you. “ The proportions are awful, the reference is shit, and I can’t start painting until I finish the stupid sketch but I can’t manage to finish it.” You’re trying your hardest to not stumble over your own words, it’s complicated, frustration getting the best of you, making your voice shake as you can feel the small tear threatening to form on the verge of your eyes. 

“Hey…” He whispers once more, the hand he had on your lower back petting you once again, trying to get you to calm down for a second. “Step by step, yeah?” He watches you nod at his question, and he waits for you to take a deep breath. “What can you do to fix it?” 

“I need to restart it all.” You answer in defeat, you were tired, and with a clear idea in mind that didn’t seem to transform as well as you wanted to. 

“Okay, so restart it, what can I do to help?” 

“Nothing really.” You add, looking back at him for once. You're captivated by him for a moment. The way his curls frame his face makes you really want to put the little flyaway away from his complexion, touch his pale face for a second, but instead, you hold the cup harder, your knuckles turning white. 

“What’s wrong with the reference?” He asks, trying to refocus you, snatching the photograph off the floor. A blurry image that’s barely recognizable, a kiss between two people that you don’t know. 

“It’s shit.” You admit, hiding a chuckle. “ I found it on the floor of The Hideout and thought that a kiss scene would be the perfect ending for my project, but… I’m not… I don’t know” You admit, defeated, tired, and anxious about you having to start the whole project again. 

“Why a kiss?” He asks, innocence in his tone. He tries to hide his curiosity with that Eddie grin, that stupid grin that makes you smile in return even if you're not aware of it. 

“I…” You look at him for a moment. Stopping at his lips for a second, and this time it doesn’t escape you that he does the same. “It’s about melancholy. The whole thing. Situations that have happened and you miss, and the ones that haven’t but you wish they did… Love… I wish it happened to me but… Yeah” You stop talking, as you feel his eyes not leave yours, it’s stupid, but talking about this in this space, for some reason is making your heart beat faster, and wherever your body touches his, it tingles, electricity flying between both of you. 

“You haven’t been in love?” The question took you out, it didn’t make sense for Eddie to ask this. It doesn’t fit the way he has always acted around you, but in a weird way, when you look back at him, and see the way his eyes look softer, kinder. 

You always saw Eddie repel the idea of love, avoiding it at all costs, so it was weird seeing him like that, like he was hopeful for an answer, as he wanted to tell you how he started feeling, he also knew he would never dare to tell you such a thing. Much too proud, much too careful. 

“I have. But, they don’t love me back.” You mutter, not ready to voice it fully. Not sure if this is the best time to say, yes, Eddie, I have been in love, I’ve been in love with you for ages. 

Because, even now, you’re slowly realising that what you’ve been feeling for him is love. 

“I understand.” He mutters, his sight leaving you for the first time, looking down at the photo, while he yells to himself, his brain is telling him to not do anything stupid, while his whole heart and body are begging for him to tell you that he could learn how to love you if you let him. 

For fucks sake, he tells himself, he cares so much about you, he wants you to be happy and loved and cared for so much it pains him a bit not knowing what to do to help. He slowly lifts his head up.

Coincidence, destiny or just dumb luck, he makes eye contact with his old, beaten up Polaroid and a stupid idea, oh so stupid crosses his mind, and he narrows his eyes. 

You notice. 

And before you can stop yourself you're asking him a soft and questionable “What?” that leaves him looking back at you. 

“We could take a picture.” He states, blankly looking back at the camera. A nervous smile that makes his eyes shine. 

“What picture?” You’re left even more confused, following his glance. 

“A kissing picture.” He says. Your body frozen, heart skipping a beat. Eddie’s does the same, amazed at himself for actually having said such a stupid thing. “Just so you have an actual reference… I just… Wanna help.” He’s now avoiding your sight, embarrassed about his idea, he begins to get flustered, and the only thing he can get himself to do now is stare at the floor. 

You need a second. 

A moment. 

Silence fills the room, as the only thing you can feel is the beating of your own heart, loud in your eardrums, a rhythmic rhythm that begs kissme kissme kissme. 

So, once again, it wasn’t even a question. 

“Who’s taking it?” You answer, sweet quiet voice. Your eyes also set on the floor, as you can feel your cheeks burning. Anticipation forming in the air. 

“I’ll do it.” He answers, his smile bigger than ever. As he stands up, you leave the cup on the floor, wiping your nervous hands on your jeans. One swipe, two, three. 

You’re left looking at him, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think that he was just as extremely excited and nervous as you are. And then it comes, the realisation of what was about to happen, he’s going to kiss you, and you’re going to kiss him. You’re about to do what you’ve been wanting to do for ages, all for some stupid excuse that you can’t be worried about. 

As he moves, gracefully, it all stops mattering for a brief moment. 

It doesn’t matter if the painting is good enough. 

It doesn’t matter if the admission committee thinks your work is good enough. 

It doesn’t matter if this complicates your friendship or not. 

He sits down beside you, a trembling hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his lips slightly parted, his eyes switching between your eyes and your lips. The electricity is tangible now, you almost feel like you could fill up jars with it, a weird anticipation, an excitement. A promise almost. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, his thumb gracing your lower lip, his breath so close to your lips you could actually drink it if you wanted to. He smells of vanilla and sandalwood.

“Yeah.”

Then it happens. 

Eddie kisses you, softly. 

A soft, sweet kiss is left on top of your lips, as you close your eyes and enjoy it, one of your hands travels slowly to the back of his neck, tentatively, you start playing with his hair. You see a flash, a bright light that makes you giggle, only brighter when you feel the way he’s also smiling. 

Eddie can’t stop kissing you. 

He’s delighted that he’s finally doing this. He doesn’t care that he can’t fully give in, somehow worried that the photo won’t turn out good, he takes a couple more. And then he finally gives in. One last touch, a small bite to your lower lip, and he gently pulls away. His forehead against yours. Catching his breath, you can feel the way your lips are left tingling now. How your heartbeat seems happier in a weird way, like something got fixed for a moment.

When Eddie opens his eyes, he can see that yours are still closed. And that your lips look pinker than before, that your cheeks are flushed and you’re breathing faster than usual. He smiles quietly to himself, and looks down, between your bodies, lays the camera and the polaroids spread around, proof that he didn’t imagine it all. Proof that he did just do it. 

He carefully bumps his forehead into yours, playfully almost. 

You open your eyes, looking down. 

He hands you one of the photographs, you can’t help but smile. 

“I don’t think I ever had such a beautiful photo” You whisper, as you’re taken back for an instance. You’re blooming with joy, an uncontrollable smile decorates your face. The shyness gone for this brief moment. 

“Me either.” Eddie adds as he holds another one. 

You’re both idiots. 

Happy idiots, unaware of each other's feelings, not knowing that it was more than a favour. 

“Thank you, Moon.” You tell him, as he blushes even harder. 

And he’s not sure if it was the eye contact, the way you look right now or the fact that you had just given him what might be his new favourite nickname. 

“Now, get back to work.” He teases, while he decides to lay down, resting on his forearms so he can still look at you. 

“Don’t distract me.” You add back, a flirty banter evident in the air now. 

“I won’t kiss you until you ask for it.” And in that moment it's clear, he’s being sincere. 

You can’t help but laugh, softly. And he can’t help himself, echoing your laugh. 

He doesn’t need to say anything, and neither do you. You just know that now he knows something more about you, you know that now that he’s tasted your lips he will be left craving for more, just as much as your craving for a new encounter. 

Eddie is left mesmerized, proud of you, seeing how now you’re determined to finish this painting, with a soft smile and quick brushstrokes. So, you spend the next afternoon painting, and stealing soft glances at him, as he just sits there, amazed by you, as he continues talking with you as if nothing has changed, as if his heart isn’t now all yours, even if you know as well as he does, that it is. 

[armoricaroyalty]

Rosalind of Armorica: The princess will see you now

Crown Princess Rosalind wants to become the most accessible member of the Armorican royal family. Is she ready for the pressure?

It’s hard to escape Crown Princess Rosalind. The 27-year-old heir to the Armorican throne is seemingly everywhere: cutting ribbons at hospital wards in Nordienne, meeting with conservationists and gamekeepers in the highlands north of Bortaine, smiling on the cover of glossy supermarket tabloids.

The omnipresence is part of a deliberate strategy, according to the Crown Princess. “We can’t hold ourselves apart from the people we serve,” says Rosalind. “We need to be hypervisible. We have to be real to our people, not just faces on stamps.”

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author's note: I never do recreations, but I did recreate this 2021 Tatler cover because it was just really striking. Thank you to @warwickroyals for sharing the Tatler graphic with me!

article continues below the cut!

Of course, hypervisibility is nothing new to the mega-popular heir to the Armorican throne. Already a superstar within her home country, Rosalind rose to international prominence after accompanying her father on a state visit to Uspana in November 2017. At just 27 years old, she is already considered one of the most accomplished living royals. In 2012, she graduated from the elite Allard University with dual degrees in economics and music performance. Two years later, she launched herself into full-time royal work, quickly racking up 34 patronages, ranging from the national ballet to the Ministry for Sustainable Energy. Last year, she completed over 400 engagements on behalf of her father. In terms of extracurricular activities, Rosalind is an accomplished tennis player, speaks six languages fluently, composed the score for ANN’s upcoming documentary on sustainable energy Green Horizons, and owns an international real estate portfolio valued in the hundreds of millions.

Sitting across from me at a private supper club in the tony Pearl District, she brings a relentless, focused energy to our conversation. Everything about her conveys poise and intensity, from her impeccable posture to her ad-exec smile to her sensible suede pumps. Her favorite rose-shaped brooch (purchased by her great-grandfather in 1962 and worn by both her grandmother and great-grandmother) adorns the lapel of her cropped jacket, which the diminutive Crown Princess has paired with wide-legged trousers. Her smile doesn’t waver as the conversation turns to her relationship with her father.

"We have very different styles. [My father has] never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

“His Majesty is very supportive,” Rosalind says. “We work together very well, and in the last few years, he’s really come to rely on me.” It’s a bold claim for a member of the normally self-effacing and media-shy Armorican royal family, but it’s backed up by the numbers: including his weekly visits with the prime minister, the reclusive King of the Armoricans carried out just 131 engagements last year, approximately one third the number completed by the overachieving Crown Princess. “We have very different styles,” she laughs. “He’s never given an interview, and well, look at me now!”

"I suppose [my parents] meant well, but [my upbringing has] been quite a disadvantage."

Crown Princess Rosalind is the oldest child and only daughter of Andre, King of the Armoricans and former hockey pro Elise Sutton. According to Rosalind, the King and Queen—then the Duke and Duchess of Arbor—tried to give their children an “informal upbringing,” away from the pressures of royal life. “I suppose they meant well, but it’s really been quite a disadvantage,” she confesses. “When I meet my peers internationally, it’s very clear that they were more directly brought up to rule. I used to feel so behind. I’ve had to work hard to catch up.”

“Was it difficult, growing up as a member of the Royal Family?” I ask.

“No,” says Rosalind, hesitating. “But I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”

“I think that it was difficult to be royal in my family.”