#styles and lengths

[eudoraturner]

Discover the Beauty of SenseLashes: The Perfect Premade Fan

Welcome to my first post about the enchanting world of eyelash extensions! Today, I'm excited to introduce you to SenseLashes, a brand that has truly revolutionized the eyelash extension industry. Their premade fans are a game-changer for both lash artists and clients alike.

SenseLashes offers an array of premade fans that are designed to enhance the natural beauty of your eyes while providing a stunning, voluminous look. The quality of their products ensures that each fan is lightweight and comfortable, making the application process seamless and enjoyable.

Whether you're a seasoned lash artist or just starting your journey, SenseLashes' premade fans are perfect for creating beautiful, fluffy lashes that last. Plus, with a variety of styles and lengths available, you're sure to find the ideal match for every client.

I can't wait to share more about my experiences with SenseLashes and the incredible transformations that premade fans can offer. Stay tuned for tips, tricks, and inspiration in the world of eyelash extensions!

[superdaisypowerhour]

There are two schools of thought on the locked tomb series; there are the people who took tazmuir at her word when she said gideon had a longsword and drew it as such; then there are the people who know what a longsword is and know that the thing gideon swings is at the bare minimum a fucking claymore.

[mennany]

I did a thing

(Please tell me the fonts are readable. I spent probably 24~ hours on them just so I could use them in my art.)

Original by VioletMadness7 on Twitter/X!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At your side [End of Season 2]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nicoyarobin]

[woolying]

tetro pink doodle dump: varied ramen trio edition 🍜🩷 i need to get all of these off my hands lol

picture captions, if you care:

sanrio dogs i drew in my sketchbook once during class ! they are such a doodleable bunch

IIIIIII👏SUP👏POSE👏HEY🆙

this was based on one of tsunos gacha cards, i just wanted to sketch it but then i got carried away..... rip to the matching cheshire sasaki that didnt get drawn (I PROMISE IM STILL WORKING ON THE GACHA CARDS THAT WON THE POLL I DID THAT ONE TIME....IM JUST THE STRUGGLER...)

von tweeted this one and i thought it was funny

i drew this one literally today lol also inspired by a von tweet!! a little bit of miki manami hcs kinda (ive been meaning to do art studies with them bc i have clear views of how the trio look in my head but im not very good at body variation...parkourist tsuno you are so important to me ill draw you well one day) also just know all of the isono hcs are me projecting thank u

isono miki digital angel real (featuring wader)

OOOOO YOU WANNA TALK TO ME ABOUT TETRO SU FUSIONS SOOOOOO BAD ametrine is my fave out of my finished ones so she gets posted yay

i saw the project sekai movie when it came out so i made sure masa miki did too (just realized i forgot wadas eyebrows um...im not going back to fix it sorry idk what canvas this doodle is on)

more sanrios except i assigned one to the whole cast and planned on drawing them all... then gave up basically before i even started lol (if anyone sees this please draw ojima with harenochi nyua and color it all cutelike ty)

/ 11. back to my roots: drawing wada over and over again (i was going through severe genuine withdrawals when i drew these i love drawing wadas)

[sushirrrry]

ROOM 115.

a harry styles x original character story.

summary: harry styles, a fifth grade school teacher, meets noelle adler, a first grade school teacher, who just happens to be across the hall in room 115. harry has never been one to believe in 'love at first sight', but his inclination begins to question when he realizes that he can't stop staring at noelle in faculty meetings and begins to introduce her to his lifestyle outside of the classroom.

in an attempt to win her heart, will harry begin to question everything he's ever known about love? or will her own demons battle his in an attempt to keep them apart?

author's note: this is a story I begun a few years ago; it has about 6 chapters so far. I took it down from wattpad, & thought I'd give it a go with you all - figured you all would appreciate elementary school teacher LHH for a little bit. we'll see how it goes & if you all like updated chapter stories! I haven't gotten much reception from them in the past on here (with the exception from majesty, but even that doesn't have too much traction) - so we'll see how this goes, and I'll look to see if we can make these updates a regular thing... hope you enjoy <3

PROLOGUE

This is a story between a man with no inhibitions, and a woman who seeks for what she can't find. It's a true story, which makes it all that much more interesting... or so it goes.

We meet them separately, for their meeting hasn't occurred yet– not at this part of the story, however. But they're destined to meet, destined to find what each other have been looking for all along.

Neither a clue, nor a cause for their search, but a plan that the universe has set up entirely. That's the funny thing about the universe; the skeptics don't believe that the stars have anything to do with our future, but they'd be wrong.

Oh, how wrong they'd be.

See, in this story, the man and the woman struggle to make sense of their stories, their lives. They haven't imagined looking far beyond themselves to think that what they may need wasn't what they believed all along.

This is a romance story, sure But this story is more than that. 

It's about finding the quirks, loving the journey, and celebrating the little things. It would be boring to say that this story came together in every aspect; Harry met Noelle, Noelle met Harry and the rest was history.

But let's start our story at the beginning. Some may call it love at first sight, but that's impossible for someone who believes that love doesn't exist to begin with. Well, real love, that is.

The man drops his keys when he steps out of his car, subtle cursing follows through his lips as he bends down to pick them up from the hot pavement. It's warm, it's nearing the end of summertime up in the cozy, seaside village, but there were still a few weeks of steaming, humid days ahead of them.

He wipes his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt, knowing that the temperatures are reaching higher levels today, so he is glad that he's inside most of the day in the stark cool air conditioning. His hair is pulled back into a bun, off of his neck. He had grown his hair long over the summer, a bit longer than prior years.

There's a box that sits in the back of his car, a small box of items that he had taken from the classroom last year. He knew that he would be in the same one this year, Room 113, so packing up meant including only his personal items.

The walk to the room isn't far from the front door; it's down the west wing and to the left. The hallways will soon be filled with laughter and screaming, a bit of chaos and roars of kids lining the halls as he navigates them as they run into his legs and he has to remind them to slow down.

It's his third year here at Middletown Elementary, and he wonders if he'll ever leave. It starts to feel a bit too comfortable, which the man doesn't enjoy too much. Being comfortable sets you up for the opportunity of being hurt; leaving now would mean that he could get out unscathed. Especially if something were to happen-- he wouldn't be able to say what that something was, mind you.

But he was always prepared to leave, to get out while he still could.

Flipping on the lights in Room 113, he notices that the name on the door exhibits his own: Mr. Styles.

He sets down the box on the desk; it's barren, only holding the computer monitor and keyboard provided.

The desks and chairs need to be rearranged to his liking, the posters need to be hung up, the string lights he uses for reading times need to be set up, the carpets need to be laid down for optimal class free-time.

There's a lot to do, and he's starting to feel overwhelmed by the list, even when he recognized that everything still felt in place from last year. He grabs a few folders from the box, filled with papers that he had from years prior that he planned to recycle and use again.

The cabinet is unlocked, filing systems that sit behind his desk as he starts to add a few files into the cabinet drawers. He misses the sound of the flip-flopped sandals that approach his classroom door.

"Excuse me?"

The man is interrupted from organizing the filing cabinet that he had started to put back together, adding in the coloring pages and vocabulary quizzes that he had gathered.

Something about the interruption is totally forgotten as he looks at the woman that lingers in the doorway to his classroom.

Soft and sweet, she's quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on, and that would be the most wild idea he's ever had. It's a quick spark, which renders him speechless.

The shock is quick when he recognizes that his response is late; he'd been too busy wondering if his reality was real afterall.

"Oh, sorry– hi, yeah," The man stumbles out, standing from his crouched position at the cabinet by his desk. "What, uh, what's up?"

The woman looks a bit lost, out of place. The man can't seem to read her as he notices that a sheepish smile lays on her lips. He hadn't recognized her.

"I was in a hurry this morning, and I forgot to bring a stapler. You wouldn't happen to have an extra one I can borrow, would you?"

There's a bit of worry in her voice, as if she's nervous– possibly a bit frantic. It was only the beginning of the day, and the man believed that he would be working solo today as it was the first day to get acquainted in the classroom.

The man opens his mouth to speak, eyes glued on the way that the mid-length denim shorts sat on her porcelain skin in the sunny, late morning sunshine.

There's a silence for a moment, the man's eyes looking towards the only stapler that he brought that day.

"Here," He hands it to her, knowing that getting close to her feels like his lungs are losing air quicker. "You can have this one."

A soft smile is exchanged between them; and it's because of the freckles that litter her cheeks, the contrast of the browns and greens that elicit her eyes. The copper tone of her hair and softness of her facial features.

The woman's hair is pulled up in a ponytail, loose strands hang in her face to frame the oval shape.

She places her hands on her hips, the high neck tank top is complimenting her skin in a mauve color– the freckles that literally her skin with no rhyme or reason seem fascinating to the man.

"Sorry– you looked busy. I just– I'm Noelle, by the way. I'm new this year. It's actually– it's my first year teaching. Like, ever." She chuckles a bit at her words, almost like she's worried that the man would judge her for them, "I guess I'm a bit all over the place."

The man nods his head without much more questioning, giving her a promising smile, "What grade?"

"First. I'm, uh, right across the hall," She points with her thumb behind her, directing towards the room, "Room 115."

It was certainly a surprise to hear that she had taken over the room for Mrs. Hallens, but he figured that she retired and they replaced her with... Noelle. The man shifted his weight on his feet as he stood across from her.

"Ah, we're neighbors, then." He smirks at her for a moment before a wash of confusion crosses over his face, "Oh, sorry, my name. I'm Harry. I teach fifth."

The woman smiles, teeth bright and kind, "Glad to meet you, Harry."

She holds the stapler in her hands, lifting to gesture back to that conversation.

"Thanks again for this," She nods a few times, biting on the strawberry plumpness of her lips he definitely hadn't been staring at. The man shrugs his shoulders, nonchalant enough to show that there hadn't been an issue with it.

"Let me know if you, like, need help with anything else," he offers, his hands rest on his hips as he tries to act a bit casual, "It can be a bit stressful, but first graders are more stressed out than you are, trust me. Like when they say snakes are more afraid you than you are of them? Same goes for kids." He tells her, a bit of a smirk on his face and he means it with his full heart.

He figured she sensed that; a wave of calmness created a bubble over her.

The woman gives him a smile again, nodding her head at his words as she studies the stapler like it's the most important artifact on the planet.

"Yeah– yeah, you're right," she smiles back at him, her eyes laying on him and wonders why her heart races a bit faster, "Thanks, again."

Without another word, she's heading back towards the door to her own room. The man can see through the door clearly, watching as she unfolds the stapler to attach a few posters to the wall.

He senses a strange feeling, but he blames it on the heat. The air conditioning hadn't been properly turned on yet in the building, and the black jeans he chose this morning were already causing a bit of an issue when it came to sweating.

We all knew it wasn't summer heat he was feeling– no, it was more than that.

It was a feeling he'd never had before, a feeling he wouldn't be able to pinpoint on a map if given the opportunity. It felt bigger than life itself, stronger than most currents. Most writers couldn't identify it, poets had trouble putting it into words.

The man shook his head, draining the idea from it.

It was impossible, he thought. How could one look be all it took?

In that moment, he grappled with the realization that love, perhaps, wasn't an elaborate fiction but a profound and unexpected reality that had chosen him as its reluctant believer.

On the opposite end, the woman had walked back across the hall to where her own classroom laid. The papers and the posters littering the room in a chaotic sense; it matched the imagery in her brain. 

But her mouth was dry and her heart was beating in a way that she knew would be shocking to her doctors. She didn't want to turn back to look because she was afraid of what she'd find. 

Instead, her eyes shut as she reached her desk chair again. Her radiant spirit, the nervous energy that hesitated further as she set the stapler down on the desk.

The stars did that, you know? They forced together atoms with a centripetal force great enough to spark the greatest stories ever told.

The smile that landed on both Noelle and Harry; both across the hall from one another, and both unaware of each other.

The smile is where this story begins, but it is certainly not how it ends. 

[nailsandinspo]

[cloudabserk]

my boss regularly orders me to use AI to write things (basically meaningless ad drivel) and everytime i just write it myself in 5 minutes… no complaints so far

[thimblings]

the origin story of Marisol de Riva's shitty bangs

(Bas is 'Sebastian de Riva', a hornless [maybe de-horned? not sure yet] qunari OC that's part of my backstory for my Rook lmao)

[starflungwaddledee]

from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7

message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "

[m1tchgp]

some fem marc drawings, very hair centric

[dallasgallant]

Hair is such an important part of the story but I really don’t think it gets talked about or utilized as much as it should be. Like the fact they all carry around combs, greaser hair is high maintenance! Constantly fixing it is a bit of a stereotype but it’s also true, oil and gel are much more of a flexible product, it hardens a little but it’s still malleable! Especially when it’s a more complicated hairstyle.

[secriden]

Style taking Fadel’s hand and placing it (back) around his neck!??? Yeah, sorry not sorry, but I’m going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future.

[sevastiel]

Behold ye, my Protoframe oc, Darius.

(Ft @doggojin and @thatfluffyboi's Chanho n Sol, they make an delightful trio tbh)

Some extra deets (lots of notes on him be warned) post cut! :)

Separated into physical and psychological/lore.

Physical notes :

Spanish-Mediterranean, mid-to-late twenties, looms at a ridiculous 6'6" (200 cm I believe? around there.) but is normally hovering an inch or two off the ground. Thankfully, he's gotten into the habit of tucking his legs in a bit so he doesn't hit every single doorframe that he passes through. He lost his left leg from the knee down due to an unfortunate incident with a landmine, and had a prosthetic for several years before the techrot.

Darius's body is made up of connected pieces held together by sentient energy, and all of his organs have either been replaced by the techrot-sentient hybrid growths, or are no longer necessary and have been removed. He currently lacks the entirety of a regular digestive tract as we would know it, and subsists mostly on energy. However, should he require physical mass for either rebuilding/modifying himself, or creating other sentients, he can 'eat' by putting materials in his mouth, pulling his bodily pieces together, and allowing the techrot systems to dissolve things into more workable particles, or pushing things between separated segments of his body (usually his chest) and letting the sentient bits pick things apart and feed them to the rot for storage. (This takes longer and is less effective at energy conservation) Extra notes on this later when we discuss his abilities.

The connective energy between segments is manifested in string-like bundles of force, which are manipulatable and can be 'touched', though unless he's focusing on keeping his energy properly contained you will likely get a light zap, and with prolonged touch you'll likely be able to feel them hum with power. They normally have about the same tactile strength as woven spiderwebbing of the same thickness, stretching easily but ultimately severable with either enough effort or something sharp. Should you sever all the connections, the piece will just fall off. Removed pieces aren't controllable by him any longer, but are re-attachable, and although he's got a body plan that his form defaults to, every single bit of him is entirely modular except for his cranium. Removing his jaw takes some effort, as there are technically still segments of flesh (his lips, basically) holding it on, but it is possible. If he really puts his mind to it, though, he can remove a segment, and maintain the links through mental focus, or by tethering them to something that he/they can feed off of. Through this, he can make replacement limbs for others, or additional armor, given they've got the bio-energy to keep the segments active.

Bodily segments are almost entirely made of toughened armor plating, with the majority of flexibility being located on the twin pieces that make up his chest/torso, as this is also where the majority of the techrot based organs lie. Although he does need to breathe, each segment intakes oxygen individually, through the softer and more porous dark insides. He has full sensation in any piece of him that he's linked to, as the energy connections serve as a nervous system, and can 'digest' pieces if he's in desperate need of energy/materials in a pinch.

Being modular, he can, in the same way he summons other sentients, simply craft himself differing body parts whenever he so pleases. The larger the piece, the more effort/thought it takes, since it requires a greater complexity of systems for nutrient, oxygen, and waste management. Due to his own lack of knowledge, he doesn't manifest any replacements larger than his own legs, and would rather just spit out a patch and slap it onto injured areas and let the techrot do its thing. This is why his 'armor' looks less dramatic compared to actual caliban, because why the hell would he want that much weight throwing him off balance? He'll accept the techrot/sentient's desires and keep his form adjacent to it, though.

Ability wise, he's functionally pretty similar to a vampire. While he technically could subsist entirely off of regular food, it would require a lot of time and careful dieting to gather the proper resources his body needs, and his energy levels would be rather constantly low. So, instead, he just eats as much techrot as he can and prays for the best, or drinks directly from power generators when he can get away with it, or anything similar. Pure energy as a baseline keeps all his sentient systems running, and metals/proteins allow his techrot systems to keep going. Thankfully for him, he's got two boyfriends who are both quite energetic, and really don't mind his needs as much as they should.

Manifesting sentient fighters usually happens in the same way as he manifests new pieces of himself, but with the added caveat that they don't need functional internal systems for long term usage, and he can charge them up with his own power to keep them running as long as he needs. This is obviously extremely resource intensive, but if it keeps those he cares about safe, (and since it appeases the eternal need to consume and create and consume and create and consume and create) he'll do whatever he must.

Due to all of the above, he prefers particularly tight or comfortable clothing,, as it helps mitigate the changes that happen depending on his energy levels. The less he's got, the looser his pieces, and things will just fall off if he's dead tired (lol). So... Avoiding that is nice. Additionally, although he needs his chest cavity within reach for making sentients at a quick notice, he does like looking in the mirror and not seeing his own body immediately as so blatantly inhuman and monstrous. The straps he uses for his military harness are half to hold things and half to straight up just keep himself together. The mask is for keeping his eyes clear of gore while he's in the middle of shit, because that was a severe issue beforehand. Take a bite, get blinded bc there was more fluid than you expected, have to panic and try and fix that mid combat, leaving you even worse off than you were previously? No thanks.

--

Psycological notes and lore:

Before Entrati got his hands on him, he was a well respected mediator that worked on communications for the ICR, and worked directly with the Hollvanian government and its military to allow for the ICR to remain in the city.

Coming from a well off and well expecting background, from a young age he was put through his paces and taught to be the finest edition of a modern renaissance man, giving him very little time to do anything but his studies, and very little affection from anything but perfection. Even then, kinda mid. As such, he is a well mannered and well spoken fellow with a deeply repressed childish nature that only ever comes out at the worst possible times amidst the best possible company.

Having been tailor-made for communications work, he was also ensured a healthy dose in very many other skills that might come up from time to time while traveling. (Including, but not limited to, sewing (which he hates), cooking (which he has extremely low patience for), midwifery (which thank god hasn't come up yet), medical triage (unfortunately has), general electrical and mechanical knowledge (much better for him now than it was before), a few languages, and so forth. Post becoming a protoframe, much of his knowledge has degraded due to the changes required for his brain to be able to control his bio-energy, leaving him constantly irritated when faced with a challenge that he knows DAMN well how to deal with, but cant remember specifics on.

He deals with irritation and anger very expressly, not one for subtlety or sarcasm when it comes to his displeasure. This man will Not be the one making snide jabs across the table, he would instead pull you aside privately and explain quite logically the behaviors he's disliking and see if either an agreement can be reached or if another specialist should be put forth. A trait learned from his parents, no doubt, but also one that helps considerably when it comes to governmental relations and respect.

All of his emotions are generally delt with highly logically, which, when it comes to more positive or soft feelings, gets very awkward and confusing for him very fast. One might find have found him before sitting on a bench, staring up at the falling leaves. If you asked him what he was thinking about, he'd respond that he's trying to comprehend why exactly he should be feeling happy about witnessing something so mundane. He wouldn't leave, of course, he'd still watch, but there will always be a part of him that shies away from emotions as a whole. All the sweeter, imo, when he really starts feeling and letting himself feel. Love is a strange thing, isn't it?

During his time in Hollvania, he got infected through volunteer work, doing his best to actually be helpful past the eternal red-tape. He hid it for as long as he could, taking extra care to frequently wash, scrub down, and then properly bandage and ointment up the affected bits of his arms so he wouldn't risk spreading anything, but it didn't do much for him at all. He was needed to maintain good relations, often running intermediary briefing dialogues to keep both sides as up to date as possible on the ICR's doings, so duty really did pull him in half. (haha) As the rot progressed and claimed more of his body, leaving him weaker and more frequently ill, it was less and less ethically feasible for him to keep working, despite it more or less being the only thing he really knew how to do, and there being very few people who could replace him. If he wasn't doing something, if he wasn't being productive, solving problems, keeping people happy, then what was he?

And then he heard of a man with a miracle cure, our good old Doktor Friday, and the fact that it worked. Naturally, Darius paid him a visit, already having used his infected status as an excuse to let him do a bit more hands on assistance wherever he could. And Entrati indeed did give him a cure, listening and nodding along to all the reasons Darius gave as to why he would likely be a good test subject, especially if it meant that if it worked, Darius would be in an excellent position to grant Albrecht significant funding for expanding his cures to the greater populous, who needed them desperately.

Well, it sure didn't fucking do much, did it, leaving him visually better, but when word got out that the others who'd taken the cure had become super-spreaders, you bet your ass he started panicking immediately. He'd been in rooms for extended periods of time with everyone in command, just his presence might have been enough to entirely destabilize the local government, or absolutely gut the ICR. So, once more, he claimed a stomach illness to take some time off. This was a very big problem, so back he went, livid as all hell, to hunt down Entrati.

He got the whole spiel about unforeseen mutations within the techrot responding strangely, and although he didn't believe it, he already had nothing left to lose. He wasn't a soldier, sure, he had training in fencing, could handle a gun, but he couldn't help like the others could, and he could not go back to the one thing he'd been set up all his life to be. And Entrati had a bit of a twinkle in his eye when he said that there might be something that he could do, but it would take time, and multiple tests, to be able to make it all work. There was another strain Dr E was experimenting with that, as he was shown samples and heard the explanations, seemed to be able to nullify the techrot almost entirely. (It was actually just subsuming it, but visually, the two outcomes were nearly identical.)

So he said yes. Like a fucking idiot.

The initial dose laced him with the helminth strain, preparing his body, granting him strength, even though it hurt so very much, the pain leaving him borderline insensate, unable to do anything but lay there and cry as he felt his very flesh twisting and saw Entrati approach with the second dose after a few hours.

Number two was a low dose of the sentient strain, modified, following Caliban's biological approach, and the reaction between the two was violent, techrot subsumed with a rapid hunger and made to serve a new master. Darius's body quite literally began tearing at the seams, and Entrati took his time with the process, utilizing several more small injections, so he wouldn't die of pure blood loss.

When all was said and done, his twisted body was held together by a scant few threads of power, and he was very much unconscious, having fallen into a coma that would last multiple days, fed with an occasional battery set into the new cavity within his chest.

Wisely, Entrati was not there when he awoke, starving, terrified, and in great pain. All he could focus on was the hunger, that pulsating desire that screamed at him to consume, create, consume, create, consume, create, his human mind utterly overwhelmed by the twin techrot and sentient desires. It took him some time to figure out how to move again, much less walk, and the hunger only got worse by the second.

When the Hex found him, they came across a crying, shattered man, tearing into mounds of freshly killed techrot with his bare hands, stuffing wires and flesh alike into his mouth with an inhuman voracity. He was guarded by bizarre automatons, whos' origin was quickly made apparent by him reaching into that glowing gash that bisected his entire body and pulling out another, his own form splitting and reshaping as he dragged it free.

It took quite some time for him to regain his humanity. Quite some time to mediate the new desires of his reformed body with his own. The urges have not left him, but at least he's got a choice, now.

Prince of both worlds indeed.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

finally … the truest form of old man yaoi…