#and she changed the skin to a design very on brand with her blog

[gayturians]

one time this girl got into my minecraft account and changed my name to the same as her tumblr and insta so i followed her on here and made a post like "my minecraft name changed to (name) wtf??" just to freak her out if she went looking

[pastadoughie]

MY NAME IS SPELLED WITF AN E AND NOT AN A get it RIGHT!!

hai! im rowen (he/him) and i draw thingse soemtimze!! im a queer (trans, intersex, gay) old furry artist :3 u probably know my blog for drawing many many silly kitties and miscilanious creechers, but i do other things!

i do requests (no ocs or fandom shit, ONLY silly) and i take commisions (i am working on a website to organize all the prices and stuff, but for now, just dm me if youre intrested)

i do all my art on mspaint (win10 ver.) unless explicitly stated otherwise, i just use the default pencil tool on 4px (the largest default size setting) witch is a round brush with no antialiasing

i use a drawing tablet, the XP-Pen Deco 1 V2 (Celeste, He/Him), and an ASUS Harman/Kardon i7 14.5 In. laptop (Chelsea, She/Her)

my blog mostly runs on a queue, witch is very long and only goes onse a day, so sometimes extremeley old artwork gets posted. for this reason posts that are recently posted are not nessasarily recently drawn. furthermore, asks sometimes take an extremely long time to post after ive actually answered them, so please dont resubmit things. (+ i have far too many askse to actually be able to answer them all. so asks that are very similar to things ive already answered, are extremely time consuming, or are just not that funny, are unlikely to ever be answered)

rebeast : is for reblogs of other peoples content

rowencatfanart : is for fanart people have made for me (if you make any please tag it as such, as well as mention me in the post)

the beast speaks : is for all my original text posts

retchid opinions : are for my own text posts where i actually say things of value and have an opinion on topics

screaming and scampering : is for when i say bullshit that doesnt matter

consulting thea council : is for polls of mine

rowens serious art : is for serious rendered art of mine

rowens liddol guys : is for sillies of all kinds that ive made

biblically accurate rowen : is for art of non-kitty me, for blacklisting purposes (i like to not be reminded i am a person when im scrolling thru my own blog) mspaint animations : for when i animate things on mspaint (onion skin is for cowards i let my heart guide me) rowens animatics : are for when i make, animatics, its really self explainatory. rowens advertising : is for when i advertise my products or twitch or commisions or whatever. for blacklisting purposes the mewsifixtion : is for when i give out easter eggs 2 ppl who send me asks. asks for this are currently CLOSED rowensumptions : are for when ppl send me headcannons they have abt me thru asks S teir wimpering : for the text postre ive made that r actualey funny rows gross old ort : for when i reblog old art of mine nyanportant : for reblawging / posting any asks or fundraisorsz, i try 2 vett things b4hand as well as not post 2 many @ the same time i tag all asks with the username of the person who asked them, so if u want to find a previous ask of yours i answered you can just search your own username i also try to tag asks i answer with the date of when they were sent to me, and the date i actually drew them, because the queue can make this confusing,,, i cant really retroactively see the send date of posts i made before this tagging change, so some we will simpley nevr know,,, dates are written in american date format. so month-day-year i always tag the software i use for each artwork, but its pretty much always MSPaint (Win10), though i occasionally do image editing in Asesprite

the gray and white kitty i draw most frequently is my catsona! he is not an oc and is specifically meant to represent me

i ask that you please do not use drawings of him as personal branding (such as pfps, banners, avatars, ect.)

the samething applies to my fursona, valentine, though his design changes too much to give an accurate ref for, i generally will specify in the tags

u can find me on tumblr (duh) : @pastadoughie : my main @leftoverdough : is my reblog sideblog @scungledfiles : is the web graphics blog i run w/ my friend (@soggiedsocks) (though we havent been as active as of late cuz mentol ealness + i have been fopcusing moar on this blog) youtube : pastadoughie (i havent posted in 6 months ouhm, oops,) twitch : pastadoughie etsy : scungledthings (i also share this with @soggiedsocks, when contacting my shop you will most likely be talking to him and not me.) if you would like to contact me FOR COMMISIONS directly you can also do so discord : pastadough email : pastadough01@gmail.com PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ONLY BUISNESS INQUIRIES!! stupid shit should be sent via ask or tumblr dm. DO NOT FLOOD MY EMAIL!! i WILL block you!! --- Last Updated : 5-1-2024

[belladoesmakeup]

Hi guys!

I am so excited to write this blog post today because Charlotte Tilbury has brought out a brand new skincare product! As well as makeup Charlotte Tilbury is even more known for their skincare products and the last time we had a new product was last years Magic Water Cream. So today we are chatting about the brand new Magic Hydration Revival Cleanser £25 (120ml) or £12 (30ml)

Though there are a lot of products in Charlotte's skincare range, one product she has never released is a cleanser. Personally I always felt like this product was missing from her collection. Back in the begnining of Feb I got a notification asking me to test out a brand new product skincare product I jumped at the chance. Ironically I didn't know what it was until it arrived but I was ecstatic to see a cleanser arrive at my door.

Let's chat details shall we? This cleanser is designed to deeply cleanse, purify and melt makeup away, it will leave your skin hydrated and with a gorgeous glow. Made with hyaluronic acid, peptide and biomimetic complex as well as giving your skin a deep clean it also helps to reduce pores and make skin look clearer. This formula is very unique compared to other cleansers because it goes from cream to foam to milk. When you first apply the cleanser to your face it appears as a gel cream and then as you add water it foam and when you wash it away it changes into a milky consistency.

I honestly adore this product so far because it gives your skin a real deep cleanse without drying your skin out or irritating it. Sometimes the best cleansers can give your skin a deep clean but dry out your complexion whereas this one smooths my skin texture and leaves you glowing with hydration. So if you are a fan of Charlotte Tilbury skincare products I think you're really going to like this product.

As always all products mentioned are linked above. Currently you can only purchase this item through the Charlotte Tilbury App before it launches officially beginning of March!

Lot's of love

Bella x x

[thebusinessmagnate]

Emily Weiss: Celebrating Individuality by Making Beauty All About You at Glossier

“Beauty is Only Skin Deep” – Have you heard of this phrase? It was a line in Sir Thomas Overbury’s 1613 poem – ‘A Wife’. 

“And all the carnall beauty of my wife,

Is but skin-deep, but to two senses known;

Short even of pictures, shorter liv’d then life,

And yet the love survives, that’s built thereon:

For our imagination is too high,

For bodies when they meet, to satisfie.” – A stanza from the poem.

The poem implies that beauty lies skin-deep and in the eyes of the beholder. 

An era where numerous beauty products like skincare, fragrances, and makeup lines, are being manufactured and pushed out into the world one after the other, bringing about an air of complication and doubt among the masses – the absurdity found in the overwhelming need to make blind and unreviewed product promises by brands are shooting the roof. 

With influencers being paid to promote brands on social media platforms to garner an audience, drive sales, and brand-build, the consumers – especially the millennial generation, are being thrown into the world of ‘needing to correct some dot or flaw’ from a very young age. 

Although self-care is a priority, going overboard and blindly applying anything and everything to one’s body, is truly unhealthy. Learning, educating, and researching about a brand, its product line, its aims, product formulations, product reviews, etcetera, can help consumers decide if a brand is good for them or not. Something may work for you but it would do the complete opposite for the next person. Having a brand that can curate each of their products to fit and accommodate all textures, skin tones, issues, and concerns, can be the first step to accepting how the world sees beauty.

In line with “Changing how the World Sees Beauty” – which is the tagline of Glossier Inc., a personal-care line brand that manufactures cosmetic products for all. Founded by Emily Weiss in 2014 and initially as ‘Into The Gloss’, Glossier is now making beauty accessible, accommodative, inclusive, and uncomplicated, for all. Therefore this article will delve into the foundations of beauty, makeup, skincare, freedom of expression, inclusivity, and celebrating individuality in a fun way, making beauty all about you, with Glossier Inc. and its founder – Emily Weiss. 

The Pioneering Visionary at Glossier – Emily Weiss:

The pioneering visionary behind Glossier’s conception into the world of beauty and cosmetic products is Emily Weiss. She is the Founder, Chief Executive Officer, and Executive Chairman at Glossier – the brand that is working towards “Changing how the World Sees Beauty”. 

Emily Weiss started her passion for all things beauty and fashion by establishing a blog page called ‘Into The Gloss’ in 2010. The blog was devoted to interviewing industry leaders and influencers about beauty products, experiences, reviews, exciting and informative content, and hot and trending topics in the cosmetic industry. Realizing that the platform could have much more potential and not be limited to 4-walls-of-a-room but out in the world where the people are, Emily Weiss founded and established Glossier Inc. 

Emily studied and received a Degree in Studio Art from New York University, before starting her career as a Fashion Assistant at Conde Nast. She then was a Styling Assistant for VOGUE at Conde Cast before founding Into The Gloss in 2010, and then Glossier in 2014. Emily’s accolades are – TIMES’s 100 Next, Vanity Fair’s New Establishment, Fortune’s 40 Under 40, and Fast Company’s Most Creative People in Business. 

About Glossier Inc:

Founded and established in 2014, in New York City, USA, by Emily Weiss – Glossier has its beliefs firmly rooted in “thoughtful design and cultivating conversations”. 

Glossier Inc. was launched in 2014, in New York City, USA, as a manufacturing personal-care and cosmetic product line. The brand aims to “make beauty accessible and uncomplicated” for all. With a mission to change how the world views beauty, Glossier Inc. acknowledges and ensures that their loyal following of influencers and consumers alike “celebrates the freedom of expression, individuality and have fun all together”. 

The brand’s beauty and cosmetic line“Makes products that are inspired by real-life”, so that the consumers form a close and emotional bond of trust and loyalty between the brand and the products. Manufacturing its products with simplicity and straightforwardness, Glossier shows the world its raw and authenticity by saying, “We believe beauty is about having fun, celebrating freedom and being present, because no matter where you are in your beauty journey – YOU LOOK GOOD”. Thus Glossier proves that it’s not just like any other brand that manufactures beauty products for makeup, skin, and body care, but it is a brand that promotes diversity, inclusivity, freedom to express, and more so celebrates individuality – celebrating YOU.

Visit More : https://thebusinessmagnate.com/emily-weiss-celebrating-individuality-by-making-beauty-all-about-you-at-glossier/

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

 Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: Find Us

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: Ivar’s family have a very peculiar lunch guest.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight

Ivar arrived home with a little over an hour to spare.

He was happy to say his legs were no longer burning in hot flames of pain and had died down to the usual dull simmering pain that he was used to dealing with.

As he walked to the stairs he took a moment to be childish and flick off the elevator.

He took a shower and for whatever reason his mind started to wonder, thinking about the series of unfortunate events that occurred last night.

The thought of himself being the great Viking king that his mother named him after was still too outlandish for him to think about. The splitting headache and nosebleed did little to encourage him to think about it.

So his mind moved on.

He thought of (Y/N), the way she accepted his legs, she didn’t immediately get that stupid look of pity or false empathy. No her eyes didn’t soften, nothing had changed in her eyes. She still saw him as she had before, and he was very happy for that.

Being in the family he came from he couldn’t find many friends, not any real ones anyway. His brothers could handle having friends who were drawn to the money and fame, but Ivar couldn’t stand people like that. He couldn’t explain it too well, but he could always see it, the hungry way people looked at him.

Like he was a walking ATM and if they could just get close enough to him then the money would never stop flowing.

All of them had the mutual understanding that none of the Ragnarson children ever wanted to be pushed into the public eye. No magazine articles or press interviews, but still they were hard not to recognize if only for the way their mother seemed to flaunt their wealth around.

(Y/N) had never seen the designer clothes his mother dressed him in or heard about out of country trips he had been dragged on.

Her eyes weren’t hungry, and he liked that.

Ivar liked to be around her, he liked the conversation with her and the way she never asked for favors, anything he did for her was his own choice and it always would be.

(Y/N).

His mind wandered to her in the car, when his nose had bled. With no hesitation she gave him the very shirt off her back. That thought made him think about her sitting in his passenger seat, topless and blushing. The way her face became an ungodly red when he had stupidly invaded her personal space.

Then it all went south, his mind decided to be treacherous and focus on that moment before the cop knocked on the window.

Ivar immediately shook his head and wrapped up his shower, if he set the water to ice cold for a few seconds then he’d never admit it.

Deciding to shut up his mind Ivar put in his earbuds and blasted his music while he got dressed, he walked past his real closet full of clothes he had picked up in shops and went to his second one.

The one his mother filled with brands that “people of their status” should be wearing, he picked up a suit without giving it a glance before he started putting it on with practiced ease.

As he was tying back his hair Hvitserk barged in the room, in a suit of his own.

‘Looking spiffy, bet (Y/N) would have loved to see it.’ his brother smiled as he sat on the bed.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar rolled his eyes as he took out his earbuds.

‘What did you wear to see her last night? Birthday suit?’ Hvitserk teased.

‘I said shut up, some people can be friends with girls and not have sex with them.’ Ivar sassed.

‘Of course they can, that just doesn’t seem to be the case for you Ivy.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘So you’re going to tell me that you...Ivar Hogh Ragnarson, got up in the middle of the night to meet a girl and nothing scandalous happened.’

‘Yes, nothing happened.’ Ivar said tiredly.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second, why did you go out in the first place?’ Hvitserk asked.

‘I’m not going to keep talking about this, can we please just get downstairs before Mother comes looking for us.’ Ivar deflected.

Hvitserk rolled his eyes but he did sigh and got up, meaning that for now at least the subject was dropped.

The two of them headed downstairs to the dining area. As expected the table was covered in large expensive dishes, and of course none of it had been prepared by their mother.

The cook had truly outdone herself today, Ivar new his father must have given her quite a bonus for this feast.

At the head of the table was his father and his mother was sat in the seat on his right, both dressed in expensive brands.

Ubbe and Sigurd still hadn’t come down yet, but Ivar and Hvitserk took their seats across from each other.

‘Ivar...I heard the elevator. Are you feeling well?’ Ivar asked.

‘Yes I am fine, I just woke up in the odd hours where my medicine wasn’t as effective as usual. So I went out for a drive while it kicked in.’ he said casually.

‘You went driving?’ his mother asked.

‘Yes, not too far, I was safe I promise.’ he soothed.

His mother bit at her lip and looked away before she took a sip from her wine glass, she always drank when she worried.

She was always worrying.

Thankfully before the silence could become awkward the two missing brothers came down and took their places at the table.

‘Boys, this lunch is with a very important client, one of my first clients when I started out and he brought me a lot of business by nothing but word of mouth. He is usually quiet and very much so a shut in, and he comes from old money.’

‘If he is a shut in why did he suddenly ask to have lunch?’ Ubbe asked.

‘No idea, but I couldn’t decline. Now, I know you all know how to behave in front of clients, but this client is completely blind so be sensitive to that. Do not mention it, do you all understand?’ his father asked.

Everyone agreed and the conversation moved to lighter things like school and stocks and what summer plans were in consideration. It was all idle chit chat to pass the time while they waited for their guest.

At long last their loud dramatic doorbell rang and one of the housekeepers led in a man using a white cane.

The man was very tall, and that was impressive considering the fact that Ivar was the shortest Ragnarson while standing at exactly six foot.

He had to be at least seven feet, his black suit was clearly custom tailored to his body in a way that made it hard to tell if his suit was filled out by fat or pure muscle. His eyes and forehead were completely hidden behind the largest pair of reflective sunglasses Ivar had ever seen.

His skin was as pale porcelain, it was very oddly accompanied by the most visible light blue veins beneath his flesh and the black lipstick that was smeared over his almost fish like lips.

‘Hello Ragnar.’ the man said, his voice large and raspy as he had been smoking since he could walk.

‘Hello old man.’ Ragnar said happily.

‘I’m as old as I’ll ever be and as young as I can be now.’ the man said.

‘There goes that wise man way of speaking you are so famous for.’ the father smiled happily.

‘And there is the smile you are famous for.’

‘You can see me smiling?’ Ragnar teased.

‘My eyes see nothing, but I see all...that is my curse.’ the man said as he took his seat.

The whole table was silent, not even his father, the great conversationalist that he was, could make light of such a cryptic thing.

‘Don’t be so tense, introduce me to your family so we can eat this delightful feast.’

‘Of course, family meet my great client Mr. Divine. This is my wife Aslaug, my boys that I’m always talking about; Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar.’

‘You are missing two...a boy and a girl…a poor sick girl no one here but you ever got to see.’

Ivar was stunned, and judging by the almost loud silence his family members were in the same state.

His father didn’t speak of his only daughter, the girl that died long before he had been born. From what he had been told his half sister Gida had caught a horrible case of influenza and she just didn’t have a strong enough immune system.

No matter how he tried he couldn’t imagine his father talking about Gida with a client, no matter how important.

‘Yes...we should enjoy the feast.’ Ragnar said, not as cheerful as he had been before.

At last the lunch finally began and while it took a minute the conversation did pick up. Despite that Ivar couldn’t shake this sick feeling.

The feeling he had at the restaurant when (Y/N)’s mother was talking about her findings, like his entire body was covered in ants. He was still polite to the guest, but he just couldn’t look at this man for more than a few seconds.

For such a large spread the actual lunch passed rather quickly, and eventually no one could eat another bite.

‘This was a fine lunch, but I do have several appointments lined up so I must be going.

All of a sudden Ivar couldn’t control himself, there was a question he needed to ask before this man left.

‘Mr. Divine? Is that your given name?’

‘Ivar.’ Ragnar warned.

His ears suddenly burned red in embarrassment at his rude outburst.

‘No need to worry Ragnar, with youth comes curiosity and recklessness. Walk me to the door boy.’ Mr. Divine said to him.

Ivar looked at his father and after he received an approving nod he stood and walked around to the other side of the table.

Mr. Divine stood as well and pushed back his chair from the table, he used his cane to get around the table.

Ivar didn’t move to guide him, partially not wanting to startle him but mostly knowing instinctively that this man wouldn’t appreciate him assuming he needed help.

The two walked out of the dining room and made their way to the door.

‘Do you remember me?’

Ivar looked at the man in confusion.

‘Have I met you before? I think I’d remember if I had, you do leave an impression if I must say.’ Ivar replied politely.

‘We have before, just not in this life.’ Mr Divine said as he stopped walking and took off his humongous sunglasses.

Ivar’s heart dropped so quickly into his stomach as if it had suddenly been turned to lead in his chest, his palms were nearly spraying out sweat and he felt like his body was turning into stone.

Mr. Divine didn’t have eyes.

Not empty sockets he could fill with glass prosthetic ones, but there was nothing but skin covering the place where eyes should have been.

“No eyes…” (Y/N)’s voice rang in his mind.

This was him, it had to be; the one who spoke to her directly.

‘I see you don’t recall me personally, but you are aware of me thanks to the Christian child.’ he said as he moved closer to Ivar.

‘You are the one who talks to her...how are you here, those dreams happened centuries ago?’ Ivar asked in complete shock.

‘Not dreams...you know they are more than that don’t you...Boneless one.’

This time Ivar outright flinched at his words.

‘I-I’m not-’

‘You are; run from it and deny it all you like but the fact remains you are and the faster you embrace it the better off everyone you care about will be.’ Mr. Divine said gravely as he put on his glasses once again.

‘I-’ Ivar didn’t know what he had meant to say but it didn’t matter, because the blind man had already walked away.

‘Long long years I have roamed this horrible world and I will continue until you accept the truth. I pray to all the Gods that you do not make the same selfish mistakes again, there are too many people at stake.’ Mr. Divine said before he left, closing the door behind him.

Never before had Ivar felt such an odd feeling, but the one thing that mattered was that he didn’t like the feeling at all.

He didn’t like the man’s eyeless, black lipped face and he liked his words even less than that.

Ivar didn’t know who this man was or how he was here but he knew that if he never saw that blind bastard again he would have no complaints. All he had done was say stupid things that didn’t answer his questions and left more confused than he was before.

Selfish.

Ivar wasn’t selfish at all, he donated a majority of his monthly allowance to multiple charities and whatever he had left he gave away to the homeless or beggars he saw on the streets.

Angrier than he had been in quite some time he gritted his teeth and walked back into the dining room.

The maids were cleaning the table while the others were still there talking about the lunch they had just had.

‘So you are telling people about her now Ragnar? You rarely speak of Gida even to me, he must be a very good friend.’ Aslaug said politely, but everyone knew it was anything but.

Ivar didn’t bother sitting back down and instead made his way back to his room, he heard his brothers coming up behind him on the stairs.

‘I honestly don’t understand why they have to fight all the time, don’t they get tired?’ Hvitserk sighed.

‘Lord knows they aren’t staying together for our sakes so what is the point? Not like Mom wasn't already an heiress before she met him.’ Sigurd asked in a sour tone.

‘Who knows, it doesn’t matter. I'm going out with some friends, I’ll be back in the morning.’ Ubbe said.

‘Can I tag along? I have nothing going on, but I certainly don’t want to stay here.’ Hvitserk asked.

‘Sure, you two wanna join?’ Ubbe offered.

‘Hell no, I have my own plans, taking a girl to a poetry slam and then a night on the town.’ Sigurd said dismissively.

‘No need to ask Ivar, he has plans with his girlfriend.’ Hvitserk said.

‘Oh he finally got official with (Y/N)? Good for him.’ Sigurd hummed casually.

‘I’m not official with her, I’m not unofficial with her because I’m just friends with her.’ Ivar said in his own defense.

‘Well I don’t believe that for a second.’ Sigurd dismissed.

‘Funnily enough I said the same thing.’ Hvitserk added in agreement.

‘That’s because you idiots have two brain cells between the two of you and you’re sharing one of them.’ Ivar teased.

‘Whatever, you in or not?’ Ubbe asked in mild amusement at his younger brothers bickering.

‘No, gonna catch up on some Netflix documentaries, there’s a good one abou-‘

Ivar was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket, he pulled it out and looked at the contact.

My Literal Child

‘Might I suggest you change her contact info, looks creepy considering the change in your relationship.’ Ubbe said.

‘I would like to suggest you invite her over to Netflix and Chill.’ Sigurd grinned.

‘Shut up.’ Ivar said as he went into his room and closed the door.

He accepted the call and kicked off his shoes.

‘What’s up, except for your horrible timing?’ Ivar answered.

‘Hey so I’m super grounded.’ she said.

‘Can I ask why, hello by the way.’

‘Because my mother isn’t blind enough to miss a hideous truck in her driveway.’

Ivar outwardly facepalmed, he had been so pill loopy and pain struck that he hadn’t even thought about hiding his truck a few blocks down.

‘But luckily my mom likes you so much she isn’t mad enough to kill me. I am still on lock down with the exception of school and I won't be allowed any visitors unless it's a classmate for a group assignment for two weeks.’

‘That sucks but is there anything else, because I have some news that will blow your mind.’ Ivar replied.

‘Actually yes, the doctor called my mom on Friday to set up a sleep study for me on Monday night. Problem is my mom can’t make it and that hospital isn’t really walking distance from my house.’

Do you want me to take you, I can wait for you in the waiting room too.’ Ivar offered.

‘Thanks, now what is your news? Is it...you know?’ she asked quietly in a way that suggested she didn’t want anyone hearing what they were talking about.

‘Yeah. Do you remember that guy you told me about from your dreams, the one with no eyes?’

‘Hard to forget a face like that.’

‘I know tell me about it, I just saw him.’ Ivar said.

‘What do you mean you saw him? Like you dreamed about him? Did he say anything to you?’ (Y/N) asked eagerly.

‘No not in a dream, I mean I saw him. He was just sitting down with me and my family having lunch. He’s one of my father’s first clients, he looked no older than fifty tops.’ Ivar ranted.

‘That’s not possible, we already know that all this past life stuff happened in the Viking Age, that is centuries ago, there is no way he could still be alive. Maybe he’s like us and just looks like his ancestor.’ she suggested

‘No. I don’t think so. He pulled me aside and he asked me if I remembered him, he called me…’ Ivar didn’t even want to say it.

‘He called you what Ivar?’ she urged.

‘Boneless, (Y/N) he called me Boneless one. He said he’s lived many years and he will continue to live in this horrible world until I embrace who I am. He said the sooner I do the better everyone will be, he said too many people are at stake. The bastard called me selfish and he doesn’t even know me!’ Ivar vented, growing angrier with every word.

‘Ivar! Ivar calm down! Calm down!’ (Y/N) cried from the other line.

‘How! Some old fool just showed up speaking like a cartoon fortune teller and called me selfish!’ he seethed.

‘If you aren’t then why be upset!’

All at once Ivar’s anger left him, and it left his body feeling deflated like a balloon.

He still took a few deep breaths just to assure himself that he was actually calm.

‘Are you good now?’

‘Yeah, yeah I’m good; I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you.’ he apologized.

‘I know, you only yell when we talk about who you might have been before; it’s like your twisted version of a defense mechanism. Not that I can blame you, I’m currently looking into this guy and yeah I get being afraid to be him, I’m scared reading it.’

‘I’ve read everything about him, I know almost every theory and legend that even mentions his name.’ Ivar replied as he laid in his bed and looked up at his ceiling.

‘Who is your favorite fairy tale character?’ Ivar asked.

‘Alice from Alice in Wonderland.’ she replied without hesitation.

‘Imagine some caterpillar showing up and saying you’re the real Alice and you just don’t remember.’

‘I’m sure I’d be too freaked by a talking bug.’ she joked.

‘Well the guy looks like an insect.’ Ivar snipped.

‘That’s mean. How about tomorrow after you get out of school you come over and we can talk about this eyeless guy for a while before I have to go in for my sleep study.’

‘I thought you said no visitors.’

‘I did but I did say she likes you and she seems to trust you to make sure I don’t take a nap before my sleep study. My neighbor is going to be checking on me during school hours.’

‘OK, I’ll be there.’

‘Thanks, so we are good to go. Oh and Ivar...for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re selfish; you’re the most generous guy I’ve met.’

‘I’m happy that you think so, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Ivar said.

‘See you tomorrow Ivar.’ (Y/N) said before she hung up.

Ivar threw his phone down on his bed and closed his eyes.

She thought he was generous and that really made him feel bad about what he thought when Mr. Divine said too many people were at stake.

Why are they his responsibility?

[stregacorvina]

My first Smart Doll!

Meet Challenge 💜

I discovered Smart Doll during the end of Summer 2020 when we had the first lockdown here in Italy.

For those who don’t know, Smart Dolls are a brand of dolls created in Japan by Danny Choo, the son of the famous shoes designer Jimmy Choo. These dolls are handmade by small teams and everything is designed and assembled in Tokyo.

The “smart” feature of these dolls is that every part is detachable and can be replaced with something else, also these dolls can be assembled from scratch if you buy the single parts. Really amazing! They come in different skin colors (Challenge is in the color Cinnamon) realistic and not, the blue skin ones are quite popular.

Also Danny is trying to create an inclusive and friendly environment for these dolls creating also dolls with Vitiligo, burnt scars skin and aid accessories like asthma inhaler, hearing aids, crutches… and I’ve heard that the company gifts them to people that uses them in real life too when purchasing a doll!

There are a lot of different face molds every one of them with special features, all these dolls are really beautiful and their name reflect a different message that the creators are trying to convey. I immediately fell in love with Challenge, her face was stunning and also the concept behind her creation really resonated with me (here a few sentences from the Smart Doll website)

“…. Each time we avoid change, each time we step away from a challenge, we end up strengthening the default hardwired neural pathways - this is how we end up with a stubborn personality and stuck in a rut - you are not going to get to where you want without taking risks.

Challenge is a symbol and a reminder of why we are wired this way and that we have the ability to re-wire ourselves to take risks, embrace change and never fear failure. A “failure” is just another term for a step to success - without failure, there is no success.

Challenges not only involve change but also a risk of failure - a double whammy enough to keep most humans in their comfort zone….”

Unfortunately she was very expensive and at the time I wasn’t working very much so I couldn’t buy her right away 😩 but later every time I came back to the website she was always sold out so I thought it wasn’t destiny. 😭

But during a totally random day last month I checked one (the only?) of the European dealers for Smart Doll - Anime Sugoi - and there she was! In all her lilac glory 😂 So I decided that I wouldn’t let her go a second time!

And after a week, maybe less, of wait she is finally here in my arms 😍😍 I love her so much it’s really beautiful as I thought she will be, even more ❤️ I cannot wait to have some time do make her a lot of stylish clothes (as I don’t like very much the fit of the ones I made for my other BJDs)

Here she is with two of my other 1/3 Bjds (Morgana on the left and Meera on the right) as you can see it’s really noticeable the difference between the pink tone of Challenge’s vinyl skin and the yellow-ish resin of the other dolls (they have more than 15 years so be kind with them 😂) And you can see also that the shoulders of the shirt are totally out of place and that’s the major thing that throws me off 😡

I will post more and more about her in the next days and I really plan to come back to this blog and give it a new life as it’s been so long since a decent post! 😅

Until next time!

Chiara (Stregacorvina)

[ugh-tsumu]

Past Life Regression

Yk what, this blog has not been serving it's purpose. Haikyuu content? We don't know that. LOL. So maybe I'll change my branding soon. I'll just make this a ranting blog.

Anyways, Past Life Regression. I've been obsessed with that but just can't seem to undergo one. Mainly because of my aphantasia which is like, the inability to create images in the mind. It's hard to visualize myself—which is a necessity at the start of past life regression videos; to visualize yourself in a different scenario or something.

But somehow, yesterday, I was able to see one of my past lives. And it hit me. Hard. It was 2 AM in the morning and I have exams (today) but fuck it. My 'past life' was more important /j

As this post goes on, it's just rambling about my 'past' so...if you don't believe or want to read it, don't.

P.S. It can go historically or culturally inaccurate. I'm not really sure when it comes to other's culture, not mine.

I was asked by the video to imagine walking down a glass staircase. It is supposed to lead me to this abandoned seashore. I can't really create vivid pictures in my head in aphantasia, right? I settled with trying to relive the feeling of touching the staircase and the sand.

This is kind of a lengthy process so I'll fast forward. Late on, they made me visualize that I walked around, ran my feet into the sand, checked how far is the next island, visualize a campfire and so on. Honestly, at this point, I was already crying. I was crying of how beautiful the entire scene was. It was so peaceful.

The first snap has been commenced. The very first snap was supposed to let you see who you were in this past life. And as soon as sensation started to flood my brain, I cried.

All I "see" (feel) is a woman. A woman whom I think is a servant, judging by her clothes. I feel like this was on a medieval period? I searched her clothing and honestly, it's almost the same.

This woman is on the hall, staring at this one particular opened window (that is similar to medieval architectural design of windows—I just feel like I had to point that out). I cried so hard because it felt like she was familiar to me and at the same time, I felt pity for her. She just looked so lonely. There's not much that you can see outside the window because it still is castle walls so I'm wondering what's making her stare at it still.

I was asked how the clothes felt. It felt heavy. I was asked how she looked like. She looked like in her late 20's and tired. There were more things the video asked of me but I couldn't focus as I kept on crying. The speaker on the video then snapped their finger. That would supposedly lead me to their happiest memory.

It lead me to the very same woman, inside (I think this is shared among other servants) her chamber. There's not much furniture I could see. But she sat on the spot where the light from the open window hits. She was knitting and a smile is on her face. I cried harder (for the nth time) because even when I wasn't asked by the video yet on why was she happy, I knew the answer. She was expecting a child.

I didn't know if it was hers (is it a thing for servants to get impregnated?) or she's just genuinely happy for the woman she serves but it all made sense when the video snapped again. This snap was suppose to lead me to her memory with the most important person in her life.

It was her child. A girl. And nothing made me feel happier for her. The scene was that they were at the very same window I saw her staring at at the first snap. This time, the woman is kneeling as her hands are on her daughter's shoulders. They seem to appear talking but I cannot hear them. Her child is wearing worn-out clothes. Is it even allowed to have a servant's child be inside the castle?

The video asked me to asked them about their name, my name, or anything about this life. Which saddened and frustrated me because again, I don't see vivid images in my head. I was just clinging to the feeling. There was no way I could reach to them. Though, I did hear soft whispers. The names feel like they end with the word 'Rose'.

The video snapped again and it was supposed to lead me to a reoccurring theme in this past life. Hers was labor. She was scrubbing the floor while trying to make sure not to stain the sheets. And that was it. I know she didn't like it but she didn't have a choice.

I wanted to continue further, really. But the feelings were so overwhelming and I think I was also distracted with the random itchiness I felt on my skin. I accidentally opened my eyes which lost my concentration. And, it ends there. Sadly. I wanted to know more.

[missmalice202]

Designing Your Melody: Chapter 11 - Cupid’s Arrow

Chapter 01 - Chapter 10

“Today’s the day,” Marinette uttered nervously, pressing a hand against her churning stomach in a fruitless attempt to untie the knots her insides were tied in. Her nerves were stretched to the limit, ready to snap. She gazed up at the building where her fashion show would take place in a few short hours. She wasn’t ready to go inside. Not until her knees stopped trembling, at least.

She’d been a quivering mess since she woke up this morning. The countless hours of work had all led up to this moment. This was the goal she’d been working toward all these years. Every drop of blood, each drip of sweat, every single sleepless night spent hunched over her sewing machine had been for this chance to showcase her talents and hopefully catch the eye of a famous fashion house that would want to take her on as a designer.

Hands shaking, she gripped the strap of her purse in a futile attempt to steady them.

When a warm arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, she shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin. Spinning in place to view her attacker, she lost her balance and nearly fell over.

“Easy there, Marinette,” Adrien chuckled, hands gripping her arms to keep her on her feet. He gazed at her as she inhaled deeply, trying to keep herself from hyperventilating. “Are you going to be okay?”

Stepping back out of his personal space, she closed her eyes and counted to three, opening them once again to observe her friend.

He’d grown into a truly handsome man. His shining blond hair was artfully styled into deceptively careless disarray, a few wayward strands falling over his brow and into his vivid green eyes. Mouth pulled into a devious smirk, she heard him continue to laugh at her clumsiness. She pouted a bit at how truly handsome he was. It wasn’t fair for someone to be so damn good-looking.

“I’m fine,” she bit, annoyed that he had once again caught her unravelling at the seams. “I’m just a little nervous.”

He laughed. “A little? When I touched you, you nearly came out of your skin.”

“You just startled me, is all.”

Once more, Adrien chuckled softly at her. “You’ll do great. The hard part is already over. Now,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders once more, encouraging her to go inside with him, “let’s do this, Marinette.”

Gathering her courage, she held her head high and stepped inside.

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“Mlle. DuPain-Cheng, music starts in twenty minutes,” the producer – a severe-looking woman with auburn hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun - informed her, clipboard firmly in her hand. “Are your models ready?”

Glancing behind her at her friends, she smiled and nodded her head. She had just finished helping Juleka dress in her first outfit: a tunic length purple sweater with a wide cowl neck that exposed Juleka’s slender shoulders and black floral print leggings. Completing the ensemble was a pair of knee-high platform boots.

Adrien stood next to her looking absolutely dashing in a deep green, v-neck t-shirt, a casual pin-striped blazer emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. Dark washed jeans and white sneakers completed his look. If she had seen him in an outfit like this when she had still been infatuated with him, she would have gushed about how the color of his shirt perfectly matched his eyes and how the blazer drew attention to his perfect butt…

But she wasn’t still infatuated with him, so she’d keep those thoughts to herself, she mused.

“You guys look amazing,” she said happily. “Thank you so much for helping me today, guys. I really appreciate it.”

Juleka smiled softly and said, “No, Marinette, thank you for giving me an opportunity to walk down the catwalk. You’re helping me as much as I’m helping you. I even asked my brother to come today so he could see me model in your show. He was so proud of me when I told him I was going to be modelling during Fashion Week and it’s all thanks to you.. With as much attention as you’re sure to get with your fabulous clothes, I’ll get to shine along side you as your model.” She giggled softly as she cocked her hip out. “With clothes as cute as these, there’s no way they’re not going to love you.”

“She’s right, you know.” Adrien reached over and rested his elbow on Juleka’s shoulder, grinning at her. “You’re going to be a smash hit, my Lady. You’re not alone here. Alya is covering your show for her blog, Nino’s up in the DJ booth cuing up the music as we speak, and don’t forget your parents out in the audience. We’re all here for you and we’re so proud of you.”

“Thanks, guys.” Reassured from her friends’ kind words, she shook her head and focused on the task at hand.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

In the audience, Luka was waiting patiently for the show to begin. Looking around, he saw a few familiar faces, which put him at ease. Across the room, up in the DJ booth, Nino had his headphones on, jamming out the music only he could hear as he got his set list ready for the show. Wondering at the small world he lived in, he spotted Alya Cesaire, Nino’s girlfriend, sitting in the front row, taking pictures with her cell phone and excitedly tapping away on the screen. Must be doing a story on Fashion Week for her blog, he thought. He’d run into her a few times when he and Nino had collaborated together on a project.

Personally, he was excited to see his sister in her first fashion show. Really was proud of how much she’s grown in the past few years. When she had first told him she wanted to be a model, he supported her dream whole-heartedly, but worried whether someone as introverted as she could make it in such a cut-throat business.

His worries had been unnecessary. She had proved all who doubted her wrong and had been steadily finding work doing magazine ads and even appearing on a few billboards recently. But nothing could compare to this. Even though it was for an unknown designer, being able to put that she’d modeled in a Fashion week show would open a lot of doors for her modeling career and he wished nothing but the best for his beloved sister. He’d be there to watch over her, after all.

When the lights dimmed, he sat up, eyes focused on the raised catwalk and waited to see his sister. Techno music pounded through the once silent room, increasing the energy level in the room with is solid base beat.

Behind a screen at the entrance of the stage, he saw a feminine silhouette appear, striking a sassy pose with her hip cocked and her hand behind her head. His mouth gaped as he watched his sister - his shy, mild mannered sister – strut down the lane, hair billowing behind her and her eyes on fire. He could barely recognize his sibling in this fierce woman posing at the end of the walk, showcasing the outfit she was wearing.

When she disappeared backstage, the screen illuminated again, this time outlining a male model. His eyes widened when he recognized the man from advertisements plastered with his face all over the city. It was Adrien Agreste, the face of his father’s internationally branded fashion line. Screams erupted in the room as the audience recognized the handsome model strutting down the catwalk with the grace and intensity of a panther.

The designer responsible for this show was very smart to use him for their show, he decided. Come morning, their designs would be plastered all over social media and possibly even the news now that Adrien Agreste was the one wearing them. And his sister would be piggy-backing on top of that fame, launching her own career into possible fame.

Once the blond model retreated backstage to prepare his next outfit, Luka watched as his sister once again took the stage, wearing a completely different ensemble. How they changed her entire look in less than two minutes was absolutely astounding. It must be pure chaos behind the scenes, he mused.

However, his amusement faded as he continued to watch the show. With each ensemble that was shown, his eyes narrowed further. He recognized some of these clothes. He’d seen them taped to the wall when he’d delivered that fabric to his designer.

It’s impossible, he thought to himself. There’s no way such coincidences exist.

Still denying the possibility that the girl he’d been looking for for so long was the one who was responsible for the show that his sister was modeling in, his jaw dropped when Adrien walked out in his final look: the embroidered blazer that Luka had seen hanging on the mannequin.

Suspicions confirmed, he grinned, disbelieving his luck. Now, he wouldn’t have to try to track her down. He found her without even knowing he’d done it. Even better, his sister already knew his elusive designer and could introduce her to him after the show.

He whistled under his breath when he saw the show’s final piece. Juleka came out dressed in a gorgeous dress. The strapless top shimmered with beads under the bright stage lights. A silver-buckled black satin belt transitioned into a full skirt. The outer layer of black satin contrasted beautifully with the deep purple satin lining, visible due to the front of the skirt ending at Juleka’s thighs and the back cascading down to the floor. Opaque black stockings covered her exposed legs and protected the modesty of his sister, which he was secretly grateful for.

She gracefully walked to the end of the catwalk where Adrien was waiting for her. With a final pose, the two models leaned into each other with wide smiles in response to the roaring applause thundering through the room. turning toward the entrance of the stage, they waved, gesturing for someone to join them.

Tearing his eyes away from his stunning sister, his breath caught when the designer stepped on stage. He could almost hear the twang as he felt a punch in the gut, like he’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow.

She was petite and slender, her limbs willowy and graceful as she joined her models. Her dark hair shined blue under the lights, pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck with a few tendrils escaping to caress her neck. Her bright, blue eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stood proudly next to her designs. Pink lips stretched into a grin as she reached her hands out to either side of her and took her companion’s hands. With a final smile at the audience, the trio bowed, thanked the audience for their praise, and escaped backstage.

Luka was stunned. How on earth had he missed how pretty she was when she crashed into him that first day? In his defense, she had been in such a hurry and so he hadn’t had the chance to get a good look at her, but had he really been so oblivious?

Unable to wait another minute to finally meet his elusive muse – and congratulate his sister on a job well done – he rose from his seat and made his way back stage, eager to be introduced to the blue-eyed beauty responsible for the music pounding in his head.

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Chapter 12

*OMG, It’s almost time! He knows! Aaaaah! Hahaha, sorry. I’m just really excited for these two to get some time together in the same room. Next time, I promise! But things aren’t going to go so easily for them once they do meet face-to-face mwahahaha!

Once again, thanks for taking the time to read this and give me your likes and reblogs. Leave me a reply about what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’d like to see. Your feedback gives me fuel to better myself and my writing.

Until next time, my lovelies, XOXO*

@write-for-your-life2

[modafactor]

Indigenous Inspirations: The Kaba dress

Presenting a new series, ‘Indigenous Inspirations’ where we explore the rich sartorial traditions and textile art forms of diverse countries and cultures.

In the wake of the current global scenario, it is important,more than ever, to promote and reclaim the power back to cultures that deserve to be preserved and appreciated, to bring the spotlight back to the richness and beauty of these cultures, including their clothing history.

Keeping that in mind, In the first edition of Indigenous Inspirations, We take a look at the Kaba, a beautiful dress worn by the women of Cameroon, In Central Africa.

Above: An artistic rendition of a modern interpretation of Kaba partly based on the writer’s memory

I have a personal story associated with how I first came across this beautiful garment. Noticing an exchange student walk past in a beautiful and colorful garment i didn’t know the name of, It was also the silhouette, which looking at from afar, consisted of a gored skirt and (If I recollect correctly) A top reminscent of a peplum silhouette. Being a fashion student at the time, I walked up to her and complimented her on her beautiful traditional dress and asked her about the same. “It’s called a Kaba”, She said, and up close, the combination of the colors yellow, red, blue, green, seemed to match perfectly with her beautiful and smooth ebony skin, accessorised with simple, colorful beaded earrings. 

A quick google search after this conversation on ‘ Kaba’ and ‘Cameroon’ provided with very little written information, but a substancial amount of Caba images, consisting of various silhouettes and prints.

Here is a compilation of those pictures and some information on the beautiful garment, that is the Kaba.

The Kaba, is a maxi dress with a yoke, extending from above the bust, worn by the Sawa women of Cameroon. While the authentic kaba is usually a maxi dress, most women tend to call any loose fitted dress sewn with Batik or Wax visco fabric as a Kaba.

The Kaba is thought to have been  created by Hélène Saker, the wife of missionary Alfred Saker, to ‘ cover the naked bodies of her husband’s servants, and make them presentable before God and missionaries, such as her husband.’

Certain sources, however, seem to claim that the Kaba is purely of Cameroonian conception and origin.

Regardless, According to Cameroon Gallery, the Kaba created by Hélène had no glamour or beauty, and resembled a ‘large bag’ consisting of 4 openings: 2 sleeves, and one opening each for the head and feet.

As the Kaba spread beyond the maid-servants and into the daily wardrobe of the women, It underwent many transformations, and the Kaba came to represent the history and culture of the women of the coast of Cameroon, and has also become the outift of choice for the Sawa women during the festival of Ngondo.

The Kaba finds relevance in the present day as the honorary garment of some respected women, such as elders and high-class ladies.

Incorporating various eye-catching prints and stylish modern silhouettes, the modern-day Kaba seems to reflect the changing tastes of modern Cameroonian women, with google search suggestions such as ‘latest kaba styles 2020′.

The Kaba and slit silhouette, often worn in Ghana, consists of a blouse and a skirt.

 Modern interpretations of Kaba also consist of innovative and eye-catching looks such as the one below.

Modern day adaptations inspired by the Kaba into day to day dresses consisting of simple silhouettes, keeping intact the eye-catching prints and colors of the original can also be seen.

In recent times, the Kaba has also inspired young African fashion designers in their collections. One such collection, is ‘Ngondo’, a 2018 Resort Collection hy Maison D’Afie. 

(You can read the original blogpost on the collection written by a Nigerian Fashion and lifestyle blog,here.)

The collection,Ngondo, draws inspiration from the Kaba, worn by the Cameroonian women in colonial times. The colors used in the collection also reflect the culture and lifestyle of the Sawa tribe, from where, Sarah Divine-Garba, the creative director of the brand hails from.

The collection re-interprets the style elements of  traditional kaba into modern and elegant silhouettes, with numerous alterations to the original silhouette, using techniques such as pleats, and elaborate sleeve styles and rich yet subdued colors of green, and brown, with accents of colors such as yellow and pink, also incorporating prints reminscent of the original Kaba.

One thing that binds the traditional Kaba and it’s modern interpretations, is that it represents the aspirations and rich cultural heritage of the culture it hails from.

A garment that symbolises deep cultural meaning, the future of this beautiful garment,Kaba, seems bright and promising.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Hoodie

Pairing:  Bakugou x Koge (OC) Genre: Humor / Fluff Rating: Explicit Warnings: Masturbation, thigh fucking, humiliation, orgasm denial, dirty words and vulgar phrases 

a/n: Inspired by a stupid meme I found on Facebook ╮(╯∀╰)╭ Might do a pt. 2 at... some point. Enjoy anyways~

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Under the cut~

“Is that what I think it is?!” Koge couldn’t restrain the excited squeak in her voice, fingers over her lips as she gazed upon the form of her lover. Bakugou had come home a bit later than normal, having to attend a meeting about the subject of Koges current excitement. That thing being, the very first sample of his hero brands' clothing line: a hoodie. Although it was a bit oversized for him, the large red X and green accents were eye-catching and made it clear exactly what the garment was supposed to represent. Simple, but stunning, and Koge found herself loving it immediately.

Setting down his duffel bag, Bakugou glowered at his longtime girlfriend in annoyance of her chipper excitement. “Yes. Not even going to say ‘hi’?”

Koge put down the shirt in her hand, abandoning laundry in favor of hugging him. “Welcome home, Katsuki. I can’t believe it finally came in!” She gave a small hum in happiness as he squeezed her back, sharing a kiss before releasing each other.

“Took damn long enough. But yeah, it’s not bad.” Bakugou took hold of the end of the hoodie, pulling it taught to look at the design. “Might change the fabric but the design is fucking on point. They did well.”

“You did good, Katsuki.” Koge smiled as she observed it, before looking up at him to catch the red flushing of his ears. “You designed it, after all. It’s the only sample?”

“Nah, I have a… hat and some other shit in my bag. You can check it out if you want, I need to piss.” As he pulled both his hoodie and work shirt off in one fell swoop, he tossed them into the bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the clean laundry basket. “Thanks for getting my laundry down.”

“Of course, love. You didn’t put it too high on the line this time so I could reach it all.” Koge had her eyes on him at every moment, and the instant he shut the bathroom door behind him, the hoodie was in her hands. After first removing his shirt that was all tangled up inside, she looked over every inch of it. What made it even more enticing to her at the moment was that it smelled like him, and she very much found herself wanting to wear it. So, while he was still changing, she stripped herself of her t-shirt and shorts to leave her in just a pair of panties.

The hoodie, of course, swallowed her completely. It ended right at her upper thigh, with the sleeves falling way past her hands. That was of little consequence, however, as that was how all his clothes ever fit her. This one was special, though. It was his very first merchandise for his brand, a sign of his improvement and proof that he was climbing the popularity ladder. In fact, it made her so proud she nearly felt the urge to cry, wanting to just hug and squeeze her lover for his accomplishments.

“I just got that and you already took it. Seriously, Utsuro?”

Koge turned to look up at Bakugou, who was glowering down at her. Still, she wasn’t bothered by his comment, holding her arms out and waving them a bit. “I had to try it! I’m just so happy for you, Katsuki, you finally have your own merch! I’m so proud of you!”

Becoming a bit bashful with her praise, Bakugou huffed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Though, it wasn’t just her words making him lock up. She looked so damn adorable, the hoodie reminding him just how petite she was. The flushed and happy smile on her face didn’t help, and he wanted to just scoop her up and squeeze her.

“Alright, alright, Utsuro, stop ranting!” Bakugou latched his arms around her, pulling her to him and placing a rough kiss on her cheek. Laughing softly, Koge wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him back just as tightly as he nearly lifted her off the ground.

“I’m not ranting, Katsuki! I’m just so proud of you. You’ll be the top hero in no time.” She caught his lips in a kiss, her stomach fluttering at the way he caressed her body, as if he loved the feeling of her form beneath the fabric of the hoodie. “My big strong hero… Now I get to rep you everywhere I go.”

Bakugou couldn’t resist a smirk against her lips, the boost of his ego breaking through the temporary embarrassment. “Oh yeah? Gonna rep as my number one fan?”

“All day, every day, babe. You’ve always been my number one.”

“Of course I fucking have. Because I’m the best.” Placing her back down on her feet normal, Bakugou gave her another kiss as he gave her backside a few good smacks. “It looks good on you, though.”

Releasing him as he set her free, Koge looked down at herself. “Yeah? It’s so big.”

“Yeah, it is. But you like big things. Just like my dic-“

“Dinner!” Koge cut in, a sly smirk on her lips as she snatched his hand to lead him towards the kitchen. “Your dinner, of course.”

“No, I meant my dick.” Another hard smack to her ass made Koge squeak, hopping away from him to avoid further spankings.

“Don’t be dirty, Katsuki- ah, hey!” She stumbled backward as Bakugou snatched onto the hood, giving it the smallest tug to yank her back to him. Her back against him, she quickly found herself trapped with one hand on her hip while the other took hold of her chin, keeping her head still to place a firm kiss on her cheek. Before she could protest, his lips moved to her ear, the deep growl of his voice instantly making her body flush with heat.

“Can’t help it. You look so fucking hot in my hoodie, Utsuro.” With a rough nibble to a particularly sensitive spot on Koge’s neck right under her ear, both of his hands moved to caress her breasts on the outside of the hoodie. Her hands having been in the large pocket in the front garment, Koge found herself unable to move away from him, if she had wanted to in the first place. The fact that he was so excited just from her wearing this new clothing made her feel a bit… victorious. She had been stealing and wearing his clothes, from t-shirts to boxers, ever since they started dating nearly seven years ago. In the beginning, he had always been sexually drawn to her when she put on his clothes, but now he was used to it. Seeing her in his very first hero branded merch, though? That was new and Koge wasn’t going to miss out on this for anything, not even the food that was growing cold on the stove.

As a soft gasp escaped her lips, her body tingling from head to toe, she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his hands moved, massaging and pinching her nipples through the fabric. A particularly rough squeeze and a bite to her sensitive skin forced a moan from her, leaning her head back against him as she nibbled at her bottom lip. “Mmm… What does that make you want to do, Katsuki?”

“Makes me want to fuck you in it.” Turning them a bit, he shoved her towards the couch, prompting her to sit upon it with her knees. Holding onto the back, Koge provocatively displayed her backside to him, swaying her hips teasingly. The hoodie still didn’t uncover her body, covering up just to the edge of the curve of her ass, only a hint of her pale blue underwear peeking out at him.

“Yeah? Does it turn you on to see me in your hero merch?” Koge slipped a hand between her legs, the way she teased her sex mostly obscured by the clothing. It was still enough to excite Bakugou more, who placed one burning hand on her backside with the other removed himself from his sweatpants. Koge could feel how burning hot his palm was even with the fabric between their skin, a small smirk crossing her lips as she continued her teasing with soft moans and arching her back to press her ass closer to him. “Look how hot I am for you, Katsuki. How horny it makes me to know just how hard I make you. Don’t you want to fuck me?” Her entire body shivered as he pushed the hoodie up to reveal her ass to him, a squeak from her lips following a hard slap to her skin.

“I want to fucking destroy you.” With a tug on the hoodie, Bakugou pulled her upper body back against him, one hand gripping onto her throat. The other moved to shift her underwear to the side, though instead of entering her, he let his cock rest between her legs. Her hot and soaked underwear helped keep him snug against her sex as he began to rock his hips. The feeling of his hard cock stroking against her clit made Koge’s entire body tingle with pleasure. For now, his movements were slow and rough, both hands moving to squeeze and tease her breasts again. Koge wasn’t sure what had him taking his time, but she couldn’t complain, willing to take and do anything he wanted just so he would pleasure her.

In fact, she could already feel herself starting to become lost in the slow and sensual pleasure, her head leaning back against him. With very little prompting, she turned her head just enough to catch his lips in a kiss, unable to resist her soft moans as he increased his speed. She felt completely breathless as his tongue invaded her mouth, kissing her passionately and muffling her sounds of pleasure. Koge found herself completely enamored with the way he dominated over her, his strength and passion forcing her to submit his pleasures. Within minutes, she was already near cumming, though it was quite obvious to her that he was, as well.

Releasing her lips, he instead moved to her ear, one hand coming back up to grip her throat. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you, Utsuro? Just so long as I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes, Katsuki-” Koge struggled to speak between her moans and his grip. “A-anything for you.”

Though, what she wanted wasn’t what she received. With a sly smirk against her cheek, Bakugou finished off with his final few thrusts, releasing his cum against her sex and into her underwear. At first, Koge was so shocked by the sudden heat that she tried to shift her hips away from him, though his arm wrapping around her waist and hugging her snug against him prevented that.

“W-wait, did you just finish? What about me?” Koge gripped onto the arm of the hand that still gripped her neck, her stomach fluttering with annoyance and arousal at the sound of him panting into her shoulder. “I was so close!”

“You’ll get it when I let you.” Bakugou gripped her chin, turning her head to catch her glare with his own. “My little horny Utsuro.” The smirk and words that came from his lips instantly crumbled her annoyance into the unbearable need for release, wanting so badly to move her hips.

“Please, Katsuki… please let me cum, I can’t take it.” She dug her nails into his arm as he removed his cock from between her legs, leaving her with nothing but the hot and gooey feeling of his cum. There was quite a bit staining her underwear, and as the fabric settled, she could feel it begin to dribble down her thigh. It was so hot along with her own mess, her mind already beginning to go insane without him inside her. “You’re so mean!”

“I’m going to give it to you. If you earn it.” Bakugou released her body, settling his cock back into his sweats while she turned to face him.

“I did earn it already!” Koge wrapped her arms around his neck, pouting up at him. “What do I have to do? I’ll put the fucking hat on if you want!”

Bakugou chuckled, his hands firmly on her hips. “No. You let our dinner get cold, Utsuro-“

“-that’s not all my fault-!”

“So we have to go get some take out. And you’re going dressed exactly how you are.” Bakugou kissed her lips, sliding his hands forward to grip and squeeze her backside. His touch only further made Koge aware of his mess in her underwear, though the thought of going outside like this made her incredibly hot. He had her wrapped around his little finger and he knew it, taking full advantage of her kinks and addictions to persuade her. Koge had no reason to protest, either. She may have been annoyed with him, but playing along was too enticing for her to ignore.

Bakugou continued after releasing the kiss, just his burning glare enough to make Koge feel breathless. “You’re going down the street with my cum in your underwear. Exactly as you should be, as my number one fan. If you’re a good girl, I’ll really give you something to moan about.”

[fromherlips]

you’re gonna live forever in me

did y’all REALLY think my ass wasn’t going to do something for this? i remember thinking that 2019 was so far away when i finished ‘in your atmosphere’ and now it’s here and i’m here and we’re here and i can’t believe that time has passed like this. in full disclosure: this is completely self-indulgent. i haven’t written anything in almost a year but i couldn’t resist. so, here we are, pals. many, many years later. happy end of nyfw!

New York Fashion Week was a spectacle that Eva had dreamed about since she was a kid. Growing up, it was a week long event she strived to be a part of, someway, somehow. She wanted to live and breathe the same air as the editors and buyers, cramped in the corner in standing room only or sat in the frow, brushing shoulders with fashion’s elite. It happened twice a year and determined trends, styles, moods, personalities, and so much more.

Eva’s first fashion week was just two weeks after she moved to the city. She didn’t know a single soul, but went to shows to cover for her boss, an influencer with enough clout to land her in the front row. Eva sat rows behind, not important enough to land a coveted seat, but she was just happy to be there. Things were different now. Seats were filled by Instagram following and not status in the industry, but she was stuck in the whirlwind of Manhattan (despite subletting a closet-less room in Crown Heights). Eva was left taking notes on her phone, geared up to write a review for her boss’ blog after their next show, typing furiously on her outdated iPhone (by New York standards) in the back of a luxury Lyft while they carted off to the next show.

By the end of her first day carting around from show to show and trying to keep up with her new boss who didn’t talk very much–not even on her Instagram Stories–but seemed to know anyone and everyone at the shows and events they attended, Eva was exhausted. She collapsed onto her stiff mattress, the cheapest she could find on Wayfair without blowing through the meager savings she had from college, too tired to go to the fridge to get water and heat up the pasta she had made the night before, and too burnt out to talk to her roommates who were perched on the couch watching whatever they were binging on Netflix at the time.

With her clothes still on, Eva rested her hand on her cheek, careful not to transfer any makeup onto her comforter. She squeezed her eyes shut, the feeling she’d been trying to suppress for months creeping up. It came to her in the moments when her guard was down, when she was too tired to fight the thoughts that plagued her mind. But in her moments of weakness, her mind always traveled back to the moment in his bedroom, both crumpled on the floor, sobbing like they’d never sobbed before. Back to the green-eyed, floppy-haired boy with tattoos scattered across his skin, the same skin her fingers had skimmed over, the same skin she felt beneath her, on top of her. Back to the person she loved the most in this world, the only person she wanted to curl up next to after a long day.

Harry was everywhere. There were the obvious places. On the radio when she took cars with her boss (she couldn’t afford them on her own), playing when she browsed through stores while she tried to make friends, on posters around the city promoting their newest single, one that Eva couldn’t bear to listen to anymore. He was in the Chloe perfume she kept on her nightstand, in the threads of her Wildfox sweatpants she debated on donating before she moved, in the sketchbooks she hadn’t touched since she moved. Harry was everything and then he was nothing and Eva was the only person to blame.

She hated that word, blame. But what else was she supposed to call it? She knew it was for the best, somewhere deep down within herself, even if she couldn’t recognize it anymore. But knowing it was right didn’t make it less painful. Knowing it was right didn’t make the image of his face, puffy and red and damp with tears, disappear from her memory. It didn’t make her stop missing him. It didn’t change anything, but it kept her hopeful, even if it didn’t feel that way most of the time.

Eva felt sad and lost and lonely and like she was failing at everything she set out to accomplish. She wanted New York City more than anything she wanted in this entire life. But she knew it wouldn’t be easy. So she cried into her brand new sheets after her first day of New York Fashion Week. She cried for Harry, she cried for herself, she cried for the unknown.

That was the last time she had cried during Fashion Week. Her life in New York still brought her to tears, but she was starting to learn that it was normal in her twenties and the breakdown she had during her fifth month living in the city was a right of passage that she accomplished early on. It took her six months to feel okay with herself, but not once did she doubt the decision she had made to move. She knew the city would knock her on her ass, both figuratively and literally (tequila, stilettos, and cobblestone in Soho don’t mix), but it was worth it, wasn’t it?

By her second spring/summer fashion week the next year, Eva felt confident in herself, in her work, in who she was becoming. She sketched more, she made friends, she invested in a mattress topper to make her sleep schedule less painful. She had also started dating a model (unplanned) who lived near her office (convenient) and had blonde hair and brown eyes and not a single tattoo anywhere on his body. She thought she had loved Paul but when they broke up ten months later because of distance (the irony didn’t miss her), Eva didn’t cry, didn’t dwell, didn’t spend months wondering if it was the wrong choice. She wasn’t angry or hurt or confused, she just felt lonely again in the big city, something easily solvable by brunch, happy hour, or casual movie nights with friends.

By fashion week in 2019, Eva had been in the city for over three years and was still settling into her position at Milly. She loved working as an assistant and adored styling for the now defunct print magazine that likely still owed her some money, but being a design assistant at Milly was everything she could have asked for as a 25 (going on 26) year-old. She was still close with Jillian and her old boss, which is how she somehow managed to score an invite to a Conde Nast party on the second night of fashion week.

She had gotten a dress lent from a PR company thanks to Jill and somehow managed to figure out her hair and makeup on her own. Eva painted her lips with crimson red, a stark contrast from the cobalt blue of her dress and white frothy collar adorning her neck. She’d slicked her hair back for ease (and because it was admittedly a bit dirty), hoping it would stay in place throughout the night so she wouldn’t nervously play with it. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the party aside from free food and drinks and hopefully some entertainment.

Eva spent the first hour wandering around with a glass of champagne in her hand, making eye contact with people she vaguely knew from other events or photoshoots but didn’t speak to out of fear of conversational rejection, something she knew well from living in Los Angeles for so long. It didn’t bother her, she liked the people watching and was just happy to be there, truthfully.

A seemingly familiar face caught her eye, but she figured she was just seeing things. Forever a lightweight, she was already two glasses of champagne deep on an almost empty stomach and was seeing things. Hallucinating. It could have been anybody.

She switched to water and grabbed a few hors d'oeuvres, silently chewing in the corner of the space while she tried to sober up. This wasn’t the night for reminiscing. This was a Conde-fucking-Nast New York Fashion Week Party, for gods sake.

At least half an hour had passed and Eva had made the rounds again after meeting up with Jillian and one of her industry friends for a legitimate conversation on Fashion Week plans and not something superficial (which was gratefully appreciated after her years of fashion week attendance). She was in search of another drink now that she was sure she was done seeing things.

Unfortunately, Eva couldn’t make it to one of the waiters making the rounds before she saw the familiar face again. This time, she couldn’t blame it on the alcohol because she knew it was real. He was alone now, swirling what was left in his champagne glass. He looked the same, yet entirely different, and Eva felt transported to a different time. A time when he was hers and she was his and they were tangled underneath the sheets of her bed in that shitty Los Angeles apartment that was too small for her and her things and their makeshift life together.

She felt nauseous then sad then nauseous again. Was the room spinning? It felt like it was spinning. She wondered if this moment would ever happen, if fate would put the two of them back in the room together (even if fate went by the name of Niall, her meddling friend that wanted his power couple back together). She even thought about what she might say–what she might do–if she was put into this situation. But now she was here in a pretty dress and wanted to bolt as far away from the boy whose heart she broke so many years ago, the boy who wrote a Grammy nominated album on how she’d ripped his heart out, the boy who probably deserved better but also needed to grow up.

Despite the fear and nausea, Eva felt herself walking towards the person she’d never thought she would see again. Did he see her? She thought he looked her way, but he didn’t start sprinting so maybe he’d looked right past her. She was still the same Eva, but her hair was shorter and her cheeks more angular. But then she could see his eyes fixated on her, watching her as she maneuvered through the party guests that seemed to gather in his atmosphere.

She didn’t have a line planned. Was she just going to say “hi” or “hello” or just silently stare and hope that was a sufficient greeting? This worried her as she approached him, her feet planting straight in front of the boy she used to love.

“Eva,” he said, no greeting required. “What’re you...hi.”

She tucked a rogue curl behind her ear, sweeping it back from her chin.

“Harry,” she replied, her lips curling into a sweet smile. “Congrats on the new album coming out in a couple of months. It’s nice to see you back with the boys.”

Congrats on the new album? Is that all she could say?

“I...thank you,” he replied. “It’s nice to, erm, be back,” he told her.

“Right, I can imagine,” she said, her heart thumping harder in her chest. Was she okay? Or was seeing Harry after all these years setting her into panic mode? “You lads are close. But, I-uh...how’ve you been, Harry?”

How have you been? Are you serious, Eva? What the fuck, she thought.

“Same old,” he replied.”What about you? I didn’t, um, didn’t know you’d be here?”

She quirked her brow. “In New York or at the party?”

“The party,” he replied. “Niall...he told me you were here a while ago.”

She nodded. Niall was their unofficial liaison, it appeared.

“I saw that you moved here,” she said. “Those damn trending headlines. Niall mentioned it once or twice or a dozen times as well.”

“Just needed a change of pace,” he explained with a shrug. “I’ve always liked visiting, Figured there could be no harm in living here for a bit.

“It’s a good place to be,” she agreed.

She knew she was staring, but there was something so mesmerizing about Harry. She was no stranger to his good looks and undeniable charm. The thing about Harry was that she still saw him everywhere. She saw his many haircuts, his new tattoos, the shift in his style. She saw his attempt to grow facial hair and the 90s haircut and the mismatched rings adorned on his fingers. But she still took the time to study his face and take him in for all that he was, finally in front of her after all of those years.

It didn’t escape Eva that this was how they first met. Well, kind of. He was drunk and slurring but still trying to be as helpful as he could be. Eva was burnt out and fighting imposter syndrome, wondering what this pop star was doing talking to her in the room full of people who were infinitely more interesting than she was. But now she was drunk (or at least buzzed) standing in front of the same boy in his pastel blue pants and ruffled shirt for the first time since that night in his bedroom, the night that changed everything for them, whether she liked it or not.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been staring, but Eva snapped out of her daze when she heard Harry speak again.

“Coffee,” he said, beginning to play with the rings on his fingers.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“I mean...we should get coffee. Or smoothies. Or…” he stammered, letting his voice trail off.

“I’m pretty busy this week,” she replied.

“Fuck, right,” he swore. “Fashion week...you’re right.”

“But give me your new number and I’ll let you know when I’m free when this week from hell ends,” she added quickly, fishing her phone out of her clutch. She tapped her feet nervously while Harry typed his number in. Niall had tried giving it to her but she didn’t trust herself with it. She’d have one too many drinks and say things she didn’t mean. Or worse, she’d let it sit and rot in her contacts, too afraid of what could happen.

Eva wanted to linger in his presence, soaking up every last second of his aura. But instead, she slipped her clutch back underneath her arm, taking two steps backwards as she waved goodbye, faintly smiling at the boy in front of her.

“Good luck, Ev,” he told her as she walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

It felt like she was walking through a daydream. She could barely register anything around her. She merely grabbed another glass of champagne, pressing the glass against her lips and leaving a deep red stain in its place. She found a semi-abandoned corner of the room, sipping slowly while she tried to process the moment. It was short, no longer than five minutes, but it felt as if she had been standing in front of Harry for a lifetime.

For so long, she wondered what she would say to him, what she would do, how she would feel. But nothing could prepare her for the actual moment when their lives collided again, intersecting like they had when they were nineteen and drunk and tired and two entirely different people. 

Their moment was over, but it didn’t feel as such. She felt something in the pit of her stomach, albeit faint, but it was there. It very well could have been the champagne, or hope, or a combination of both. Harry Styles had managed to orbit back into her life, or hers into his, but this time it felt different. She felt different. And that had to mean something.

[larryforevs]

Comprehending Hair Modifications Throughout Chemotherapy

Hair loss is among one of the most mentally painful components of the cancer therapy experience for several. Nothing screams "I have cancer cells!" louder than a bald head as well as a face without eyebrows as well as lashes. As a radiation treatment patient, I went through the scary of hair adjustments throughout chemotherapy very first hand. As a skin specialist, I recognized that hair loss was an unavoidable part of my cancer cells therapy, and I still experienced it when it occurred to me. Some radiation treatment drugs influence hair development more than others. The dosage of the chemo medicines are additionally crucial to how significantly a chemo program will effect your hair. Greater doses of the greatest hair growth culprits will have a lot more remarkable effect on your hair follicles. What occurs during chemo is that the medications that impact hair growth actually shut down the follicle cells that are in charge of hair shaft formation as well as development. These are your hair matrix cells, and they stay at the deepest part of your hair follicle. Before you begin chemo, 90% of your scalp's 100,000 hairs are expanding in the hair follicles. (We generally say they remain in the "anagen stage," which indicates the development phase.) Matrix cells really come to be the hair shaft (they expand, separate and end up being "keratinized" implying they pass away as a framework full of the healthy protein called keratin). In the process of growing hair, your hair roots make a lot of cells that after that die to develop into the actual hair shaft. Under typical scenarios, the other 10% of your scalp hair follicles are relaxing for a short amount of time, indicating the hairs are not expanding (we call this phase of the hair cycle the "telogen stage"). They eventually dropped their hairs when their interior "clock" tells them to return into the growth (anagen) phase. This is why it's typical to lose around 100 hairs daily. In relaxing telogen phase, chemo does not cause much effect. Chemo drugs that cause hair loss do so by briefly closing down the anagen growth stage of hair matrix cells. These hectic cells can not divide to grow the hair shaft due to exactly how the chemo drugs really function. Whether it's cancer cells, your digestive tract cells or your hair matrix cells, these medicines stop cells from splitting. The hair matrix cells quit splitting, the growing hair suddenly stops expanding, as well as the hair just breaks short. Lots of individuals note an experience of discomfort when this occurs, as I certainly did. Exactly how is chemo loss of hair various than loss of hair after surgical procedure, pregnancy or extreme illness? This kind of loss of hair is different from the kind of hair dropping that occurs after pregnancy or surgical treatment. That type of loss occurs since hair matrix cells were all taken into a resting phase of telogen as a survival device induced by the physiologic "trauma" endured. When the body really feels adequately recovered, the follicles appear of telogen "hybernation;" once they get up, they grow a brand-new hair, pushing the old hair out of the shaft. This is called telogen effluvium. (The word "effluvium" is derived from a Latin term that means "to drain.") With telogen effluvium, the matrix is not shut down but just enters into its typical physiologic resting state. It then gets up once more to make a completely new hair and has to push the resting one out to make room for much more. Why can hair sometimes expand back midway through chemo? During a training course of chemotherapy, some individuals's hair might grow back mid-way with their round of chemo. I'm usually asked why this occurs. It can happen when medicines are transformed to chemo representatives that are not as hostile versus hair growth. Various medicines have different effect on hair growth and not all medicines trigger hair loss. Chemo regimens frequently transform over a program of treatment, and as a client, you don't always observe. For instance, the breast cancer chemo treatment called "AC/T" includes one component where you are offered Adriamycin as well as Cytoxan. The other part of the treatment includes a phase where you are given a drug like Taxol. This is what I had. The Adriamycin is truly difficult on the hair roots. Taxol was difficult as well, so there was no regrowth for me or the numerous other bust cancer cells individuals treated with this chemo program. It was absolutely not an enjoyable experience! What happens to hair growth when chemo mores than?. Hair regrowth after radiation treatment is typically a crazy experience with brand-new color, structure as well as "style" for a while. We don't precisely recognize why, but dark hair might be available in snow white, straight hair can come in curly, etc. My very own hair was as curly as a lamb's hair, which I have to state, I actually loved. It's an enigma though. What we do recognize is that as soon as radiation treatment is stopped, the radiation treatment medications gradually leave the body as well as the matrix cells progressively recuperate and begin splitting again. There's probably a complex biochemical healing that the cells experience when the matrix cells are stopped and after that begin healing after chemo. That process of healing is probably is why shade as well as appearance are a bit arbitrary. We do not recognize precisely what is going on, however researchers are examining the process in the hopes of comprehending it. The bottom line is that the procedure of post-chemo hair regrowth depends on an individual's distinct hair roots physiology and the chemo cocktail they got. Normally, hair color and also appearance changes after chemo are short-term. I 'd love my chemo curls to be irreversible, however they are growing out and my hair is once more ending up being directly. Is it possible for your hair to be permanently changed by chemo? Yes, and unfortunately, there are also some situations where an individual's hair does not grow back well after chemo. Hair growth is absolutely one of the adventures as well as misadventures that go along with the cancer survivor experience. I'm grateful to be here to experience it, hairless head, curly or straight hair and all. To find out more regarding my experience with chemo and likewise some other lessons that I discovered, have a look at all my chemotherapy posts that I wrote as a doctor going through chemo.. Likewise, make sure to have a look at the chemotherapy products collection that I developed based upon my experiences.. My popular Radiation treatment Skin Treatment Set is a simple means to safely look after your skin while you undergo chemo therapies. It makes a great present for somebody you understand that is facing that difficulty as well. I give away 50% of the revenues to FORCE, the advocacy company for the hereditary bust as well as ovarian cancer cells community. It is feasible to prevent several of the discouraging effect of the grueling therapy if you are positive, and also this kit provides chemo clients one much less thing to stress over. To find out more on this topic, look into the adhering to resource utilized in this short article:. Yoon JS, Choi M, Shin CY, Paik SH, Kim KH1, Kwon O, Advancement of a Design for Chemotherapy-Induced Alopecia: Profiling of Histological Modifications in Human Hair Follicles After Chemotherapy. J Invest Dermatol. 2015 Sep 15. doi: 10.1038/ jid.2015.358. The information in the Dr. Bailey Skin Treatment web site, as well as associated links, short articles, newsletters and also blogs, is offered basic info and also academic purposes just. It is the opinion of Dr. Cynthia Bailey, or other suggested authors. Consult your medical professional or health care provider for any certain medical problems or concerns you might have. (This also puts on individuals in her clinical method; the info right here is not a replacement for, or an extension of, the healthcare she offers you.) Never overlook expert medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have actually checked out below. Use the details as well as items on this site at your own risk. Use of this website suggests your contract with these statements as well as the Conditions of DrBaileySkinCare.com. If you do not consent to all of these Terms of use, please do not utilize this website!

[sweet-star-storybook]

OC Design Talk - Episode 1: Perseus [Starglass Zodiac]

Kicking off one of the things I made this blog for: Character design talks! 

I absolutely LOVE talking about character design and the thought process that goes into all of my original characters, so I hope to make a series out of it! I’ll be talking about visual design as well as backstory and personality for the characters, and the general intent behind their concepts. Over time I’ll have links to different characters and their talks in each post, so you can go exploring if you want. :D I might make an archive page or post somewhere too for navigation purposes. I’ve got a lot of characters I want to talk about, past and present, but we’re actually starting off with a brand new one today! 

As of writing this post I just finished this design today / yesterday, but it’s already gotten so much love and I’d really like to talk more in depth about it. Plus I love how it came out anyway. ;u;

If you’d like to share this art without the talk, go to this post from my art blog.  Alright, on to the discussion! :D

Presenting: Perseus! He is one of the zodiac companions from my webcomic series, Starglass Zodiac. 

In this story, zodiac companions are essentially the “children” of the zodiac. While not all of the companions are the age of a child necessarily, they generally have less experience than the main zodiac, and thus look up to them as mentors / role models. Any of the constellations can be chosen as a companion, and it is a mutual decision, leading some to try for the position directly (like Centaurus to Sagittarius). 

Constellations in this universe go through different incarnations, and thus have varying personalities and appearances depending on whose spirit inhabits them at any given time. Every star has a set amount of energy, and every incarnation has their “time” before they eventually die, leaving behind black holes. Some are lost in deliberate usage of energy, such as in combat, while others die out naturally. As new stars are born, previous constellations have a chance to be reincarnated, and new constellations can form from these as well. There is a chance, however, that they will not return at all.

For Perseus in particular, I liked the idea of previous incarnations of the constellation being more like the character upon which it is based. Mythologically speaking, Perseus was a famous hero known for slaying monsters, similar to Hercules. With this incarnation, however, I thought it would be interesting if he actively fought against what his name is famous for. Or more specifically, used his skills in combat to fight for better things. This Percy does not fight for glory or fame, and does not possess the ego of a typical hero. But despite his change in motive, he still has to carry the burden of his “monster killer” title, as if he himself has become the monster instead. He views this as punishment for the misdeeds of the others who bared his name, ashamed of a past that wasn’t really his own.

Perseus is a companion to Aries, and the two are almost polar opposites (outside of being skilled on the battlefield), with Aries being the most volatile and aggressive between them. That said, Aries did recognize Perseus’s desire to redeem his name. Aries, being the least agreeable of the signs, has similar goals when it comes to keeping his aggression in check and upholding his role as a sign and co-protector of the Astral Plane. In his words, “if I can do it, you can too, kid.” 

From a visual standpoint, I wanted Perseus’s design to be somewhat chimerical (as in, made up of seemingly unrelated parts), but with a unifying colour scheme to tie it all together. In this case it would be different parts of monsters that, presumably, his previous incarnations had slain. Arguably Perseus’s most famous kill, Medusa, is referenced here, particularly with the snake-like elements of his skin and hair. Demon-like horns, claws, a tail, and a cat-like animal hide are also present. He likely has sharp teeth too, even if they aren’t drawn here (I will do follow-up drawings later).

Like all of the other constellation designs, his symbol (designed by these lovely folks) is incorporated into several aspects of his design. How often a symbol appears in a design can vary greatly depending on how well it can be incorporated, and sometimes its inclusion is more subtle as a result. We have a good mix of that here with Perseus, with his belt, cape and shield being the most obvious uses of the symbol, but it’s also present on his chest plate underneath the animal hide. His shield specifically is a reference to the mirrored shield that was used to turn Medusa’s glare against her. His sword exists for similar reasons, and is his weapon of choice in combat. The rest of his attire is Greek and Roman inspired, like his mythological counterpart.

I came up with the blue-yellow-pink dynamic with the colour scheme starting with his eyes, and went on to develop it from there. I knew I wanted either blue or green as a main colour, as those are common for monsters, and the brightness of the pink and yellow made for a bold colour scheme. I did try a bright orange instead of pink a few times, as that is blue’s complimentary colour, but I found the contrast was not strong enough between it and the yellow. Having a bold colour scheme matched with a quieter personality creates the kind of contrast I want in his character as a whole, implying that he is easily misunderstood by others. I also wanted the eyes to be a focal point both in the line work and the colour, so the contrast had to be striking. Admittedly I use eyes as a focal point a lot in my designs (looking at you, Cassie), but I wanted that to add to the strength of his concept rather than just be a preference of mine.

Perseus is incredibly self-conscious of his eyes, believing that his monstrous appearance will scare others merely by looking at them. This is another nod to Medusa, though Perseus can’t turn anyone to stone (much to his relief). This makes him more reserved and reclusive as a result, averting his gaze where possible and quietly keeping to his own business. Even his fighting style is very understated, favouring precision over strength. When he meets others face to face, he closes his eyes immediately, claiming they should not be seen by the faint of heart.

Functionally, Perseus’s eyes move and dilate normally, but appear slightly further apart than a more focused gaze would be, creating a more eerie stare. He may be looking at you, but he’s also looking through you. I hoped this would make him look a bit more pensive as well, and prone to staring while lost in thought.

When he meets Cassie for the first time, Perseus mistakes her for Cassiopeia* and kneels before her like a knight would to a queen.

*Cassiopeia is the mother of Andromeda, who was strapped to a rock to appease the sea monster, Cetus. True to form, Perseus rescued Andromeda by killing the creature.*

After Cassie explains that she has an unusual eye herself, Perseus finally opens his, giving in to his curiosity. He is grateful, if a little confused, for her positive reaction to them. Eventually Cassie convinces him to meet Orion, another zodiac companion. Orion, being blind, will never see Perseus, thus negating his appearance-based fears. Orion also understands Percy’s desire for redemption, being on a similar quest himself as a once-famous hunter. The two quickly become friends, with Perseus offering to “be his eyes” when needed.

Overall I’m very satisfied with the design and concept as a whole. The zodiac companions are minor characters in this story, but I’ve always like stories that have a lot of interesting characters to fill out the extended world, and the Astral Plane is perfect for that. Characters like these are also great for supplementary comics and short stories, and I’ve got some ideas for those later on. :’D

—————

And there we go, Episode 1 of my OC Design Talk is complete! :D This was super fun to write, so I hope you found it interesting. More will follow in the future too, so thanks for reading folks! <3

[littlemix-styleblog]

Little Mix Inspired Maternity Dresses

Perrie

ASOS DESIGN Maternity denim smock dress with frill in white: £30. First of all I would like to apologise massively..I could`ve done so much better with this inspired but unfortunately maternity wear is still very limiting these days despite it growing in trend. Not every brand or shop sells Maternity wear so it was hard to find a reliable, safe place where you can pick up a good bargain that is inspired by the girls, so once again please accept my apologies. So the first dress I picked up was this one was from ASOS, inspired by Perrie. When you`re pregnant you don`t want to feel frumpy or a mess you would want to feel comfortable, secure and trendy.  I would assume it would be a hot day for you so you would want to feel easy and have no stresses in life. This is a simple, modern and classic dress with sleeves to cover your arms in case it is a bit chilly or windy. You can pair this with some brown sandals, a pair of sunglasses and a nice shoulder bag.

ASOS DESIGN Maternity button through twist front maxi tea dress in seersucker: £40. This dress is inspired by a dress Perrie wore in Dubai last year, I dunno if you saw it but her dress was piratically the same colour with buttons going down the dress with short sleeves. Her dress was very classic, simple and trendy and It became a big hit with everyone within this fandom. And why not recreate this look with this dress? Piratically the same, Except her one is now out of stock now. This dress covers all of the body, So will hide the insecurities you have with your body at the moment, It may cover up everything but shows a little skin at the top and the bottom keeping the dress demure and mature. 

ASOS Queen Bee skater dress with fluted sleeve in pastel yellow: £50. I absolutely love this dress, Think this is my favourite. The simple reason I chose this dress is because of the colour. Pastels are bang on trend at the moment and a pastel lemon is perfect for the summer months. To make this dress even cuter is the sleeves, They are not to long or to short. You can definitely enjoy a lemonade and some strawberries with this dress. You can also team this dress up with sandals and a straw shoulder bag. This dress is also available in pink 

Zara TEXTURED WEAVE DRESS: £39.99. Hands up, Who knew Zara did maternity wear? I certainly didn`t and this was a surprise to me. Luckily Zara came up trumps and we got a few fabulous pieces from them including this one. As we all know Perrie`s style these days is very much boho/Chic and this ticks all of those boxes. It comes down to just below your knees and again will hide all of those features you don`t like about your body, In case theirs a chill in the air you have some sleeves to keep you warm. Not only would this be ideal for a special occasion but you can also wear this casually either on holiday or for a coffee. When you become a mum your style and body changes and most people would want to mature and tone down their image..This dress would be perfect for before baby and after baby as you are staying on trend but not looking like you just came out of a 12hr labour. 

Zara  STRIPED DRESS: £12.99. Perrie was recently seen wearing a dress very similar to this one, Unfortunately we are unable to find that one...yet. But this is much like the previous one, except this one is in the design of a shirt dress so has structure and definition to it. Again this can be worn before baby and after baby and can be worn casually as well. I`d also like to note how cheap these dresses from Zara are...What a bargain!.

Topshop  MATERNITY Button Through Midi Dress: £29. This dress is a spin off from the previous green button down dress I showed you, Except this one is more structured to your body rather than flowing. Nothing wrong with that..You do you. You`re having a baby, be proud to show off your baby bump with a gorgeous smile and beautiful body and show people this is reality. I also have another alternative to this dress without buttons here.

Jesy

ASOS DESIGN Maternity ultimate smock dress in snake print: £20. Jesy`s style was the hardest for this post, Sure there was many black dresses in the shops but none of them seemed Jesy`s style which is why we didn`t go with them. Not everyone wants to wear black during the summer months and seem like a debbie downer. But we have plenty of prints on offer including this grey snake print dress from ASOS. I know snake print is not everyones cup of tea but it is on trend at the moment and popular with everyone including pregnant ladies. This dress is the smaller version we have, But we also have it in a longer version here 

ASOS DESIGN Maternity Nursing midi dress in leopard print: £38 Again, I didn`t have much to choose from for Jesy`s style but this is the closet I could find. Again this print wouldn`t be to everyone`s taste but the dress has a lot of trends going on at the moment with the puff quarter length sleeves (Which BTW will make your arms look longer) and it`s also down to your knees so will cover any insecurities you may have.

ASOS DESIGN Maternity button through rib tea dress with puff sleeve in animal print : £28. When you`re pregnant you would want everything to be easy and stress free, That would include putting clothes on, Lifting things or going up the stairs. What you would want to be easy is feeding your little one, Which is why it`s normal for maternity dresses these days to have nursing elements to it, Such as a easy way to feed your baby when you`re out and busy, It`s simple, quick and easy without no trouble. This dress is very versatile so you can wear this before baby and after.

Leigh

ASOS DESIGN Maternity cape back dipped hem midi dress: £38. Another one of my favourites purely because of the colour. But Leigh was seen at a fashion show this year wearing a gorgeous Burberry yellow ruffle dress, So beautiful that it wasn`t even available :(. Now I`m not saying you don`t have to bend over backwards to get that dress, But what I am saying is that a lot of places do very similar identical dupes to that dress...Hand on heart i`ve seen it everywhere it`s very a very popular style this year. This dress ooozes maturity and class, the colour is pleasing to the eye and you would most certainly look like a yummy mummy. 

ASOS Mamalicious maternity shirt dress with pocket detail: £38. Leigh`s was also difficult which made my life a lot more difficult too but we eventually got their. So as of late Leigh was seen on holiday wearing a lot of citrus colours, Girl did good as it complimented her skin tone. Citrus/bold colours arent to everyone's taste and we all can`t pull it off like Leigh let`s admit that, But it`s good to experiment and change up your style every so often. I chose this dress because of that reason and because it`s another dress you can wear before and after for a casual day out. 

Topshop  MATERNITY Belted Midi Dress: £25. Again, Another one of the body fitting dresses in case you did want to go down this route. Not really sure what the belt is doing as it kind of ruins the look but will go with it. 

Dorothy Perkins Maternity Yellow Shirt Dress: £17. Basically a alternative to the green one but in yellow and because we had to fill the space in the photo. But it does everything the green dress does as well. 

Zara EMBROIDERED TUNIC WITH POCKET: £29.99 Another beautiful Zara dress on offer, This dress is the best out of the Zara lot imo. It`s very classy, demure and elegant. Another you can use before and after. If there was a dress I would say go for, it would be this one. 

Jade

New Look Maternity button front dress in red ditsy floral: £15.99. Not as of late, But recently like last year Jade has been seen wearing florals. She has a red floral playsuit and a collection of red floral dresses now. So we pushed the boat out and got this for you. This is a fun little dress with buttons coming down making it easy for you to feed. You can wear this with sandals or white trainers with a shoulder bag. 

ASOS DESIGN Maternity mini v neck button through smock dress in stripe: £22. Now the reason why I chose this dress is because Jade can sometimes be a tomboy in her style and this shouts tomboy to me and this is probably what I would wear if I was pregnant. Stripes are big at the moment so nothing wrong with being on trend. This is also a fun little dress which you can team with white trainers. 

Séraphine Bonnie Spot Maternity Dress, Black/White: £59. Now have you guessed why I chose this dress yet? Well I`ll tell you in a moment but I chose this dress because believe it or not Jade has worn white white polka dots before so it was inspired from that. This dress is a little on the pricey side but don`t forget how versatile this dress can be. The reason why I did choose this dress is because the Duchess Of Cambridge Kate Middleton wore a white polka dot maternity dress from Topshop when she was pregnant with George and everyone and I mean EVERYONE went crazy for it because it was cheap, easy to get and it fitted her so well. So if that was one reason to get the dress you got it. We also found this dress available in navy

Seraphine  Monochrome Floral Maternity & Nursing Dress: £32. I chose this dress in case you didn`t want to go for the red floral option, nothing wrong with a black floral dress. This one is a bit smaller, but that doesn`t mean you can`t have fun with it before and after baby. Pair it with sandals or white trainers and a shoulder bag. 

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[dw-writes]

Supernatural Rococo

HI GUYS IM NOT DEAD

A lot - if not ALL - of my blog is not moved over to my Wordpress! I’m still editing a few things over there, changing some titles and stuff so its a little easier to navigate and find things, but everything is there! And I’ve been writing little things. Like. This. Because Dominic Cooper literally owns my soul and Henry Sturges is a VERY gorgeous character.

Have fun with this little au original thing because I had fun writing whatever this thing is and idk what I’m doing with it.

French Rococo setting with what could be mysterious supernatural creatures in a thing that Im just writing for my own sake because I CAN and am currently using Henry as a place holder. HAVE FUN

A tea party at the Duchess’s palace was, while a normal event, also an extravagant one. Everyone wore their best, from their most stylish dresses to their largest wigs. You exchanged a glance with your sister as you both feverishly fanned your faces with carefully crafted silken fans. You had taken the time to curl and stack and pin your hair into a dangerously high pile atop your head but nothing like what you saw before you. Your curls stood out stark against the washed out whites and blondes of the company before you. Your sister, with her even darker brunette curls, stepped back.

“Should we have come?” Her voice was hidden behind her fan, which now covered half of her face.

Your eyes never left your mother as she descended into the gossiping crowd. Powder blue dress, skin just slightly too sun-kissed, with a carefully balanced wig to offset the look pinned against her skull, she almost looked like she belonged there. A woman in a soft pink dress with wide bustles at the hips turned to her and embraced her as though she had been long expected.

“It’s for mother,” you replied.

“You know they only invited her because she has money now.” Your sister’s voice had lost its whisper. Her fan dropped to her waist as she continued to fan herself. It was a soft spring green, like her dress. Brand new. Expensive. Imported.

“We have money now,” you corrected.

“Because father had money.” Your voices droned together as your thoughts became one.

You snapped your fan shut. “More reason for wealthy to feel pity for widow and her daughters.”

You walked down the small hill to the sprawling flat acre of land that the tea party took place on. Your sister followed. The modest hips on both of your dresses allowed her to slide her hand around your elbow, until you both walked side by side. She smiled as you tapped the end of your fan against the swell of her cheek.

“What would I do without you here, sister dearest?” you asked. You tried to lean your head against hers. Your towering hair prevented you from doing so.

“You would perish under the weight of societal expectations alone instead of with me.”

“I would suffer?”

“I believe I said perish.”

You made a face at her, which she must have mirrored: puckered lips as though she had sucked on a lemon, nose wrinkled and nostrils flared and eyes narrowed into slits. The make up you both wore just made the face more hysterical.

As your heels hit flat earth, it was as though you were transported out of France and somewhere new. The music finally hit your ears, rising from an ensemble nestled against the hedges. The hedges themselves towered above you and stretched for what seemed like forever. Tables had been brought outside from the palace and placed in a beautiful pattern that unfurled through a garden of flowers. The longest table ended at the fountains in the middle of the sprawling yards, which were edged with large lounging lions.

You and your sister slowed as you took in not only the sight of the garden, but the decorations – the fabrics that were carefully draped from the tops of the hedges, the vases that were filled with explosions of flowers you had never seen before, the servants in uniforms that seemed to be lined in gold – to the vast amount of people. There had to be at least two – nay three hundred people in attendance.

Wigs towered and cast their own shadows atop the heads of regal ladies. The housed ships or cages with twittering birds or formed intricate designs you had never seen before. Dresses were large and ostentatious, creating a space around a single woman that could easily fit at least four or five more inside.

The men were more clever with their degree of outrageous choices. Their heels were more shallow, though they brought walking cane out with them into the grass. Where the ladies had silken fans and gloves, some men carried parasols above their powdered heads, carefully coordinated to match their brocade coats.

And, even in the middle of the bright afternoon, everyone appeared as though they had never seen the light of day. You glanced at your sister, at her darker brown skin, and brushed some of the powder she had applied to her hair away from her cheek. Even you, considerably lighter than her, stood out amidst the sickly pallor of those in attendance.

“Are you lost?” The voice beneath the din of conversation around you made your heart leap into your throat. Your sister choked back a scream as you both turned inward, facing the owner of the voice with wide eyes.

The powder blue of his coat complimented his pale skin and dark hair. He lifted his empty hand, stepping back once he realize he had startled you both. You felt cool metal against your arm and looked down to see your sister setting her fan gently against your entwined arms. When you looked back up, you noticed the flute of champagne in his other hand. Lace looped around his wrists, brushing his fingers.

“Do we look lost?” you asked.

“We’re here with our mother,” your sister spoke over you.

You jabbed your own fan into her side.

The man smiled, a soft laugh pushing through his lips. Just barely audible. Just barely heard. The dark stubble that outlined his jaw just so caught your eye as he looked away. “Yes, you do look lost.” He balled his free hand on his hip. When he looked back, his eyes found yours.

“Just overwhelmed,” you answered breathlessly.

Your sister tugged on your arm. She started to pull you away.

“If you feel overwhelmed again.” You untwisted from your sister and turned to face him proper, finding him closer, his hand taking yours, wrapping carefully around your fingers, your fan, and bringing it up to his lips. They were soft against your knuckles. “Find Henry.” He breath was hot against your skin. His thick hair was tied at the base of his neck with a black silk ribbon. You wanted to touch it, to run your fingers through, feel if it really was a thick as it looked.

His eyes lifted to your face.

You whispered your name. Your heart took its time to beat in your chest again. “And my sister, Isabella.” 

Though his voice was absent, you felt his lips trace your name against your fingers. Henry was slow to rise. “I should let you return to being lost.” His voice was just as distant as your own. He took his time in releasing your hand and stepping away, draining his glass as he left.

You stared after him. A piece of you felt as though it was walking away, stitched into the lining of his coat, so that he may use it later. You took in a deep breath and felt it tremble in your chest. Your sister called your name and you turned to her.