#i will clean it all out i just am like good lord lmao. my desk is ALSO covered in pastels. i just did not um. think about how it would take

[volfoss]

I'm working on a faceup and using a lot of pastels to get the eyeshadow vibrant. This is definitely a struggle on grey resin but i think the funniest side effect (since I'm using the pastels for eyeshadow) is the entire inside of the head is bisexual colors instead of grey

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this 

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now 

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow. 

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend. 

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.” 

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

[dahvangogh]

EROS, LUDUS AND PRAGMA, chapter one | duncan shepherd

Author Note: don’t have much to say, i’m too awkward lmao. this is the first chapter of this fic, not very happy with how it came out but i hope you all enjoy it. i will also upload it to AO3 and maybe Wattpad (not sure about that one lmao). you can reblog, comment or leave a like, whatever you prefer. Also, i pictured Duncan wearing that amazing look he wore on episode 3 and my OC, even though i do describe it, wears this amazing look.

There is no right or wrong anymore, there is only being in or out. She knew that very well, after all her mother worked for the Madame President, a woman who all she cared about was to end up on top, no matter the consequences or who she had to bring down.

Being a reporterfor District of Columbia Post wasn’t something she had always wanted, even though she had been curious from a young age and wanted to learn everything about anything remotely interesting, she dreamed of being a famous painter. Unfortunately, growing up as a Latino American, even though it was one of the largest ethnic minorities in the US, had been hard in Washington D.C. The rich white families controlled everything, with money and connections they had the key to survival in that damned city, and she didn’t have that.

‘You better work hard, Isabella.’ her mother always told her. ‘Nothing in life is free, what you get is due to your effort.’ 

Victoria Aguilar wasn’t a weak woman. A single mother of two while also working a part-time job at a supermarket and getting her degree on International Relations at Elliott School of International Affairs. She had worked hard all her life, her very united family helping her raise her children while she studied her ass off and made a name for herself. She had been so good at her job that the one and only Claire Underwood asked her to be her personal secretary. Many years later when Claire became the Chief Executive Officer of Clean Water Initiative, her mother was there behind her. After the Underwood’s won more and more power, Victoria followed Claire wherever she went and lastly, when she became the first woman to serve as President of the United States, her mother still remained working faithfully for Claire.

So Isabella knew she needed to stop dreaming and become someone important, not to gain as much money as her mother but to earn herself a place in that city.

Isabella won many scholarships, always the first of her class and ready to help anyone in need, and ended up graduating with honors on Journalism and Mass Communication at The George Washington School of Media and Public Affairs. One of her teachers was so impressed with her hard work that he asked her to join his crew at the District of Columbia Post.Gladly she acceptedand the team worked hard to air one of the biggest scandals of 201: a Senator who had sexually assaulted three different women in the past and now participated in many orgies of different important business men. When they had found out that some of those sex workers where women from East Europe trying to earn their citizenship, women who had crossed the border of Mexico searching for a better life for them and even underage girls forced into participating in those private parties, they gathered everything they could and exposed him.

The scandal had made her an important asset to the company, her fearless journalism and diligent work gaining an excellent reputation with her coworkers, editors and boss. Now she had an small office and much support from the company.

Isabella had sleep through her alarm that Wednesday morning. Fortunately, her best friend Amanda called to remind her of their girls night out tonight and fifteen minutes later she was running out of her apartment while calling her boss. Old John just laughed at her, and being the best boss he was, he just reassured her that it was fine and to take her time to get to work.

When she stepped a foot on the elevator and clicked the sixth floor, Isabella finally felt like she could breath. Even though John had reassured her over the phone that it was fine and her other editors would probably just laugh at her for having overslept, she always felt like she couldn’t allow herself to make mistakes. The Aguilars always tried to be perfect, professional and personally.

She stared at the mirror, letting her hair down from that horrible ponytail she had done earlier and fixed her red lipstick quickly. Isabella examined her outfit, she had quickly chosen a camp-collared white blouse with short sleeves and buttoned front tucked inside a pair of high-waisted black suit pants, her favorite ankle strap black heels for work and a black blazer. At least I look good, she thought happily while adjusting her heavy working bag that hanged on her left shoulder.

Eventually the doors opened at her floor and when she crossed them, the singsong voice of her good friend made her grunt in embarrassment.

‘Morning, sleepyhead!’

Sarah Walker was a tall, blonde and athletic woman with the best humor in the world. The two girls had become close after working in many stories, they were quite close in age after all the blonde was only 4 years older, and then when they shared an office together their bond became even stronger.

Her friend sneaked an arm over her shoulders and together they walked to Isabella’s office.

‘It happens to all of us, you idiot.’ the wink the blonde gave her, exaggerated almost childlike, made her laugh out loud. ‘Remember when I had that marathon of Gossip Girl and that bottle of red wine? Lord knows how I even got to wake up before 11 am.’’

Isabella crossed her doors office and quickly sat down, resting her back on her comfortable chair and closing her eyes. Sarah smiled at the sigh that escaped her friends lips, then leaned on the table besides her and patted her shoulder.

‘Bad night, huh?’ which the brunette just nodded as an answer. ‘Elle, you know that if you need to talk about anything, even about the weather or how you took a shit this morning, I’m here. You know that, right?’’

The brunette laughed and nodded again, patting the hand of her friend as a thank you for the comfort. She rose from her chair, unbuttoned the blazer and walked to her coat stand beside the only window of the room.

‘Girl, your ass looks bomb on those pants!’ Sarah squealed cheekily making her blush instantly. ‘Between having those big tits and that ass, I’m about to start considering murdering you and illegally transplanting them to me.’

She laughed out loud at the craziness of the blond, sat on her chair again and then removed her laptop from her working bag, placing it on her desk and opening the lid.

‘Miss Frankenstein, please leave my office immediately or I will call the SWATS.’ the brunette signaled her door while funnily pursing her lips, voice mockingly stern.

‘Oh! Maybe those lips too!’ her friend answered while walking backwards to the door. ’So thick and big, Kyle Jenner wishes!’

‘Fuck off already!’

Their loud laughs always behind their words, Sarah bidded goodbye for now with a wink and then disappeared towards the left side of the hallway towards her own office. Then when she was alone, Isabella started her laptop and took her notes out of her bag, scattering them on her desk.

She started reading and typing quickly.

‘’You sure about that?’’ she asked to Chad on the phone while crossing the steps back to her office.

An hour and half from her arrival she couldn’t stand another second without caffeine, her sleepless night fucking her routine and making her almost fall asleep on her desk. So she rose from her chair, went to their office kitchen and made herself a big black cup of coffee.

Then Chad King, another journalist and good coworker, called her. While she carried her cup of coffee in one hand, the other was busy holding her phone to her ear. Their team was going after another Congressman, they did that a lot, who they suspected had committed tax fraud and was covering it with bribes.

‘I just talked with his ex-wife… she obviously wants to speak up for a good sum of money, you know how this housewives are but I think we can find other sources.’’

‘We have his former secretary and the testimonies of other employee, so I don’t think the ex-wife is necessary in this.’ She smiled at John when passing by his office, the old man smiling in return at her. ‘Now we have many information so we need to sort it out and build this in a…’

Isabella pushed her door open with her bum and when she turned around to get inside his office, the sight that greeted her made her stop on her tracks. A young handsome man, no older than thirty, was standing in the middle of her office as if he owned the goddamn place. It seemed he had been looking at the painting she had hanged over in the main wall, behind her big desk, with some sort of contemplation but when she stepped a foot inside the room his undivided attention was fully upon her.

She tried to not gasp when he fully turned around towards her, for he was of extraordinary beauty. Tall, much taller than her which wasn’t something unusual, with beautiful brown locks and a chiseled face covered in stubble.

Black leather jacket with black jeans and nice shoes, he reminded her of those heartthrobs she found extremely attractive in movies. Isabella was passionate about classical art and she could swear his face had been crafted by Michelangelo himself. That nose, neither big or small, with those gorgeous lips and that strong jaw. He was asymmetrically perfect, her finger tingled from the need to sketch his face

‘Isabella? Are you there?’ Chad voice never had sounded more annoying that in that moment over the phone. ‘Hello?’

She blinked and closed the gap between her desk and her, quickly resting her coffee near her laptop.

‘Yes, sorry Chad...’ hurriedly she answered his coworker. ‘Something came up here, I will call you later.’

‘Okay, I will get a coffee and review some of the files. Talk later!’

The conversation ended and she left her phone next to her coffee, awkwardly staying there looking at him. Funnily, he did the same. He was just staring at her with those gorgeous blue eyes while a small smirk graced his lips.

‘Starry Night Over the Rhone by Vincent Van Gogh, huh’ his deep voice broke the silence.

Isabella raised her eyebrows surprised and peeked at the painting behind her, a soft smile appearing then.

‘Unfortunately most people only know about the Starry Night and not this one, but I find it even more breathtaking than any he has done.’ her voice full of admiration for the artist. She joined her hands in a soft clap. ‘Anyways, what can I help you with Mr…?’

He stood proudly, his smirk grew bigger while his eyes shined.

‘Duncan Shepherd’ he extended his hand and she clasped it in greeting. She tried not to show a reaction to that surname, because thanks to her mother she had heard many things about the family, and just smiled kindly.

‘Isabella Aguilar’

‘I know. May I?’ he then gracefully signaled the chair in front of her desk, asking for permission to take a sit.

She raised one of her eyebrows surprised but quickly tried to mask her surprised as good as possible.

‘Please.’

He sat as she did the same on her chair, the desk a big barrier between them which made her feel less anxious about having a handsome stranger who embodied more confidence and grace than she would ever do in her life.

‘I’m here to talk about a column published this past Wednesday.’

The woman just pressed her full lips for a brief second before smiling awkwardly at him.

‘Well, I think you should have this conversation with one of the chief editors or maybe the CEO.’ she joined her hands in front of her. ‘Even though I’m an editor, I’m also a journalist and I don’t have any say about those matters. I could call my boss if you want and…’

‘That won’t be necessary, Miss Aguilar.’ he elegantly crossed his legs while also joining his hands around his right knee, his black jeans tightening around his thighs. She tried not to bit her lips at the sight. ‘I came to see you, your boss won’t be necessary in this conversation.’

Mierda, he is fucking handsome.

She just raised her eyebrows again and tried to appear as confident as possible, for Duncan was intimidating in the way he carried himself. His confidence, elegance and graciousness made him look like he owned the fucking place. And it was her office, she should be the one feeling confident and not him.

‘As I was saying, this past Wednesday a column of this newspaper talked about my family’s dealings with ex-congressman Andrew Bernard, I believe you know who he is.’ she nodded, a few months ago her colleagues and her had uncovered how that congressman had been committing tax fraud while also bribing people to cover many dealings he did with different cartels. ‘And as you can understand, those accusations might damage our image to the public. So I came here to suggest that you might consider telling your coworker to do another refuting that information.’

What in the…?

‘Again Mr. Shepherd, I believe there is a misunderstanding here.’ she couldn’t contain the smile that graced her lips while she leaned back on her chair. ‘If you want to talk about that then you should do it with whomever wrote it. I don’t have anything to do with it.’’

‘Oh, really?’ the sarcasm was clear on his voice.

She just nodded back.

‘That’s funny, you know?’ he leaned closer to the desk, licking his lips quickly. She tried not to stare at them. ‘Because I know who your mother is, who she works for and how much it would help her owner..’

Isabella briskly sat straight on her chair surprised at those nasty words, quickly interrupting the pompous asshole.

‘Her owner?’ she almost spat those words back, the color on her cheeks a bit more pink than before. ‘My mother doesn’t have an owner, she is not a pet, and I would kindly ask you to take those words back or…’

He had the nerve to look slightly surprised at her outburst.

‘Pardon my bluntness, but I’ve seen how she runs after the Madame president and she really is the perfect embodiment of a lapdog. ’ he now leaned back, clearly satisfied with his words, nonchalantly gesturing while speaking. ‘That’s why I’m sure that thatinformation was handed to you by her and then you did the same with the columnist. As you probably know already, Underwood is not on good terms with my family and would love to destroy our image.’

The brunette just laughed out loud at how surreal the situation was, quickly trying to cover her mouth with her right hand. Duncan just raised an eyebrow, not understanding what was funny in what he had said.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m…’ she tried to control her smile, positioning both her hands at the desk. ‘Duncan, rest assured that I have nothing to do with the column. I don’t work for my mother and she has never influenced any of my work, not now not ever.’

He opened his mouth to reply back but she raised her hand to stop him, a mockingly smile now gracing her lips, while she leaned as close to him as the desk allowed it.

‘But if your family doesn’t want to tarnish their lovely reputation, then they should stop doing dealings with those kinds of people.’ her smile grew even wider. ‘I’m not gonna lie, Duncan. I’ve heard many things about your family, and if some of them came out, the least of your problems would be the reputation bit. Right?’

Duncan leaned closer, his smile dangerously ferocious while his eyes shined with wonder. They both stared at each other, a clear battle of how-would-look-away-first and dominance. Isabella raised her eyebrows and he answered the gesture with a soft smile, making her take a peek at those full lips of his. She tried not to gasp at the sudden pang in her chest, or how her tummy felt weird.

Good Lord, why is he so fucking attractive?

Quickly she rose from her place as he leaned back on the chair. Isabella placed her hands at both sides of her hips and raised her chip up, she was sure she looked like the embodiment of a woman in control. She actually wasn’t. Her fingertips tingled with the need to draw him while she felt warmth bloom down there.

He just stared at her from where he sat, a weird look on his face that made her even more uneasy than she had been seconds ago. His face didn’t give anything away.

Why is he staring at me like that?

‘So, having set things straight, I will kindly ask you to leave for I have work to do.’ she tried sound nonchalant, voice clear without stuttering like a teenager with a new crush, and smiled politely. ‘I believe you know where the door is?’

Duncan tried to suppress a smile, quickly licking his lips while standing up, and reached for her cup of coffee that rested forgotten next to her laptop.

‘You should warm that up, it has ran cold.’ his smirk made her wiggle her toes, almost as if they had been hit with electricity, something she did when she was feeling nervous. Then leaned back with his hands placed behind his back.

He approached the door slowly, or so she thought, opening the door completely for it had been ajar since before when she had come inside the room. When he had set a foot on the threshold, he looked over his shoulder and stared at her.

‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Isabella.’

And with a nod, he just walked out of there.

The girl just stared at the empty space of the door where he had been standing seconds ago, almost dumbfounded or in a weird trance. She probably stood there like a fool for a few minutes until she blinked too many times and finally came back from it.

Isabella quickly went to the door and closed it, then turned around and went to her working bag, fishing out her sketch book and placing it in front of her on the desk. She should have went back to her work, calling Chad back and doing the outline of the headline they should submit to John later that morning.

She should have done all of that.

But she didn’t.

[chickenfetus]

HI!!! i like to request ALL of the flowery asks! btw i LOVE ur blog and maybe u????? idk 🌸🌸 (jk i love u alot)

who is this????????/ under cut bc i get rambly 

azalea: what’s one word that describes you?

lame lmao

baby’s breath: what did you want to be when you were a kid?

honestly? my answer’s like yours jen because i wanted to be an astronaut but also a vet and then a few years later i wanted to be something else of a whole different profession but now i know what reality is like and i have no clue what i wanna be whoops

begonia: are you a messy or clean person?

i hate seeing my desk/workspace be messy but i cant bring myself to clean it up either???? bc im lazy 

bleeding heart: has your heart ever been broken?

hMMMMm mmm idk i dont think so

bluebell: do you drink tea or coffee?

i drink tea more than i drink coffee but i drink water more than i drink tea i drink water like. everyday lmao obviously but i drink a lot of water its my brand now

buttercup: what are five things that make you apologetically happy?

what does this mean why is the word apologetically there i cancelled it lmao no negativity in this house

my favorite people (u know who + my friends)

when people answer my anon asks and . they respond with a long reply/seem really happy responding thats my fav fam

this is getting real anime but when i get an UR/4* from scouting 

finding an anime/manga/book that perfectly suits my taste

im very tempted to just say water bc idk what else 2 say 

calla: what’s your favorite book?

ive only read 3 whole books this year but i recommend all of them 

challenger deep - neal shusterman (i could go on about this book for days honestly its so interesting and even though its told by the same person it has two kind of perspectives because there are two settings, that didnt make sense but this book is my new favorite)

see you in the cosmos - jack cheng (i love this one too because its just so warm? made me a little emo but its really good and i love how unique it is, text type wise)

a monster calls - patrick ness (this was something i heard from my school first so i didnt know if i really wanted to get it but its actually pretty good?) 

carnation: what are your five most played songs?

i cant really check using the music app bc i added the songs at different timings so itll be inaccurate ill just do most played song from each band/group

again - astro (this is their best song dont @ me)

letting go - day6

all in/stuck - monsta x

death by a strawberry - dance gavin dance

check yes juliet - we the kings

chrysanthemum: what are you afraid of?

i may not b a child but im still afraid of the dark bc my imagination is wild im also afraid of bugs and disappointing others nice oh shit im also afraid of asking for things

daffodil: what’s your astrological sign?

capricorn 

dahlia: what’s your favorite band?

this question was made for me its day6

daisy: which ‘friends’ character do you relate to the most?

ive never watched friends 

dandelion: are you an extrovert or an introvert?

in between!!!!!

geranium: how has your day been?

its been good!!! i managed to ask my mum 2 take me to hair place so i can get it cut finally and im working on updating my tumblr pages and doing all my tags

hydrangea: what’s your dream job?

pass

iris: who’s your celebrity crush?

pass

lavender: what’s one of the best gifts you’ve ever received?

oH FUCK FAM my friends got me a kermit toy for my birthday i lvoe it 2 dEATH

lily: what’s something you’ve achieved that you’re really proud of?

i got first in my class once wow amazing that was 2 years ago i wish i was as good as the me from 2 years ago 

marigold: what would you like to do more of, but don’t ?

well i want 2 b more hardworking but guess thats too late

morning glory: are you an early bird or a night owl?

now that school is over and i have no reason to wake up early ive become neither which is saddening because... i like waking up at 7am on weekends and doing things early but now i wake up at like 9-10am and i still sleep at 11pm  

orchid: what’s the last movie you saw?

i really dont remember?? maybe uh guardians of the galaxy?? i dont remember who i watched it with and when but it was good actually i remember who i watched it with nvm 

pansy: do you believe in love at first sight?

i dont really believe in romantic love anymore 

peony: what does your url mean?

chicken fetus means an egg

periwinkle: what are you thankful for?

god get ready folks im gonna go on my biggest boxy rant ever...

so boxy is my friend who ive been mutuals for over a year and our first common interest is love live and haikyuu so we had that to talk about but im bad at keeping conversations with ppl on tumblr so that ended quickly but earlier this year or late last year i made a twitter and told people on here about it and she followed me and i didnt really mind/pay attention to the stuff she posted/rted uNTIL. until that fateful day... june 25th... at like 8pm? she rted a pic of mister brian kang with dumb minion glasses on and ok maybe i do believe in love at first sight? bc wow!!!!! whos this dumbass with minion glasses and the fluffiest hair ??? so i slide into boxy’s dm.. expecting an explanation and she gives me a good one saying how brians from a band (i would later find out), day6 and im not a fan of kpop, never have been.. ive only watched like some kpop mvs bc i love my friends so i expect myself to listen to them and get over them as soon as im done. boxy my friend, bless HER she sends me all of their mvs from congratulations to i smile and i watch the first one - i smile and me? i start smiling and i can feel myself getting excited because holy fuck theyre a band! they play fucking instruments??? and at this point im already whipped then i move onto how can i say and that shit blew my mind let me tell you.. so because of boxy... i get to where i am now, proudly stanning 3 groups and if it were not for her i wouldve never gotten into mx as well... boxy is just?? really important to me her impact is just that great?? so im super!! sUPER thankful for her and i dont think she’ll ever see this but boxy i love u thank u so much!! boxy gave me more than one reason to live, and not just exist?? without her i wouldve never been able to make so many (like 2 but hEY) new friends and this probably got so long idk im just really thankful for boxy thank u lord for blessing us with boxy (@/youngkwhom on twitter) (kittenma on tumblr) i hope shes happy forever and i also hope she has good days for the rest of her life?? boxy deserves it i lvoe u boxy

petunia: where were you ten years ago?

10 years ago i was like 6 probably watching pokemon or some shit and getting glasses

poinsettia: where would you like to be in ten years?

dead thanks

poppy: what’s your online persona?

i dont understad the meaning of persona but an egg?????? 

rose: who’s the last person you spent quality time with?

all my classmates in an exam hall for 2 hours, quality time indeed

snapdragon: what are your goals?

pass

sunflower: what’s your favorite quote?

i think i had one before but i forgot so maybe it wasnt my favourite lol idk i dont have one now

tulip: if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?

for all of my favourite people to be happy forever

a good future

i want astro, mx and day6 to get an award for all of their hardwork thanks

violet: what’s one thing most people don’t know about you?

i was gonna say smth negative but lets not hm m m i? ?? ill put smth irl ppl probably dont know either uh hhh i guess?? that i eat a lot?? but also get full really quickly but then really hungry right after that idk thanks digestion

zinnia: do you believe in magic?

no ????/ idk is there any evidence that magic exists 

JEN !!! thank u so much for asking even tho u probably asked just to get back at me but this was still fun ask memes will never get boring bro,. i love u and i hope u have a good evening also i love ur blog too moon anon probably already told u

to anyone who actually bothered reading through this mess - thank you and i hope you have a good day/night too!!