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Owen

Prince Owain of Scotland
Age: 22 y/o
Orientation: Gay
Attends: Cambridge
Studies: International PoliSci

Alistair's Older Brother

Max

Prince Maximilian of Bavaria
Age: 21 y/o
Orientation: Gay
Attends: Cambridge
Studies: International Finance

Cousin of Owen, Alistair & Luis

Alistair

Prince Alistair of Scotland
Age: 20 y/o
Orientation: Fluid
Attends: Harvard
Studies: International Law

Owen's Younger Brother

Luis

Prince Luis of Spain
Age: 18 y/o
Orientation: Fluid
Attends: Complutense U Madrid
Studies: Computer Science

Cousin of Owen, Alistair & Max

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The Sunroom Heir … In the late glow of summer, Leo sat in the sun-drenched armchair his grandmother once called her “reading throne.” The old manor had been empty for years, but Leo returned every July, letting the quiet house wrap around him like a faded memory.He wasn’t supposed to be here yet. Graduation was months away. His future—a glittering promise of city lights and endless ambition—felt distant now. Here, stripped down to nothing but his old cut-offs, he could breathe. No expectations. No cameras. Just the warmth of the late afternoon sun pressing against his skin.Leo’s fingers brushed the worn fabric of the chair, the same place he used to curl up with dusty novels as a boy. Now, muscles stretched and lean, he lounged like a king without a kingdom, golden skin kissed by the light streaming through the tall windows.He didn’t know what came next—only that for this moment, in this house, he belonged entirely to himself.
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The Sunroom Heir … In the late glow of summer, Leo sat in the sun-drenched...

Bond Beyond Words … In the dense silence of the early morning woods, where pine needles cushioned every footstep and the air still carried the chill of night, Elias knelt beside the only creature who truly understood him—Kai, the pale-furred wolfdog with piercing blue eyes that mirrored his own.They had found each other in the aftermath of separate losses. Elias, reeling from the sudden death of his brother, had fled the noise of the world and the hollow condolences that came with it. Kai, abandoned as a pup on the edge of the forest, had grown wild but never cruel. Their first meeting was wary. Their second, fate. By the third, Elias had stopped thinking of Kai as just a wolf—he was something more. A guardian. A soul echo.Now, shirtless and sun-kissed, Elias pressed his cheek gently to Kai’s fur, the texture coarse but grounding. In moments like these, he didn’t need to speak. Grief didn’t require language. Nor did healing.The world might never understand their bond, but the forest did. The trees stood watch. The wind whispered in reverence. And Elias knew, no matter where the path led from here, he’d never walk it alone again.#fantasy #hotguys #wolf
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Bond Beyond Words … In the dense silence of the early morning woods, where pine...

Saturday Morning … The light woke me before anything else. Warm against my face, slanting through the blinds in soft, perfect lines. I didn’t open my eyes at first. Just breathed in the quiet and let the stillness wrap around me.No alarms. No voices. No expectations.Just morning.Eventually, I sat up. Let the sheet fall where it wanted. My body still carried sleep in the muscles, but there was no rush to move. I liked the way the air felt against my skin — cool in places the sun hadn’t touched yet. I liked the weight of silence in the room. Not empty, just… still.I used to hate mornings. Always felt like I had to be somewhere, do something, prove something. But not today. Today, I let myself exist without needing a reason. Just me, the quiet, and the light. That was enough.I glanced at the window, caught my own reflection in the glass — barely there, soft and uncertain. I looked different. Not styled or posed. Just real. There was something honest in that. Something I don’t always let myself be.I sat like that for a long time. Breathing. Thinking. Not about anything heavy. Just letting thoughts drift in and out like clouds.Maybe that’s all I needed from today. Not plans. Not people. Just one morning to be still. To feel the light on my skin and remember that I’m here. That I exist outside of noise.It’s Saturday.And for once, that feels like enough.#weekend #saturday #hotguys #gay
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Saturday Morning … The light woke me before anything else. Warm against my face, slanting...

Matching Swim Suits … It was the first real day of summer.Luca, Nico, and Adrian had planned this trip for months, just the three of them, one last escape before college sent them spiraling in different directions. They arrived at the villa by noon, tossing their bags aside and heading straight to the infinity pool that glistened like liquid sapphire under the afternoon sun.“Okay, admit it,” Nico said, adjusting his palm-leaf trunks. “The matching suits were a great idea.”Luca rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “You mean your idea.”“Our idea,” Adrian chimed in from the water, splashing them both. “Now come on, we’re wasting sun.”They’d been best friends since they can remember, inseparable, like a constellation only complete with all three stars. But lately, change loomed. Nico had been accepted to a university on the East Coast. Adrian was joining a surf program in Australia. Luca, staying behind, had enrolled at a local school, the weight of expectations pulling him back home.So this trip wasn’t just a getaway. It was a pause button. A way to breathe.They spent the afternoon swimming, laughing, tackling each other off floaties, and taking photos that would end up in their private shared album titled “For When It Gets Hard.” The sun dipped low, painting their skin gold and setting the water ablaze with light.Later, as they dried off on the pool deck, Luca looked at the others and said, “Promise me we’ll come back. No matter what changes. This place. Us.”Adrian gave a mock salute. “Cross my heart and sunscreened chest.”Nico leaned in, arm slung over both their shoulders. “Promise. Even if we’re thousands of miles apart, we’ll find our way back. Always.”Their matching trunks—stamped with tropical leaves felt like more than fabric. They were a symbol of this moment: fleeting, bold, and beautiful.Three friends. One summer. A memory that would hold them together, long after the sun set.#summer #vacation #losangeles #summerbreak
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Matching Swim Suits … It was the first real day of summer. Luca, Nico, and...

Poolside Ginger … It was late afternoon, the kind of hour when the sky turns a little honey-gold and the heat settles into the concrete like a secret.Micah sat at the edge of the pool, feet in the water, hands curled loosely between his knees. His copper hair was still damp, curling faintly where the sun hadn’t dried it yet. Neon blue trunks clung to him like they were painted on, and a bead of sweat traced a slow line from his collarbone down between his abs.He looked relaxed, but there was tension in the air.A door slid open behind him. The quiet pad of bare feet on tile. Micah didn’t turn. He just dipped his fingers into the water, then flicked a single droplet over his shoulder.“Thought you said you’d stay inside,” he murmured, without looking.“I lied,” said Drew. His voice was low, amused. “Didn’t think you’d actually be out here… looking like that.”Micah finally glanced over his shoulder. “Like what?”Drew didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.The silence stretched between them, the kind that carries weight. Micah smirked faintly and shifted his legs, spreading them just enough to be noticed. He leaned back on one hand, spine curving slightly, heat glinting off the angles of his chest.“You keep staring,” he said. “You’re gonna have to get in.”Drew kicked off his slides, letting them slap to the concrete. “That a threat?”Micah looked up at him, bold and teasing. “It’s a dare.”
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Poolside Ginger … It was late afternoon, the kind of hour when the sky turns...

Poolside Blond … The sun had just crested noon, spilling golden heat across the backyard. The pool shimmered like glass, and the only sound was the occasional flick of water against tile.Luca leaned back on his palms, wet skin catching the light, his blue trunks clinging just a little tighter than usual. He didn’t mind. He liked the way eyes followed him — especially his eyes.Somewhere behind the sliding glass door, Eli was watching. He always pretended not to be. Pretended the “accidental” glances didn’t linger. But Luca knew. Had seen the way Eli paused, fingers tightening on his cold drink, eyes roaming like they were starving.Today, Luca decided to give him a better view.He shifted slightly, letting one knee fall open, arching his back just enough to stretch out the lines of his stomach. The sun warmed every inch of his bare skin. He looked straight at the glass door, then licked a droplet of water from his bottom lip. A tease. A dare.The door slid open with a quiet hush. Footsteps padded across the concrete.“You’re going to give the neighbors a show,” Eli murmured, towel draped casually over his shoulder, eyes dark.Luca smirked. “Only if they’re paying attention.”Eli dropped the towel beside him and knelt at the edge, fingers grazing Luca’s thigh, slow, like heat on skin.“I was,” he said, voice low. “Every second.”#westhollywood #losangeles #summer #poolside
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Poolside Blond … The sun had just crested noon, spilling golden heat across the backyard....

On The Ship … The sun scorches the deck of the USS Lexington. Dylan leans against the railing, shirtless, dog tags clinking against his chest, sweat drying in the breeze.Bootsteps approach. Marcus Rivera — bare-chested, camo pants low on his hips, cap turned back — stops beside him.“Didn’t think you’d brave the heat,” Marcus says.“I like the view.”Marcus smirks. “You mean me?”Dylan shrugs. “Only when you’re not talking.”They stand in silence, the ocean stretching forever. The tension, as always, hums just under the surface.“You’ll burn out here,” Marcus murmurs.“You offering shade?”“I’m offering five minutes in my rack.”Dylan looks at him. “You sure you’ll make drills?”Marcus grins. “Always do.”Dylan pushes off the rail. “Lead the way.”Marcus turns, and Dylan follows.
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On The Ship … The sun scorches the deck of the USS Lexington. Dylan leans...

Remember Why We Celebrate July 4 in the USA 🇺🇸Independence Day isn’t just about fireworks and cookouts, it’s a reminder of what it took to get here. On July 4, 1776, a group of ordinary people made an extraordinary decision: to stand up against oppression and tyranny in pursuit of freedom. They risked everything to claim a future shaped by liberty, not fear.Today, we celebrate because they fought. We enjoy freedom because they refused to be silenced. And as we look around at the challenges of our own time, where voices are still being suppressed and rights debated, we’re reminded that the fight for liberty is never over.This holiday calls us not only to remember our history, but to live up to it. To stay alert, stay engaged, and never take freedom for granted.#july4 #independenceday #fourthofjuly #usa #🇺🇸
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Remember Why We Celebrate July 4 in the USA 🇺🇸 Independence Day isn’t just about...

Red Hat, Red Shorts, Red Hair … He showed up late to the group—quiet, sun-kissed, and not trying to impress anyone. Backwards red cap. Low-slung swim trunks. That barely-there smirk like he already knew half the beach was watching.He didn’t say much, just dropped his towel in the sand, kicked off his slides, and sat like that—legs open, skin glowing, staring out at the water like he was daring it to come closer.We found out later he was from Georgia. Grew up on a lake. Said saltwater still felt like a luxury, even now. Said he liked the way it left a taste on your skin.I asked if he wanted to join the others for drinks at the bar. He said, “I’m good right here.” Then he looked me dead in the eye and added, “You can stay though, if you want.”I stayed.We talked about nothing—just let the sun settle on our shoulders. Every now and then, he’d shift his weight and I’d catch a hint of something under the surface. A scar near his ribs. A quiet restlessness in the way he stretched. That tension some boys carry when they’ve only just started to feel safe.But mostly, he was calm. Like the beach itself had slowed his heartbeat.He wasn’t there to perform. He wasn’t there to prove anything.He was just there. Red hat. Red shorts. Red hair. And yeah—he was unforgettable.
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Red Hat, Red Shorts, Red Hair … He showed up late to the group—quiet, sun-kissed,...

Visit Me on the Web 😈 Haven’t checked in lately? There’s a whole spread of new AI content waiting for you on the HotGuysAI site.🔥 July promos = filthy fun for next to nothing. 👅 You will want seconds.Link in bio.#HotGuysAI #AIMen #SpicyAI #NSFWContent #JulyDeals #AIOnlyFans
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Visit Me on the Web 😈 Haven’t checked in lately? There’s a whole spread of...

🏳️‍🌈 Happy Pride! As we head into the final official weekend of Pride Month, I hope everyone had a chance to celebrate in whatever way felt right for them — whether that meant dancing in the streets, reflecting quietly, or simply showing up as yourself.Remember: Pride isn’t just a month. It’s a mindset, a movement, and a commitment to stand up for ourselves and each other as the world continues to shift around us.We are a strong, vibrant, and resilient community — and we’ve got this. 💪🏽🌈💖#Pride #LGBTQIA #Community #LoveIsLove
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🏳️‍🌈 Happy Pride! As we head into the final official weekend of Pride Month, I...

MidJourney … it’s interesting looking back at images I created nearly two years ago with MidJourney. AI image creation tools were just getting started and they still didn’t have web interfaces to interact with the tools. For MidJourney you had to use Discord. It’s amazing how fast the technology has developed and how fast it continues to advance. AI image and video creation is now available to almost everyone to use with simple tools and chat prompts through a browser or mobile app. I do feel like the AI image space is over saturated with creators right now so I’m interested in watching where it goes over the next few years.
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MidJourney … it’s interesting looking back at images I created nearly two years ago with...

Tattoos … It’s late in the afternoon, the heat clings to the pavement like breath that won’t let go. In the back alley behind the bar, a group of guys stands shirtless, denim hanging low on their hips, the occasional belt buckle catching the light.They don’t say much. There’s no need.Their bodies speak instead — marked and mapped, skin stretched tight over stories no one tells. Some lean against the wall, arms crossed, shoulders loose. Others sit on overturned crates or crouch near the curb, barefoot or in scuffed boots.They move with the ease of people who know each other well, who’ve seen the worst and never turned away. There’s tension in some of them, quiet in others. A kind of charged calm, like they’ve all just come down from something or are about to start something again.One laughs, head thrown back. Another lights a cigarette, not because he needs it, but because it gives his hands something to do. Someone spits, someone stretches, someone else watches the sky like it owes him an answer.They’re not trying to be anything. They just are — bare-chested and breathing, the kind of beautiful that doesn’t need mirrors. Bruised knuckles. Sunburned shoulders. Sweat drying in the Santa Monica air.They stand like this for a long time.Not waiting. Just existing.Together, for now.
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Tattoos … It’s late in the afternoon, the heat clings to the pavement like breath...

Perfect Form … Everyone at Halden University knew who Elias Moreau was.He was the star of the swim team, lean build, strong jaw, tousled hair that never stayed down even when wet. His freestyle was effortless, his starts silent and deadly. Coaches watched. Teammates chased. No one caught him.But it wasn’t just the speed.Elias wore glasses.Not the trendy kind, actual prescription, round lenses he pushed up during lectures on cognitive science or theoretical math. He double-majored. Sat front row. Took notes in immaculate handwriting. Always had a book in his bag and a calm, unreadable expression that made people lean in just to hear him speak.There was something about him, cool without trying, confident without the performance. The kind of guy who’d ace a final and still offer to help someone study after practice.People whispered. “He’s got it all.”But Elias never played to the crowd. He trained early, studied late, moved through campus like someone with nothing to prove. He smiled rarely, but when he did, it landed. Precise. Disarming.Perfection wasn’t what he aimed for. Control was. Balance.In the water, in the classroom, in life, he moved with intention. Like everything was connected. Like he understood the formula behind it all and chose, every day, not to flaunt it.He didn’t need to. He was already living it.
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Perfect Form … Everyone at Halden University knew who Elias Moreau was. He was the...

Twenty Frames … They stood at the edge of the beach, one by one, hoodies pulled close against the wind. No names. No instructions. Just: “Stand how you feel.”Some faced the camera head-on. Some looked away. Arms crossed, hands in pockets, sleeves pulled over fingers. A few smiled. Most didn’t.Each photo told its own quiet truth.Same backdrop. Same light. But each frame was different—posture, stillness, the way the wind caught the fabric.Twenty portraits. No captions. Just boys, alone for a moment, together in memory.Later, the photos were hung in the hallway, side by side.A gallery of silence. A record of who they were, if only for that afternoon.
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Twenty Frames … They stood at the edge of the beach, one by one, hoodies...

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