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Moechu presents... Bow pngs! ~ do not credit me!

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pngs I used for a discord prof !! hip hip hoora !

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Daughter of a Legend | Lando Norris

Lando meets the daughter of Formula One's greatest legend

Sorry everyone, but there was no way I could let you choose the name on this one.

Everything about Ayrton is true, Disney, the car, what Adriane thought.

Viviane Galisteu Senna — Vivi, to the lucky few—entered the world only a handful of months after that fateful first of May. Her hair, the color of sun-kissed sand, was Adriane’s through and through, as were the generous smile and warm, bronzed skin. But the eyes—those deep, espresso-dark eyes — were pure Ayrton. They reflected everything around her and, more importantly, everything within: kindness, determination, a stubborn refusal to look away when someone needed help.

Vivi had grown up well outside the camera flashes. She nursed a quiet, slow-brewing resentment for Formula One, the sport that hoisted her father onto a pedestal and then snatched him away. Strangers still approached her with reverence shining in their faces. “Your dad was the greatest driver who ever lived.” Vivi would smile—small, practiced, polite—and swallow the rest of the sentence she wanted to say.

She knew the legend, of course. Everyone did. Brazil’s unbeatable hero, Ayrton Senna. But Vivi also knew the backstage version—soft-spoken stories her mother shared in the half-light of their living room. Their apartment was a museum of love: a McLaren helmet in the hallway, the little Fiat Uno with the lovingly Brazilian vanity plate DR I (for “Dri”) tucked in the garage, ticket stubs and photographs everywhere. Yet the same memories carried warnings in their margins.

“No one loved racing like your father,” Adriane would murmur, tracing the outline of his grin in a photograph. “He gave his whole life to those cars. He wouldn’t even take a day to visit Disney—said it would steal training time.” The words landed like gravel in Vivi’s heart. Her father had lived for speed, and speed had taken him apart in a race that should never have happened.

That story defined her childhood. Adriane had just learned she was pregnant and told Ayrton—his joy nearly burst through the telephone lines. Hours later, the phone rang again. Brazil fell silent. Ayrton Senna was gone.

Six months afterward, Vivi arrived—no father, but a name he’d chosen himself: Viviane, in honor of his eldest sister, founder of the Ayrton Senna Institute and creator of Senninha, the cartoon boy who taught Brazilian kids to dream.

Engines made Vivi’s skin prickle for years; she’d change channels the instant she heard them. Yet today—thirty years since Imola—she stood in the paddock at Interlagos. This wasn’t about her hurt feelings. It was about him. And if Ayrton had taught the world anything, it was to keep driving forward.

•••

“Mate,” Lando whispered, jabbing Charles in the ribs while Charles chatted with Alexandra. “Tell me I’m hallucinating, or is that Senna’s daughter?”

Charles tilted his head, sunglasses glinting. “Looks like her.”

“She’s stunning—exactly like her mum,” Alexandra said, all effortless cool.

“Remind me who her mum is?” Lando asked, eyes still glued to Vivi.

“Adriane Galisteu. Super-model status, Brazilian icon.”

“I cannot believe she’s actually here,” Lando breathed. “She’s practically mythological—never shows up, never does interviews.”

“Probably here for the tribute,” Charles reminded him. “Hamilton’s taking the MP4/8 out for a lap. Big anniversary.”

“Right.” Lando nodded, brain clearly screaming focus, heart equally clearly ignoring the directive.

Alexandra snorted. “You’re practically drooling, Norris. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? She’s Senna’s daughter. If Ayrton was the god of Formula One, that makes her, what, a demigoddess? I’m mortal at best.”

“Bring offerings,” Charles deadpanned. “Maybe a double espresso and a smile.”

Lando swallowed. He could handle 300 kilometers per hour and wheel-to-wheel combat, but apparently not a single conversation-speed approach to a girl with legendary eyes.

Still, every great race started on the grid. And Vivi—demigoddess or not—had just wandered into his pit lane.

•••

Vivi hadn't meant to sit down. Not really.

She had arrived at the paddock out of obligation—at least, that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t here for nostalgia. She wasn’t here for closure. She was here because someone had to remember her father as more than a highlight reel and a pitlane ghost. Someone who loved him had to be present.

So she sat, almost defiantly, in the corner of McLaren’s garage. Not drawing attention, but not exactly hiding either. The helmet—his helmet—rested in her lap, the colors still bold despite the passing of decades. Red, yellow, green. A symbol, a relic. A memory.

She stared out toward the track, half-lost in thought, half-holding herself together. Until a familiar voice cut through the buzz of the paddock.

“…and we’ll tweak the rear suspension, but otherwise it felt good,” Lando was saying, casually, like it was any other day. His engineer nodded, distracted. But Lando’s words trailed off when his eyes landed on her.

He froze.

There was no mistaking her. She wasn’t surrounded by cameras, she wasn’t giving interviews—but she didn’t need to be. Her presence said enough. The cheekbones, the sun-kissed skin, the unmistakable quiet pride in the way she held that helmet.

She caught him staring.

Instead of pretending not to notice, she tilted her head slightly and gave him a half-smile. It wasn't shy. It was amused.

“You’re Lando Norris, right?” she said, her voice low, steady. The kind of voice that made people pause.

“Yeah,” he replied, mouth already dry. “That’s me.”

“I’m Vivi.”

“I know,” he blurted, too quickly. “I mean—yeah. Everyone knows. You’re—” He stopped, because how exactly do you tell someone they’re famous for being the daughter of a legend?

“The daughter of Ayrton Senna,” she said for him, with a tired, soft smile. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

“I didn’t want to be weird.”

“You’re already weird,” she said, teasing. “But I don’t mind.”

He laughed, awkwardly brushing his hair back. “I’m a huge fan of your father. I mean, who isn’t? I think it’s basically mandatory if you love F1.”

“I always joke about that,” she said, eyes twinkling. “But you might be right. It’s probably a legal requirement.”

“I’m serious. They should put it on our FIA licenses: ‘Must worship Senna.’”

Vivi let out a real laugh—short, surprised, warm. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh? What did you expect?”

“Something colder. More serious. Maybe a little arrogant.”

“Well, ouch,” he said, clutching his chest in mock pain. “But fair.”

She glanced sideways at him, then back at the helmet in her lap. “You drive for McLaren, right?”

“Yeah. Feels surreal most days.”

“Are you happy?”

He nodded, a little more seriously. “I’m living my dream.”

Something in the way he said it made her shift slightly on the bench, creating a small space beside her.

She didn’t say anything.

But he understood.

Lando sat beside her, close but not too close, his eyes never leaving the helmet.

“Is that really his?” he asked, voice lowered like they were in a cathedral.

Vivi nodded. “Yeah.”

“Can I…?” He trailed off, unsure.

She handed it to him without a word.

Lando took it like she was passing him something sacred. And maybe she was. His fingers traced the edge of the visor, the curve of the shell. “This is incredible,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d even see it up close, let alone hold it. I think I might faint.”

Vivi laughed again, and Lando’s stomach flipped. That sound was magic.

“I’m giving it to Hamilton,” she added, gently.

“Careful,” Lando grinned. “He’s old. That much emotion might kill him.”

She laughed louder this time.

“He deserves it,” she said. “The tribute he’s doing for my dad… it’s beautiful. My father would’ve liked him.”

There was a pause. Not awkward—just heavy enough.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando said quietly.

“You just did,” she replied, lips tugging upward. But then she nodded. “Go ahead.”

“You’re the daughter of the Ayrton Senna. But you’ve kept your distance from all this. Why?”

She inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “Anger, mostly. Grief too, I guess. Formula One didn’t just make him—it took him from me.”

Lando didn’t speak. He didn’t rush in with reassurances or cliches. He just listened.

“My father gave everything to this sport,” she continued. “And in the end, they repaid him with a mechanical failure. A stupid, pointless error. A race that should never have happened. And now… all I have are stories. A name he chose for me before he died. A helmet. A country that mourned louder than my mother ever could.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Lando glanced down at the helmet in his hands.

He wanted to hug her. Every part of him itched to move closer. But instead, he just said,

“Your dad changed Brazil. He changed all of us.”

Vivi nodded, blinking tears from her lashes. “I know. And I’m proud. It’s just... complicated. In Brazil, people live and breathe football. We cancel school for World Cup games. We cry over it. But no one expected the country to stop for a race car driver. And yet—my father made that happen. He made a nation care about something no one noticed before.”

She paused again. Then smiled—wistful, broken at the edges.

“My mom told me once that his dream was to go to Disney.”

“Disney?” Lando echoed, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Vivi nodded. “Silly, right? But he never went. Said it would steal time from training. That’s how much he gave to this. His life. His time. His joy. And it killed him.”

Silence fell. Except it wasn’t empty. It was full—of love, of loss, of a million unspoken things.

Lando handed the helmet back to her gently. “He would be proud of you, you know.”

“I hope so,” she said, brushing her thumb over the visor. “I really do.”

•••

Later, when the tribute finished and the engines fell silent, Hamilton completed his final lap in Ayrton’s McLaren, waving the Brazilian flag just as Ayrton once had. The crowd was louder than thunder.

Vivi stood near the pit wall, eyes wet, heart full. She watched Hamilton remove his helmet and break into tears. She had already given him the old one—the one—and he’d held it to his chest like it was made of his hero’s spirit.

Lando found her hours later, long after the crowd had left and the champagne had lost its fizz.

“Think he did okay?” he asked, voice softer now.

Vivi turned, smiling gently. “He did more than okay. I think my father would’ve been proud.”

“You heading out?”

“Yeah. I came, I remembered, I cried. Mission complete.”

“No after-party for you?”

She shook her head. “Not really in a party mood, to be honest.”

Lando hesitated. And then—well, bravery had won him a few races before.

“What about dinner?” he asked. “Just us. I mean… you’re Brazilian, I’m not. Maybe you can show me something new.”

Vivi blinked, surprised—but amused. “Dinner?”

“Strictly educational,” he said, grinning. “Cultural exchange.”

She looked at him for a beat longer than necessary. Then, finally—finally—smiled.

“Okay, British boy,” she said. “But only if there’s dessert.”

“Deal,” he said, holding out a hand like he was sealing a contract.

And just like that, Vivi stood, tucking the helmet beneath her arm. Grief would always live with her—but maybe, just maybe, joy had room too.

They walked off together—not as legend and fan, not as symbol and driver, but as two people learning what it meant to be seen.

[h-rtsnana]

heyy, can u do a quick yeonjun blurb that is like racing themed and when yeonjun is about to race he finds a little sticky note on his helmet that reader put it for him to read to give him goodluck or reassurance that he’ll do well?

FIRST LAP.

pairing: underground racer!yeonjun x reader.

genre: racer au, fluff.

warnings: profanity, established relationship.

The roar of engines bounced off the walls of the deserted racing track, shivering up your spine as you watch your boyfriend stand just off the track; helmet tucked under his arm and sweaty hair clinging to his forehead.

He was focused—jaw ticked, neck cocked and eyes narrowed. Yet, you knew, under that cocky façade—it were his nerves settling in, buzzing like static underneath his skin.

One more race, one more chance to prove himself. To his manager, to all of those watching, his opponents and more importantly, you.

You catch a glimpse of his manager saying something to him, probably that he was next to race. He reassuringly pats him on the shoulder and walks off as Yeonjun rolls his shoulders back trying to relax.

Your breath catches as he finally moves to put on his helmet.

And then he pauses.

Fingers still, eyes narrowing slightly, shoulders dropping just a little. You watch from a distance as he notices it—a sticky note, clinging to the top of the visor. Your handwriting in ink, slightly slanted from how fast you scribbled it before sneaking it into his helmet bag.

It doesn’t matter what the time says, you’re always a winner in my eyes. I love you and be safe, baby. — Y/n.

You see the way his lips part slightly, then pull into a soft smile, subtle but so unmistakably him—a little crooked, a little stunned, like he forgot how badly he needed to hear that.

With one last look around, he peels the note off carefully and folds it once before slipping it inside his suit, right over his heart.

Then he lifts the helmet to his head.

And just before it covers his face entirely, you catch it—The shift in his demeanor. The calm before the storm. The determination settling into his bones.

He wasn’t racing to prove anything anymore. Not to the cameras. Not to the world. Not even to himself.

Now, he was only racing for you.

The light flashes red—then yellow—then green. And he takes off—not to win—or escape but because for the first time in a long time, he knows exactly who he is and who’s waiting for him at the finish line.

© 2025 iTAEHYNZ.

TAGLIST: @boba-beom, @kiokantalope, @gardnhee, @n0-thisispatrick, @hyukafied, @hyunimylove, @luvsoobs, @choiwrld, @tyunkus, @belovedxiao, @h00nerz, @jellyyjn . . .

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the eras tour, but make it purple

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˚˖𓍢ִ 🌷 ˚ pink & green pngs — free to use !! no credits needed ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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You belong with me. 💚💛💜❤️🩵🖤

Letter on my site :)

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probably needed a hug but instead i logged onto tumblr and read f1 rpf

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3:47 pm, on the couch

rb with the time & where you’re sitting rn

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hi! remember me?? We talked abt dance once? I took a break and I’m back nowwww! probs will log out again tho ><

omg yes i remember you!

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hiii 😼

hellooo!!

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hey !!

omg hellooo

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Have we heard the story about Lando’s jacket?

The jacket was made by the son of former World Champion James Hunt.

Freddie Hunt said he saw Lando on Sunday and took the jacket off his own back and gave it to Lando for luck.

I’m sorry what now? First of all a $9,000 dollar jacket just gifted off his back. One of only 25 pieces.

The son of a former McLaren World Champion. The narrative is getting deafening, Jackie Stewart and family, Seb, James Hunt’s family. The circle of World Driver’s Champions is circling around him.

[h-rtsnana]

The Cat Distribution System 4/5

Summary:

When a stray kitten adopts Lando Norris, the self-proclaimed cat hater accidentally starts a soft-launch spiral with his secret girlfriend the ballerina Ariana Riverria.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, SMAU

Warning : none, just yeah the kitten will be different in some pictures

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Please let me know if you like it, I try to make it longer with more writen parts.

CHAPTER FOUR :

Paris looked different from the back of the Opera house.

The grand hall behind them was still glowing with chandeliers and whispers of ovations, but out here, in the quiet alley lit by golden lamps and a drizzle of soft rain, it felt like another world. A world where no one knew who they were. No cameras, no flashing lights. Just them. Lando and Ariana.

She was still in her stage makeup, a scarf loosely wrapped around her head, and a long black coat tied neatly at the waist. Her cheeks were flushed—not just from the performance, but from the adrenaline that always lingered afterward.

"You were amazing," Lando said for maybe the seventh time that night.

She looked up at him, one brow raised. "You say that every time."

"Because it's true every time."

He reached above her and tilted the umbrella slightly, so the rain didn’t catch the side of her hair. She hadn’t asked him to carry it—he just grabbed it from her bag the second they stepped outside, muttering something about being a gentleman and ignoring the way Max had loudly snorted in response from the car.

Max and Pietra had left them at the stage door. “We’ll give the lovebirds some air,” Max had teased, earning side look by Lando and an eyeroll from Ariana that still carried a smile.

Now they were strolling through the quieter side of the city, the rhythmic sound of rain on cobblestone filling the space between them.

"Did you even understand the plot?" she asked playfully, nudging his shoulder with hers.

Lando scoffed. "Please. Girl falls in love with boy. Boy lies. Girl dies dramatically in act one. Ghost ballerinas. Forgiveness. Sad curtain drop."

Ariana blinked. "Wow. That’s… not the worst summary I’ve heard."

He grinned, proud of himself. "I paid attention."

"You were texting Max Verstappen during the overture."

"Because he sent me a picture of Charlie with your fuzzy slipper in his mouth. I had to make sure it wasn’t life-threatening."

She laughed, tilting her head back. "You’ve turned into that kind of cat dad."

"Excuse me for caring about my son," he said, feigning offense. "I was stressed the whole first act. What if he missed me?"

She gave him a look. "He’s a cat."

"He’s our cat."

"Okay," she said with a smirk. "You’re not wrong."

They walked a little further, the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower flickering in the misty distance. She stopped in front of a storefront mirror and took out her phone. Behind her, Lando raised the umbrella just a bit so the frame would catch the soft sparkle of the city—and him, just slightly out of view.

@arianariverria "city days ✨"

@pietra: i know that hoodie. we all know that hoodie.

@pliésballet: we SEE the guy holding the umbrella in the glass Ariana don’t play dumb 😭

@catmomcentral: charlie really said “we soft launching again?”

@slowmo_softlaunch: she’s not even hiding she had a boyfriend anymore

@balletobsessionv the little orange heart is McLarren orange, it can't be a coincidence

Later in a flight from Paris back to Monaco, Lando was pacing.

Not in a dramatic way. Not quite. But his foot kept tapping, and every so often he’d check his phone like he expected Charlie to send a text.

"You know he’s fine, right? Max Verstappen was here to look out for him." Ariana said from her seat, pulling a blanket over her lap.

"He’s so small," Lando muttered. "And emotional. What if he thinks I abandoned him?"

"He probably thinks you went out to buy him more food."

Lando turned around. "What if he got stuck in something? What if he went exploring and couldn’t get out? What if—"

"Baby," she interrupted softly, standing to meet him halfway. "You left the heat on. You put out two bowls of food. You asked Max to go check on him everyday. He’s fine."

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I know. I just… I never expected to miss him this much. Is that weird?"

"No," she said, stepping into his space. "That’s love. He’s a little demon gremlin with toe beans and emotional manipulation powers."

He rested his forehead against hers, finally breathing in. "You’re good at calming me down, you know that?"

"I know."

Monaco — 2:14AM

The lights in the apartment were low. Ariana unlocked the door while Lando hauled their bags in with one hand, already whispering, "Charlie? You here, mate?"

No meow.

Lando froze.

“Where is he—”

And then he saw it.

Right there in the corner of his sim room, nestled inside one of his old karting helmets, was a small, ginger ball of fur—snoring gently.

Ariana watched from the doorway as he sank to his knees like he’d just witnessed the birth of his child.

“Oh my God,” he whispered. “He missed me so much he nested in my helmet.”

Ariana bit back a laugh. "Or he just thinks your sweat smells comforting."

Lando shot her a mock glare. "Let me have this moment."

She walked over and knelt beside him, chin on his shoulder as they stared at their very smug, sleeping kitten.

"You’re obsessed," she said.

"You knew this when you let me keep him."

"I regret it every day."

He smiled, eyes still on the little fluffball. "You love it."

"I love you, unfortunately."

"And Charlie?"

"…He’s alright."

Charlie sneezed in his sleep. Lando looked personally offended.

"You’re both the same," Ariana sighed. "Dramatic. Clingy. High-maintenance. And yet somehow—"

"Adorable?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Let’s go with that."

@landonorris "update: he fits in my helmet now."

@landozoned: this man is a walking contradiction now

@balletandboost: first cats now ballet??? WHO IS SHE (we know who she is)

@chaosgrid: lando adopting an orange cat when he races for McLaren orange is PEAK branding

@maxfewtrell: someone teach this man how to cat

@balletxf1theories: so he’s saying “I love you” to someone. AND they asked about his cat. oh we’re in deep now.

@f1gossiphub: so not only does he have a cat, but he has a GIRLFRIEND who apparently has to compete with said cat??? 😭

Texts messages :

Lando 🧡:

he did the double meow again. does that mean food or chaos

Ari 💃:

it means “i love you, now feed me and maybe i won’t knock your water over”

Lando 🧡:

he bit my toe. was that love ?

Ari 💃:

that was a warning 💀

Lando 🧡:

he stared at me for five minutes straight and then sneezed on my sock

Ari 💃:

yeah that’s normal.

Lando 🧡:

also how do you teach a cat to hi-five. i’m googling and i try to look out for a tuto on YouTube but can't find any

Ari 💃:

oh my god, you’re in too deep now

The next day Lando was joined by Max to stream on his Twitch channel.

Lando was off-camera, rummaging for snacks, while Max kept chat entertained.

"Alright, we’re doing the haunted cabin thing. Ghost dog included. We’re not surviving."

Chat flew:

how’s lando’s cat?

did he name him charlie for real?

show the kitten nooow

Too casually, Max glanced at the chat and said, "Which one? The white one or the orange one?"

A loud choking sound erupted from somewhere off-screen.

"BRO?! WHAT?!"

Max burst into laughter, turning toward the camera with a shit-eating grin.

"What? I just meant, like, in general. Cats. Furry things."

Lando reappeared, snack in hand, jaw dropped.

"You can’t just say things like that casually, you absolute muppet!"

"You’re the one who owns a clowder at this point."

"I’m going to uninstall this game and your internet."

"Worth it."

Chat erupted:

WHITE ONE???

not the second cat reveal mid pasta bite 💀

ariana’s cat is white. you’re not slick.

SOFT LAUNCH GAME: COMPLETED.

Then during a lull in the game, a soft mew piped up off-camera.

Lando paused immediately. "Hold on."

He turned away from the screen, shuffled out of frame, then returned holding Charlie... who was now sporting a very obvious, very soft pink bow tied neatly around his neck.

Max wheezed. "NO WAY. Is that new?!"

Lando looked directly at the camera, blank-faced. "Oh wait I forgot to take it off."

Chat lost it:

PINK BOW. PINK BOW. PINK BOW.

we have confirmation: lando is in love with this kitten and/or a ballerina

not very 'i hate cats' of you 😭

That's the same orange cat with pink bow that Ariana posted in her insta ! Ultimate proof that it IS the same kitten

CHARLIE IN A BOW >>>

Texts messages : 

Lando 🧡:

you owe me. twitch saw the bow.

Ari 💃:

he looked adorable. i regret nothing.

Lando 🧡:

chat thinks i'm the type of guy to tie pink bow around my cat for fashion reasons

Ari 💃:

i mean... it’s 2025. masculinity is fluid. embrace it.

Lando 🧡:

i’m going to buy one for me to match with charlie

Ari 💃:

honestly? kind of hot

Lando 🧡:

okay but seriously... maybe it’s time?

Ari 💃:

to stop hiding?

Lando 🧡:

yeah. i mean, Charlie already told everyone anyway.

Ari 💃:

true. he’s the worst-kept secret of this relationship.

Part 5

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !

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kinich　˘ 　genshin impact 　　 art﹒ 2024 birthday art　　

　

render rules/tos:

reposts ok, if credited to @clowdywings

don't claim as yours

unless otherwise stated, personal & commercial use okay

read my notice here

request renders in my discord server

[h-rtsnana]

- series masterlist - series masterlist - series masterlist -

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

Have you ever heard about the girl who got frozen? While time moved on for everyone else, she stayed trapped in a single moment, lost in a fantasy of what could have been. She’s still 23, clinging to the life she thought she’d have, the one where everything was “just right.”

This is the story of a woman living in delusion, unable to let go of the exact moment her world fell apart. Breakups happen every day, but for her, it was more than that. Sitting cross-legged at a restaurant table, under the dim light, across from him, everything felt perfect—until he said, “I met someone else.” The shatter of glass on the white tablecloth marked the death of their love, but not the end of her story.

While everyone else moved on, she stayed behind. In that restaurant, in that moment, with those words echoing in her mind, her heart suspended in a “forever” that never came.

A poignant romance about heartbreak, grief, and the lives we leave behind when we can’t move forward. If you ever wonder if you got it all wrong, remember:

“I’m right where you left me. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.”

⌞ BOOK INDEX ⌝

✎ chapter one: "love is short but forgetting is so long"

✎ chapter two: "did the love affair maim you too?"

✎ chapter three: “you kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath”

✎ chapter four: "help, I'm still at the restaurant"

✎ chapter five: "there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

✎ chapter six: "and there was happiness because of you too, right?"

✎ chapter seven: “the worst part”

✎ chapter eight:

✎ chapter nine:

⚠️ [on the making. this could change so many times] ⚠️

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting , @flowerpotterr , @aundercover , @janeh22