#☀️ sol's asks

[sematarygirls]

ur fav barry headcannons

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curly haired barry is my favorite barry (i found a pic of nick cirillo with shortish curly hair and i have never seen barry the same since)

my man is a swiftie first, human second.

he's in his room in the middle of the night BLASTING taylor.

you give him an aux and it's just you two? taylor is going on. need someone to attend the eras tour with you? he is the first one to volunteer.

(he is 100% a lover girly, but he hates admitting it)

he is also a complete gentleman

he's always holding doors open for you. whether he has to jog in front of you to open it or go around the other side of the car to hold the door open for you, he makes it his MISSION to open that mf door.

you are his girl and his girl will not be caught DEAD opening her own door

he lives with his grandma and most of his money from his thriving drug business goes to her medical bills

since he doesn't have too much money to spare (but his love language is gift giving) he collects things he think you'll like.

he loves finding a pretty rock, shell, or flower, knowing how excited you'll be when he gives it to you.

seeing you smile is his favorite thing

he also LOVES complimenting you

you could look like you've been run over by a semi and man will still fawn over how beautiful you look.

and it never feels artificial. he's so genuinely head over heels for you.

his love language (recieving) is physical touch. he loves being touched by you (not like that get your head out of the gutter)

he loves feeling your fingers tangle in his hair, softly massaging his scalp, especially after a long day of dealing with those stuck up kooks 🙄

he melts into your touch its ADORABLE.

definitely has a whole playlist of songs that remind him of you

romcom LOVER

loves a good horror movie with a romcom chaser. bonus points if its a horror romance.

hates reading.

he loves the stories, and will fold instantly if you ask to read to him, but reading as an act bores him

can't cook for SHIT

ask this man to make toast and he will damn near burn the house down

tried making edibles once... did not go well

i have a lot more too. barry is the literal love of my life. lmk if you want more 🤭

(yes im aware some of these are probably way off and only apply to the romanticized version of barry i have in my head but I DONT CARE. let me be delusional in peace)

[solcorvidae]

Hey Sol! from the soft fic prompt meme, 9. shoulder kisses? (maybe during a comforting hug, or whatever you want <3)

Hi friend!! Thank you for always sending in so many prompts, I love it. Your ideas and headcanons about these two are always so good whenever we talk :D This one got away from me a bit... it's almost ten times as long as I initially planned, but I had a lot of fun playing around with it this week!

Prompt: shoulder kisses (+ comfort) Ship/Characters: Past Lambert & Volthere, Aiden/Lambert Word Count: 1726 words

Fic below and on AO3

~

Stray Dog (Yours, Until)

It was one of those dreams he could never stop, or at least, that's what he told himself when he awoke from his sleep, disoriented and afraid. 

Lambert's voice rang through his skull as he gasped for air and bit off the broken wail he let out, stifling it into a wordless plea. The sickly crunch of frail bones echoed in his mind as Lambert shuffled back against something he couldn't fully identify. 

Checking his surroundings, Lambert first identified the waxy moon above him, its reflection weary in his frightened gaze. Slowly, he came to his senses, recognizing the stillness of their surroundings, barring the occasional rustle of a small prey animal nearby. 

A hand reached out, pulling Lambert back onto the overlapping bedrolls. "It's just a dream, Lamb," the voice soothed, body shifting to accommodate the stiffness of Lambert's frame when he refused to follow. 

With a sigh, the man sat upright so he was eye to eye with the trembling witcher. "Lambert, look at me," he said, demanding attention, momentarily halting the tears. Lambert looked him over cautiously as if confirming that he was really there before crumbling completely. 

The sob that painfully clawed its way from Lambert's throat dampened as his head was guided awkwardly over into the crook of the man's neck. "Aiden," Lambert choked before he started to cough. 

Aiden quickly let go of him, keeping a firm but gentle hand on Lambert's back, allowing Lambert to twist and hunch over painfully as a wave of panic-induced nausea washed over him. Lambert's coughing fit turned into pitiful retching as his mind floated back to the memories he desperately tried to keep at bay. Decades may go by, but seeing your best friend --another child-- die such a horrific death? It never leaves you. No matter the things Lambert has seen and done since the shrill screams of a child in pain never fail to make him sick. 

"It's okay, Lambert. It's just a dream," Aiden repeated, waiting for Lambert's breath to steady.

His skin was sheen, but his body trembled under the gentle breeze. Lambert nodded, scrunching up his face and turned his back to Aiden. He didn't want to see the pitied expression he knew lived there. It was pathetic, really. Out of all the horrors he bore witness to, Lambert was bothered still by the Trial of the Medallion. No, he was bothered by the death of his classmates, his best friend. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Can I touch you?"

Silence.

"Lambert...?" When Lambert didn't respond, Aiden touched his arm, just above the elbow, feather light at first but growing more firm once he realized Lambert visibly relaxed into it. "Is this okay?"

He nodded. "Please don't go." 

Aiden's heart shattered at the sound of Lambert's voice, heartbreakingly flat as if he expected Aiden to take his words as his cue to leave for good this time. "I'm not going anywhere, Lamb," he breathed, scooting closer to Lambert's bare back so they lay back-to-front, Lambert's arm trapping Aiden's against his body. Lambert pulled Aiden's hand against his sternum, shivering when the wind stole their body heat despite the blanket fighting valiantly to protect them from the outside world. They sat like that, in silence, for a long moment. Aiden's gentle breaths graced the back of Lambert's neck as he tried not to doze off in the silence between them; Lambert's lip began to quiver. 

"Aiden?" Lambert asked, hating the way he sounded. A low rumble came as his answer. "How do you do it? How has all this not made you into a terrible person like it has me?"

It took everything in him not to say I'm not a good person, Lambert, so instead, Aiden chewed on his thoughts for a moment, thinking carefully about what he was to say next. The longer the silence stretched, the harder it was for Lambert to keep quiet. His throat and chest involuntarily spasmed as he tried to stifle a weak, choked-out sob. 

"You've done some terrible things, Lambert..." Aiden began hesitantly, tightening his hold on the man before him, gently kissing the side of his hair just behind Lambert's ear. "But so have I. You are responsible for your actions, but you are not responsible for the things done to you. You hold so much grief," Aiden said, brushing his thumb across the back of Lambert's thumb, held close to his companion's warm skin. "No one can blame you for that."

Aiden could smell the salt in the air just as much as he could feel the tears roll off Lambert's cheek and onto his arm. Aiden was older than Lambert, remembering less of his childhood than the Wolf, losing it to time. For better or for worse, Aiden had accepted that. Lambert's brothers hardly remember their lives before they were subject to the trials, and he was even older, albeit not by much. The pair often forgot they weren't the same age with how they got on and how seamlessly they managed to fit into each other's lives since meeting in Ellander some years ago. It took them a while to trust one another fully, but the time was worth the company and the resulting sense of what some may call kinship, others something else. Their relationship was far too complex for something as confining as a friend or lover. It was undeniable that Aiden loved Lambert, as did Lambert love Aiden, but those words didn't have to be said and held too many connotations anyway. 

Aiden kissed the scarred skin of Lambert's shoulder, allowing his lips to linger before pressing his forehead to the nape of his neck. "You are a product of your making, Lamb. Unfavourable reactions come from unfavourable situations."

Lambert let out a shuddering breath. "I can't remember his face, Aiden; I can still hear his screams. I'm so scared of losing the good memories-- fuck!" Lambert hissed, rolling over and burying his face in Aiden's chest. "This is so pathetic. I can't believe I'm crying over something that happened almost two fucking decades ago." 

Aiden held a firm hand over the crown of Lambert's hair, gently combing through the damp strands that lived there. "You don't have to remember his face to have those memories. I hardly remember Kiyan anymore. We grew up together, you know?" Aiden paused to leave another kiss with Lambert, his temple this time. "He disappeared one summer, and I never found out what happened to him. He's probably dead, but I sometimes hope he's gone off somewhere and retired instead. He's from a cohort from a few years prior, yeah?" 

Lambert furrowed his brow in confusion against Aiden's exposed skin. "You talk about him all the time. Maybe you're going senile," he joked weakly. 

Aiden let out a puff of air that resembled a small laugh. "What did you and Volthere get up to when you weren't training?"

"You are going senile," said Lambert, the hurt slowly dissolving from his tone. 

"Humour me."

"We would roughhouse with the other boys if we had the energy. In our quarters, we would set up the room after our instructor did his last check-in for the night."

"Vesemir?"

"No, another old bastard put in charge," Lambert replied, receiving a gentle smack to his arm. "When I received my swords alone without the only other boy who made it out of Old Speartip's cave, another face who I never took the time to know and never got the chance to after we were pit against each other during the Trial of the Sword, I remembered our plans, me and Volthere. Late at night, way after the other trainees were well and dreaming, we huddled under the covers to block out most of the moonlight and just talked." 

As Lambert spoke, Aiden's eyes rounded out even more than they needed to be to see in the low moonlight. Lambert paused at the familiarity before continuing. "We always had this stupid idea that once we were both given our swords, we would head off on our own for a few months before meeting up again in Kaedwen. There used to be a tavern and inn on the corner on the south side." Aiden smiled knowingly but didn't interrupt. "We planned to meet there a few months after the first thaw and travel as a pair. On the Path, we wouldn't be under monitor like corpses who caught the attention of a stray hawk. Nothing could stop us from doing so, but we feared what would happen if Vesemir or our other instructors found out later that winter. We would stagger our arrival back to Kaer Morhen by a few days to avoid raising suspicions or causing grief." 

Aiden was fending off sleep with minimal success as his limbs weighed heavily and draped over Lambert's body. The rustling of the trees and the steady, shallow breaths dancing across Lambert's scalp lulled him back into a sense of safety and familiarity. In a display of Herculean effort, Lambert cupped Aiden's cheek and kissed him tenderly, his nose pressed into the soft skin that remained bare beside his callused thumb. "You better not leave me," he whispered, afraid to even say it out loud. It was only a matter of time before he would lose him too: it was in his nature. 

Lambert, the last and youngest witcher of the Wolf School, was a man whose birth was considered a loss, so it was only natural that loss continued to define his life in every moment that followed. Lambert knew this deep down, but he refused to acknowledge it. He knew that the moment he loved something was the moment his destiny would override everything. Lambert was a man whose destiny was defined and shaped by none other than what he stands to lose. 

"I'll be here as long as you'll have me," Aiden replied, voice thick with the pull of sleep. 

Maybe this time will be different. 

"I hope you'll have me for just as long." 

"You know what they say," Aiden murmured, teetering on the edge of sleep. 

"Hm?"

"If love could save, I think I'd live forever." 

Lambert paused for a moment to let the feeling wash over him. Yeah, maybe it will be different after all.

"I think so, too."

~

[Title: "Stray Dog" by Amigo The Devil--go listen to it👀]

[pompompurin1028]

🐮 :D

Ask Game: send me a 🐮 and i will refresh my pinterest and give u my first four pics as a random moodboard

fanart by: zyzy_aries on twt

[bitchlessdino]

NANA THE PINK HAIR IM GOING TO SOB

So that’s why he wasn’t posting. Honestly I’m glad, he looks adorable and he’s talked about wanting it 🥹

[agendergear]

fairy festival, laetitia, and the firebird for the lobo corp asks? :33

(also hi this is @crimsonsunrise ignore my main JSHDJD)

haiii sol :D no worries hope you're well!! i picked kuro for this one because. you know. the new cards. he forcibly made his way back into my brain in the midst of the project moon brainrot.

Fairy Festival - How do you and your f/o care for one another? Treating one another's injuries? Cooking for each other? Something else?

there's a lot of ways, but the main one we both use is little check-ins on each other like "how was your day?" "did you eat yet?" "did you take your meds?" and so on. they may seem like simple bare minimum things but for people who did not receive the bare minimum of kindness it means a lot.

Laetitia - What kind of gifts do you and your f/o get for each other?

we usually make little gifts for each other instead of buying things :] he canonically sews so he like. makes jackets and accessories for me and i usually write him something.

The Firebird - How long did it take for you and your f/o to get together? Was it a slow burn on both sides, or did one of you fall fast and do everything to catch the other's attention?

it took a while not because of obliviousness, but because neither of us want to ruin our friendship. we got pretty close by the time we realized we had crushes on each other >_< it took quite a bit of nudging from our mutual friend groups to like. actually make a move.

[lobotomy corp self ship asks]

[ace-of-hearts-and-spades]

For the vibes ask! 🌙

5C?

Damn I guess the general consensus is 5C huh? Can't argue with that. The lighter's a fun touch tho. I'd enjoy having a cool lighter just for the hell of it, even if I don't smoke :P

[linalilia]

LISTEN. my taste in men is a range and first and foremost are the pathetic ones, they lead the army

bonus points if they have the biggest babygirl energy

SO SO VALID i mean look at my fav hsr men. look at those losers. i love them so much

i like how your favorite men are like. they're either the smartest and most responsible people you'll ever meet and they have all the braincells here or they're itto

[linawritestwst]

🤯💔✨HI LINA YAYYYY also for a second, i thought this was gonna send some massive emojis bc at first the emojis were HUGE and i was like aw man

HI SOL and SJDBHSJKSJJ I GET IT sometimes when you use only emojis, tumblr will make them look really big, but when you start typing letters they will go back to normal

🤯 "What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?"

i hate writing action SO MUCH. i can write it properly only if i'm in the mood and i'm listening to music that fits the scene. like, can these two just punch each other and call it an action scene? 😭 writing mystery stories also can be a little hard for me bc i like to talk about my characters so much that i can accidentally reveal something that was supposed to be a secret jdkdslsls

💔 "Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?"

not really a fic, it's an oc story and it has a lot of very emotional scenes between the two main characters. if you want an example, one of the scenes has that character who is usually very loud and confident, end up crying and revealing that he actually never had any friends before meeting that other main character and that he was hated by a lot of people and he doesn't even know why. the other character calms him down and comforts him.. while also planning to make this guy depend on him more and more so that he never leaves.

✨ "Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉"

i think my writing is actually pretty good? :'D like, i know some people who actually told me that a lot of scenes from my oc stories made them cry or feel many other emotions and i'm glad that my imagines make people happy <3

[lanasblood]

Lana ignore that anon, i swear ppl have the biggest confidence hiding under anon. 🙄

I love seeing you pop on my dash whether it’s your own post, in someone’s asks or in my notifications. I’m glad I met you! 🥰

sia baby you’re making me emo!!! 🥺 i don’t care about that anon but you being so sweet to me, I care about it a lot!! you’re literally the impersonated sunshine and I’m glad I met you too (read that in neteyam‘s voice) 🫂💗 ily <33

[rachelchinouriris]

purple extremely talented extremely funny mutual 💜

i love you 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[sematarygirls]

Could you post what you have so far for living dead girl so we aren’t left hanging?

sure! i already posted it a bit ago, but it was quite awhile ago, so i'll be happy to post it again for you <3

it sort of makes me cringe when i read it now but i'll take one for the team

"What the hell do you want from me?" Patrick asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice as he spun around to face you.

You grinned wickedly, trailing your fingers along his chest. "To feel your fear," you whispered darkly, leaning in so your lips ghosted over his earlobe. "Are you scared yet?"

"Fuck you," he scoffed, stepping away. "I'm not afraid of some little bitch"

"Oooh," your eyebrows furrowed in distaste as you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Such a vulgar mouth." Faster than he could even comprehend what was happening, your hand reached up, gripping his throat with inhumane strength.

He sputtered something incoherent as he tried to fight you off him, clawing at your arm, hand, face, anything he could touch, but you were completely unfazed, staring into his eyes with a fire that ignited a foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Do you know what it's like to die?" You asked through gritted teeth. He tried to shake his head, his movement hindered by your hold on his neck. "Would you like too?" You grinned sinisterly, watching the fear in his eyes grow for a moment before pushing him back and releasing his throat from your grip.

He stumbled backward, tripping over the end of his bed as he gasped for air. His eyes were blown wide, all bravery gone as he crawled away from you.

"Relax," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. You disappeared, appearing in front of him in a crouched position so you two were eye to eye. You pressed your hand to his cheek, caressing it lightly which caused him to recoil away from you. "I'm not gonna kill you," you flashed a dark grin his way as he stared at you with fear. "I'm not done playing with you yet."

"Get the fuck away from me," he croaked out, voice weak from both being choked and being frightened half to death, but he still tried to regain his dominance.

"You're in no position to make demands," you laughed humorlessly, obeying him nonetheless and giving him a bit of space. You flopped down onto his bed, making yourself comfortable as if you hadn't been strangling him a moment prior. "Your bed is surprisingly comfortable."

He carefully pulled himself up from his position on the ground, staring at you as he crossed the room quickly, making his way to the door. With a wave of your hand, the door slammed shut. "W-what? How did you-"

"Are you really this stupid?" You groaned, placing your arms behind your head and watching in amusement as he tried to open the door to no avail. "I guess I'll spell it out for you. I'm a ghost. I'm dead. I have otherworldly abilities," you said, explaining it for him in a few different ways. "Does that pretty much clear it up for you?"

"This isn't happening to me. This can't be happening to me," he murmured to himself, fiddling with the doorknob.

"God, you're whiny," you scoffed. He froze, his back straightening as he thought for a moment. After a beat, he turned around, advancing toward you with a newfound bravery.

"You're nothing," he seethed, looming over you. "You're not real. I'm real."

"Ooooh," you smirked, gazing up at him. "Finally, some fire."

"Listen here you little bitch," he wrapped his fingers around your neck, choking you as you had done to him. He glared at you as he climbed onto the bed, hovering on top of you. His eyebrows furrowed, words dying in his throat as he watched a grin spread on your face.

"Can't feel pain, babe," your lips curled upwards, a condescending edge in your voice. "Only," you trailed off, swiftly flipping you two over so that you were on top of him. "Pleasure." You watch his eyes darken significantly as he licked his lips. "One of the many parks of being dead; I suppose."

He clenched his jaw, hands falling away from your neck and resting on your hips instead. "Y'know I gotta give you a little credit. I was so," you sighed. "Bland when I was alive." Your eyes trailed to the space where his shirt had ridden up, exposing a bit of his stomach, the exact place where he had driven a knife into you. "The perfect victim, huh."

"You were pathetic," he degraded, flashing his Cheshire cat grin at you.

"No," you shook your head, disappearing and reappearing on the other end of the room. "You're pathetic," you taunted, promptly disappearing from his view and leaving him all worked up.

He called your name, demanding you come back to him or suffer the consequences. You, of course, watched from the shadows, invisible to the human eye as he stared at his ceiling, a scowl etched on his face as he laid in discomfort.

You had power over him. This was your unfinished business. You were meant to make him feel how he had made you feel— weak, small, helpless. You were made to make him suffer.

He laid in bed, processing the events that had happened up until now and trying to ignore the tightness in his jeans. "Fuck," he groaned, standing from his bed and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He was hot, too hot. It felt like his skin was on fire.

He stumbled to the bathroom, the feeling on his skin something unnatural— he fucking knew that you were behind it. He couldn't tell whether he hated it or enjoyed it. It was walking the thin line between torture and ultimate pleasure. It burned so bad that it almost felt good.

He turned the shower on, stepping into the ugly green bathtub, only shedding the rest of his clothes once they were soaking wet. He groaned out in relief as the freezing water soothed his skin.

This feeling was shortly lived as he heard your laugh resounding through the house which had him gritting his teeth.

Never in his life had he been met with his match. He couldn't hurt you. That was what got him into this mess, and he couldn't fuck with your mind because you were fucking with his.

He knew that feeling he felt, that anger every time he looked at you, was him staring at the only other real person in this shitty world, but he ignored it. He killed you, killed someone godly like himself, and was now facing the consequences.

"Fuck you!" He shouted, slamming his palms against the shower tile as water dripped down his body.

"You wish," your voice whispered right in his ear, but when he turned, he was met with nothing. The feeling on his skin vanished all at once, causing him to yell out as the icy water pelted his skin like hail. He fumbled, quickly turning it off with a frustrated sigh.

You were messing with him, and you were enjoying it. He hated being your plaything. He hated feeling weak and powerless like the animals he'd torture and kill and the loser kids he'd bully with his friends.

He lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling with his arms tucked behind his head, shirt riding up to reveal a small portion of his stomach as he thought about you.

Nothing had ever plagued his mind as much as you had, and it drove him mad. Most recently, his thoughts had been filled with feeling your lips on his, and your hands on his burning skin. Something about the fact that you were dead, murdered by his hands made him want you more than he'd wanted anything in his life.

[solcorvidae]

ask game!! ⭐️, 📚 or 🎶 or if there’s another u rly want to do then do that one :D

Hi Robyn!! Thank you for the ask <33

These are... mostly Lambert-centric snippets. Oops! I didn't plan that, but he lives in my brain 24/7 so I suppose it only makes sense that he appears so frequently in my writing.

⭐️ share a snippet where a character is the best at something.

The drive was only two hours in total, including stops. But Geralt was tired of his reading being interrupted by Lambert's loud chatter and his shrieking laughter as he threw the disgusting blanket he dragged everywhere onto Geralt's lap. Lambert thought Geralt's reaction was a riot.

"Lambert," Vesemir warned for what felt like the one-hundredth time that afternoon. "I will stop the car. This is your last warning. Stop bothering your brother." 

Geralt felt queasy as he flicked the dirty blanket off his book and back to Lambert's side of the truck. Lambert was quiet for all of five minutes before he began pestering Eskel instead, kicking the back of the seat. Eskel did not give him the attention he was searching for and simply moved the seat forward without further acknowledgement. It only took Lambert's tiny legs a few more swings to realize he could no longer reach the back of the seat in front of him. "Noo, put it back!"

Lambert's voice felt like nails on a chalkboard to Geralt as he slapped the palms of his hands over his tiny ears to block out the shrill whining of the five-year-old next to him.

(Lambert is the best at being annoying during family outings... especially if it involves more than a 20 minute drive. But hey, he's five here, who can blame him? Also, yes. He is a blanket kid.)

📚 share a snippet where the character is being academic/is in an academic setting/is showing off their knowledge.

If there was one thing Lambert was known for, it was finishing what he started. It didn't matter if it was a personal project, coursework, or an argument; if Lambert started something, he was never known to be the first to back down or leave it unfinished. 

He cursed through his teeth at the eraser-worn page in front of him. They were given the entire four-hour lab period to complete their work; Lambert was determined to take advantage of it even if his classmates rarely did. Balling his fists tightly in his hair, yanking harshly in frustration, Lambert felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He was the last person in the eerie classroom, short of his TA. 

The clock ticked mockingly in his ears as the remaining ten minutes of class marched on. There was no way Lambert was finishing this lab before he and his TA had to leave. 

He glared at the chalkboard with the results that still, for the seventh time, did not match the numbers on the pH meter in front of him or the aggressive handwriting scrawled on his page. He did not want to have to finish this over the weekend or gods forbid, hand it in as is. No, Lambert was top of his class the last two semesters; he would not let this impact his final. They were only halfway through the semester, he couldn't afford to use up what he liked to call his 'one designated fuck up' before he was off for the reading week. He couldn't afford that hanging over his head, not with his scholarship on the line, not when this lab was worth twenty percent of his final grade. 

(AKA: Top Ten Photos Taken Moments Before Disaster... and by disaster, I mean Lambert having a breakdown in his Organic Chemistry lab.)

🎶 share a happy moment. ANY happy moment. You must have ONE.

Aiden looked down at him with concern plastered on his face. He watched as tears streamed down the sides of Lambert's face, past his ears. He couldn't sense anything amiss, so why was he crying? 

Lambert pulled Aiden back down onto the bed beside him. "It's stupid," he said as they laid on their sides, faces mere inches apart, limbs tangled and intertwined so that neither man knew which foot belonged to whom. Lambert watched Aiden study his body language and found nothing. He was okay. He was more than okay. 

Lambert was happy. 

"I just love you so fucking much, you know?" Lambert choked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Aiden's eyes and tucked it behind his ear. 

Aiden fought a losing battle. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, swallowing his words, afraid that someone might hear and take it all away. 

(Canon Divergence, Alive Aiden fic. Probably going to be the next thing you see on AO3... whenever that may be)

[pompompurin1028]

Kat Kat Kat happy new year ♡♡♡ I'm so glad I know you

I'm late😭 but happy new year Sol!! I'm glad I got to know you too you're the sweetest <3

[bitchlessdino]

why is this video is 10 hours long 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

I WANT HIM SO BAD I NEED HIM WTF

[sunliv]

Steph for the character bingo thing

my beautiful beautiful baby girl 💜💜💜

character bingo

[gatual]

♫ hi bom <333

hii sol(´˘`*)♥️

1. holiday party - weeekly

2. tasty - youngjae

3. killing boys - halsey

4. love talk - wayv

5. girls - nature

send me a “♫” and I will put my music on shuffle and give you a 5 song playlist