#💅🏼 anon

[rcameronofficial]

It was a joke, Rafferty. No kids.

~💅🏼

what did you call me?

[vamptizm]

The real questions: are you no contact, how long have you been broken up, and will you get emotionally attached ~💅🏼

uhh yes we’re no contact, broke up late january, haven’t spoke since march/april and no i will not get attached but she lives 2 hours away and split on me last time we spoke while i was already having an awful day :)

[bi-writes]

just read anatomy of us

....readers growth???? i-

Speechless. Legitimately had to take a 30 minute walk outside to touch the trees and smell the fresh air. I feel like I'm not in control of my body. There is a werewolf inside me clawing its way out waiting for the next part to finally surface. Can we get a sneak peek at the next part of anatomy of us? A crumb for the fans? No pressure of course but just wanted to come on and compliment the addictiveness of your writing.

“Bloody hell,” Gaz hisses, leaning back in his seat. You blink away the fog in your brain, feeling your face heat. “You both reek of it.”

“Of what, Sergeant?” Simon bites, and John is the one to curl his fist around his cup and crush it with a scowl.

“Don’t play stupid, Simon,” John murmurs. “You both need another hosing down.”

“Anyone wanna join me?” You purr, and Simon curls his fingers around your hair and yanks your head back with a huff.

“Oh, you’d like tha’, wouldn’t you, kitty?”

“You have no idea, baby—”

“Bleedin’ Christ!” Johnny groans. He’s gone before you turn your head to look at him, and you smile to yourself, amused, but Simon tugs you back to him, pressing his nose to the side of your head.

[wulvercazz]

I feel like you made grimmjow and ichigo an oc at this point, like they are so far from their canon selves. Especially grimmjow, had to unfollow due to him being so ooc.

You're art is pretty though.

🥱 … ok?

Look, idk where you’re coming from, if you wanted me to feel bad for myself or apologize or what?? I think one should think about what our intentions are before making an unsolicited comment, specially behind an anonymous; what were you expecting to get, or achieve, by saying this to me? If you meant to offend me,,, try again, idgaf what anyone’s negative opinions of my art and portrayal of my ships are. And if you honestly meant to be “nice” by saying my art is pretty with all that shit on top… try again, and maybe think better before you try and approach anyone else who’s giving you free content.

Or maybe you didn’t even know what you intended, but for future reference, in case you weren’t aware, your comment is just a backhanded compliment that tbh no artist or writer or anyone cares to hear.

If you don’t like my portrayal of them, fine. Idc, it’s not for you, it’s for me and for anyone else who likes what I do. Many which are so kind to always tell me so and show support on socmed or on my discord.

So,,, kindly get off my lawn💕 My ichigrimm is for me, I just share it here for free because I enjoy it; I could always keep it forever behind a paywall. And if you happened to be an ex-subscriber; you’re in your full right to stop supporting me if you wished so, but not to try and shit on my fandom experience.

So anyway,,, spoilers for all of us who love Grimm being soft and not a copy-paste of canon in every Alternate Universe;

I got a cottagecore au with they/them witch!Grimmjow coming up🥰✨✨✨ I’m sooo excited about it Grimmjow looks so fckn pretty 😩💕 +all the pretty flowers and dresses and with hybrid creature!Ichigo??? 👀👀👀💕💕💕 it won’t be for another bit but HHHHH excitee 👀✨

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Nobody who is uwu so shy brags abt being someone's cumslut in the first post visible on their blog💀

wrong because I do 🥰

[cohldhands]

Imagine getting your nails done the same color as Kiba’s tip just to fuck with him…

(nsfw rambles below.)

oh my god. he would love it.

you found yourself thinking about kiba’s cock and that tanned pinkish head often, how he looked down at you with dark eyes and a toothy grin when you wrapped your delicate fingers around his shaft and encased his tip in your pretty lips. he enjoys how the color of your bare skin looks against his, all of the shades of your bodies in a palette he’d paint the world in if he could

so when you finally made an appointment and saw a familiar hue of skin, you couldn’t choose anything but. you message him a picture when they’re done, captioned and inquiring of his opinion with feigned innocence, and in truth he’d respond with praise and heart emojis.

it wouldn’t be until much later in the night, when the collage of skin is barred against your white and mint sheets and he’s watching you, again, with your dainty fingers holding his length, that he makes the connection. when your thumb teases the head of his cock and the colors merge, collecting the slick on his tip and teasing the skin, his hips jut and pupils swell, inflamed.

at first, he’s confused. then, wildly intrigued. the color belongs against your skin, of that he’s certain, but he finds the notion not only endearing but arousing. he knows how to mark you: purple and red bruises dotting your skin, creating a constellation of his; to bathe you in his scent, to fill you with his potent seed over and over again, claiming you in the way he innately did so. and you leave your mark on him, too.

but this? your nails, in a different way altogether, claimed him as yours; the sentiment is reciprocated, the possession of something that can’t be owned. claimed him as yours in such a subtle yet deeply intimate way.

you look up at him through your eyelashes with a grin on your parted lips as you watch the realization hit him. the wheels turn in his mind, and it’s only a fraction of a moment before he’s hardening and twitching under your touch. you wrap your fingers around him and press a kiss to his swollen cockhead, and he grins. that beautiful, shit-eating, ‘i want to fuck around and let you find out’ toothy grin that causes flutters in your abdomen and the pulsing in your cunt to increase.

“did i tell you i like your nails?”

[take-a-cchonce]

Imagine being in an apocalypse with 5 of your mutuals, what would happen? (Tag 5!)

ooh oh my god thats so fucking cool!

well not the death and zombies (its a zombie apocalypse dont question it) but yknow we'd be so cool together

we'd survive, i think.

UM HELP IM NOT SURE WHOM TO TAG

so i guess our lil gang will be Bells, Maddy, Kelly, Nash and umm Anna

(NO PLEASE I LOVE ALL OF YALL ANON ASKED ME TO PICK 5 WE'LL ALL SURVIVE PROMISE!)

anyways yeah so

Nash is gonna be the responsible older sib, take care of us all. the voice of reason yknow, the diplomat who keeps tabs on like the other clans

i really can't promise i wont do anything stupid but like cool looking (like drive a mack truck into a streetful of zombies while shouting at yall to save yourselves)

Anna you'd be on lookout/protection duty yknow, for some reason you're be really good at combat in my head i cant explain it

Maddy you'd be the one making the plans and like fixing up broken radios so we can keep tabs on the zombies and like doing your best to stop me from doing stupid stuff

Kelly you really don't fit any one trope in my head but medic/comfort person yknow? You got our backs. Are you good at cooking this is a suspicion i have

BELLA SWEETIE YOU'RE our lil ray of hope. I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE IF IT COMES TO THAT. you'd also be the lucky one (yknow the one who stumbles onto like a larder full of canned food or lots of ammo)

anyways yeah so thats that

@niallermybabe@ravenclawdirectioner@surrowndedbylights@annamiasworld@heartstopperlarrie

[sappho-favourite-pupil]

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

70. What turns you on?

78. What's your dirtiest secret?

58) a. Cook for me, ask me what i like to eat and surprise me with it.

b. Show me you remember little details about me and stuff i said months before.

c. Show interest in me, in what i do, in what i think, in being by my side.

d. Offer to give me your jacket.

e. Physical (not invasive) touch

70) Something that turns me on a lot is casual intimacy, like when a girl hugs me from behind, ask me to hold her hand, wants to snuggle in my arms...✨

71) This is embarassing but oh well. I got a few bottles of alcohol hidden in my closet (ironic, i know). Sometimes, when i can't sleep at night, i get kinda drunk, watch "Lady Oscar" and that makes me extremely horny (Oscar is 🥵).

[evansbby]

I think Chris Evans’ choice of partner turned a lot of girlies off. Everyone seems to be moving onto new fandoms with less drama. I know Ari is your first and true husband, bby, but you would honestly kill in the COD fandom.

The COD FANDOM??!? Like COD as in call of duty??? As in video games!!?

[whore4abby]

In my defense she's the only one to ever make me squirt

I'm going to be 💅 anon if you don't have one

PLSSSS😭😭😭😭😭

yeah u can have that !!!!

[taegularities]

and if cmi 9 suddenly drops tomorrow…. 👀

that'd be.. so fun, right 👀

[rcameronofficial]

Fine be that way, mister. I know you love me somewhere deep down in that icy heart. 🙄

~💅🏼

maybe I do, little brat.

[vamptizm]

Bestie don’t go back to your ex ~💅🏼

i’m not going BACK just.. going back for something that’s different right??

[whisperedmeg]

NAILED IT ⋆˚꩜｡ spencer reid x girlfriend!reader

summary: spencer’s been away too long, your nails are too long, and you’re getting a little desperate. good thing he’s always happy to lend a helping hand.

genre: fluff, smut | w/c: 2.1k

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, spencer calls reader sweetheart & sweet girl & angel, hand/finger/nail kink, masturbation (f; only attempted/discussed), fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, spencer cums in his pants lol, no use of y/n

a/n: based on anon’s request! loved this idea so much. couldn’t help making spencer the ultimate super whipped boyfriend lmao. enjoy! 💅🏼😉 p.s. if you zoom in on the far left photo you’ll see my sad photoshop attempt at the manicure I described lmao

You send Spencer the photo just before sunset.

It’s nothing fancy — just your hand resting on your thigh, fresh from the nail salon, skin still warm from the hot towel they wrap your hands in at the end of your appointment. The polish is indigo, with little gold stars forming teeny tiny constellations on each nail. They catch in the light when you move. You know he’ll appreciate that. You type out a quick caption and hit send.

You: new favorite set?

His response is almost instant, a flurry of three successive messages:

Spence: How do your hands keep getting more beautiful?

Spence: Also. Yes. Definitely a new favorite.

Spence: Wish I was there.

You stare at the screen, thumb hovering, debating what to send next. You want to say something clever — something flirty or offhand or designed to make him blush a little in public — but instead you just type:

You: come home soon, please

—

The TV hums low in the background, something forgettable you haven’t really been paying close attention to. You sit in the quiet for a while, curled into the couch like it might hold you tighter if you’re still enough. Outside, the sky is bruised and soft and growing darker by the minute. You keep staring at your hands.

Spencer always pays for your manicures. It wasn’t your idea — the first time you mentioned how expensive a full set was, he’d looked almost offended on your behalf and insisted you let him cover it from now on.

“Let me. You’re not just getting them done for you,” he’d said. “You’re also getting them done for me.”

And it’s kind of true. Spencer loves to watch your hands when you talk, like there’s a whole language he’s learning just from your fingers. He traces your knuckles during movies, plays with your rings when you’re standing in line, thumbs over the backs of your hands while you read, threads your fingers through his and presses them down into the mattress when he’s on top of you. He holds them like they’re precious artifacts. Like they’re rare.

You’d gotten this set done a few days after he left for a case out in Denver, and much to both of your chagrin, it ended up being a bad one that would keep him in Colorado for much longer than expected. You hadn’t realized how much of a problem your new nails would be until later that night, when you were wound tight and lonely and craving something warm and familiar. You’d lit a candle. Touched yourself under the blanket. Tried to make it quick.

But it hadn’t worked. You’d scratched yourself twice and gotten the angle wrong three times, and by the time you gave up, your whole body felt edged and annoyed.

You’ve tried again since. Twice, each attempt more frustrating than the last. You can’t say it out loud — I can’t get myself off because my nails are too long — without feeling ridiculous, so you don’t tell Spencer when he calls you each night from the hotel.

You press your hands between your thighs and exhale slowly, willing the ache to dull.

It doesn’t. You know it won’t.

Not until Spencer’s back, not until his hands are on you again, not until you can tell him in person how frustrated you’ve been — half-ashamed, half-hoping he’ll find it as ridiculous and kind of hot as you suspect he might.

But for now, you just sit with it.

The polish catches the light. The stars on your fingers shimmer. And you wait.

—

After a long ten days without him, Spencer finally calls you from the jet to let you know he was landing and would be at your apartment soon. You barely say anything on the call — just a soft “okay, baby,” because anything more might unravel you with want. The line goes quiet for a moment until he says he misses you, and you say it back, and then the silence stretches again like it always does when neither of you wants to hang up first. Eventually, he does. Reluctantly.

You don’t move until you hear footsteps approaching the door.

He lets himself in with the key you gave him months ago and drops his go-bag to the floor. You rise slowly from the couch and walk to the entryway, taking in how his messy curls framing his forehead, suit jacket slouched and travel-wrinkled, dark circles beneath his eyes like parentheses around something unsaid. You can see how the case wore on him, the heaviness of whatever weight he’s left carrying even after it’s over. But the second he sees you, his posture softens.

You don’t say anything at first. You just meet him where he stands and wind your arms around his waist.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath since he left.

“Hi,” you murmur.

He hums it back into your shoulder. “Hi.”

You stay like that for a while, his arms tightening around your back and his lips pressed to the side of your neck, like he needs to confirm you’re really here — still warm and real and his.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to look down at your hands.

“Let me see.”

You raise them instinctively, fingers spread. You watch his expression shift — first curious, then sweet, then something that edges towards arousal before he tamps it down with a swallow.

His thumb grazes over your ring finger. “These are… unreal.”

“You picked the design,” you remind him with a soft smile. “Sort of.”

“I told you I like stars. I didn’t realize you’d get a whole galaxy just for me.”

You shrug. “You pay, I impress.”

He smiles and lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing each fingertip like a habit. You feel those kisses everywhere.

“How was the flight?”

“Fine,” he says as he shrugs his jacket off. “Mostly. There was some turbulence. I didn’t sleep.”

You nod, even though he doesn’t need a response. The closeness is enough.

But when he leans in to press his forehead to yours, when he closes his eyes and exhales like the hard part’s over, you don’t relax the way you normally would. You’re warm, and full, and grateful he’s home, but there’s still something tight in your chest. In your belly. Lower.

He senses it instantly.

His hands still at your waist. His brow furrows just enough. “What is it?”

You hesitate. You could lie, say you’re just tired or overworked or don’t feel well. But the truth is sharp behind your teeth and strangely tender at the same time.

“I’ve just been a little… frustrated,” you say.

He stills. “Frustrated how?”

You glance down at your nails, then back up at him.

“I, um, got them done right after you left. They’re a lot longer and pointier than usual. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but I haven’t…” You gesture vaguely. “Been able to… you know.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. “You haven’t been able to… to touch yourself, this whole time?”

You shrug, embarrassed. “It’s harder with longer nails. Awkward. I gave up. Maybe I should just give in and buy a vibrator.”

His mouth opens, then closes as he processes the words. “You waited?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t mean to,” you say quickly. “This isn’t, like, a guilt trip or something. I don’t want you to feel guilty.”

He blinks. “No, no, I’m not feeling guilty, I’m feeling… lucky.” Then quieter: “And, okay, maybe a little like a negligent boyfriend.”

You smile, a little sheepish. “Not at all. You were out solving murders. That takes precedence.”

“I would’ve solved them faster had I known.”

You laugh, and he wraps you tighter into his chest.

After a pause, his voice comes low, reverent. “Let me fix it,” he murmurs. His fingers tighten at your waist, and his eyes don’t move from yours. “Come on.”

He walks you backward to the bedroom, his palm warm over the back of your neck like he’s trying to keep you grounded. He kisses you once before you sit back against the pillows, and again after — soft, open-mouthed — as he settles between your legs.

“You sure?” you whisper, even though you already know the answer. “You’re probably so tired. It can wait, really. I’m fine.”

He huffs a breath against your collarbone like it’s laughable. “You, my sweet girl, are not fine. You’ve been walking around like this for over a week. Of course I’m sure. Let me do this for you, please.”

You lean back on your elbows as he lifts your shirt and kisses the newly bared skin, slow and thorough. The reverence in his hands makes your stomach tighten. Like he’s not just touching you for the sake of it — he’s reacquainting himself. Like he missed you with his whole being.

As he peels your underwear down, his gaze catches on the shimmer of your nail polish again.

He parts your thighs slowly. Kisses the crease of your hip before shifting again to kiss your jaw. And then, with a careful breath, he drags two fingers between your folds and lets out the softest, most ruined sound you’ve ever heard him make.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “You’re soaked.”

You want to say yeah, no shit, Sherlock, I told you I’ve been frustrated, but then his fingers dip in and curl just right and your mouth goes completely slack.

He watches your face like he’s cataloging it. Each shift of your expression, every twitch of your hips. He keeps his fingers slow, consistent — long strokes that press deep and purposeful, curved just slightly until your thighs start to tremble.

“You’re so tight,” he breathes. “So wet, sweetheart. You needed this.”

You nod, helpless. “Spencer—”

“I know.” His thumb moves to your clit, light and rhythmic. “Let me take care of it. I’ve got you.”

The build is fast — shamefully fast. You’d almost be embarrassed over how fast it is if it wasn’t for how sure you are that Spencer loves it. His fingers never stutter, never pause, and when he leans forward and kisses you again, you whimper his name.

“Come for me,” he says, soft and certain. “That’s it, angel. Want to feel you come around my fingers.”

And you do.

Your hips jerk forward, mouth releasing a sound you barely recognize as your own, and you feel yourself clench. He slows the pressure and rides the rhythm through it, eyes locked on yours until you collapse back against the mattress, gasping.

But Spencer? Spencer doesn’t stop. He simply adjusts, changes his position, presses a few kisses to your stomach. Then lower. Lower.

You jolt when you feel his mouth over your center.

“Spencer—oh, fuck.”

He looks up at you from between your thighs, curls already messy, mouth flushed.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he says, voice low. “I know it’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

You groan. “You’re such a cocky—”

He licks a slow stripe through you before you can finish the statement, and your back arches clean off the bed.

His fingers stay inside you — deep, curling just right — and his mouth covers your clit with obscene dedication. Tongue and lips and hands and pressure so steady it borders on unbearable. Your second orgasm builds sharper, thinner, a frayed wire stretched between nerve endings. Your thighs start to shake again and he presses in deeper, sucks a little harder, moans loudly against you when your nails graze his scalp.

You feel it in your whole body — his hunger. His focus. The way he wants this for you more than anything. You’re not even sure if you’re breathing.

“I’m—” you start, but you can’t get the warning out in time. Besides, he already knows.

You come again with a cry that tears out of your throat, and this time it overwhelms you — your body writhing, hands pulling at Spencer’s hair hard enough to make him groan. You’re too lost in the moment to notice how lost he is alongside you.

And then, as your limbs shake and your head falls back to the pillow, you hear a low, choked sound that didn’t come from you.

You glance down, dazed.

Spencer’s still between your legs, breathing heavy. He looks completely boneless, cheeks red, eyes half-lidded and glazed, limbs trembling a little, a combination of his sweat and your slick glistening on his skin. Then it hits you — you’ve seen that face before.

“Did you just…” You blink at him. “Spence, did you just come in your pants?”

He rests his forehead against your thigh and nods, clearly trying to catch his breath, clearly a little embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to.”

You start to giggle. It bubbles up through your chest, soft and stunned and fond beyond belief. “Oh my god, you totally humped the bed. Does getting me off really turn you on that much?”

He groans again, this time in embarrassment, but he’s smiling. “You were… god, you were just so perfect. And the way you pulled my hair and scratched my head… What was I supposed to do, not lose my mind?”

You smile and comb your fingers through his hair again, gentler now, your nails grazing his scalp. He hums.

“So,” you murmur, “would it be cruel to say I might keep my nails like this a little longer?”

Spencer kisses your inner thigh, still breathless. “Cruel? No. Cruel would be not letting me do this every time you need it.”

—

At some point you end up tangled sideways across the mattress, half under the covers, one of his legs still dangling off the edge.

Spencer’s cheek is pressed to your hip, his eyes fluttering closed every few seconds, hair mussed beyond recognition. You’ve managed to wriggle your underwear back on — barely — but he hasn’t made any attempt to move.

“You good?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over the crown of his head.

“Mmhmm.”

“You sure about that? You came in your pants and then passed out,” you tease.

“I did not pass out,” he mumbles. “I’m resting. You’re comfortable.”

You smile and let your nails trace gently over his scalp again. He hums.

“You really missed this, huh?”

He opens one eye, gaze lazy and warm. “I missed you.”

His sincerity hits you. Your cheeks heat up, and you manage a soft hum in response — your chest is a little too full to find the words to speak properly.

He finally shifts, crawling up beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You wrap your arms around him and let your nails scratch lightly at the base of his skull, just enough to make him shiver.

“Seriously, though,” he says, barely a whisper now. “Keep your nails long like this. Please? I’ll take care of you.”

You kiss his hair.

“Anything you want, Spence.”

ᝰ.ᐟ

masterlist

PSA: likes do very little for promoting posts on tumblr! if you'd like to support a fic, please reblog!

[folkloresthings]

I can’t stop thinking about Lando Norris going down on his girl for ages after a good race. Pussydrunk lando could treat me anyway he wanted tbh💅🏼

ANON!!!! you cheeky thing thank you for this

18+ UNDER THE CUT!

lando who will make you cum at least three times with his tongue before he even thinks about himself, no matter how much you protest that you want to make him feel good too. he’ll stay there between your thighs until you’re physically kicking him away, writhing and trembling from the last orgasm.

lando who wakes you up from underneath the sheets, bringing you from one daze to another, tongue lapping up the wetness that still lingered from the night before. the warmth of his spot on the mattress is still there, but there’s a heat stronger than anything stirring in your thighs, closing around his head and your fingers threading through his hair.

lando who shimmies back up your body while you’re still coming around from your orgasm to kiss you, his lips shining and slick with your cum. he kisses you sweetly, making sure you get a fair taste of his favourite drink. cum—drunk lando with heavy eyes and a lazy smile, already going back down for round two.

lando who begs you to sit on his face, assuring you that you won’t be too heavy, fingers digging bruises into your hips to hold you there. he doesn’t care if it’s a little suffocating, for it would be a damn good way to go.

and god lando who knows just how to use his tongue and is so cocky about it. the second you get mouthy about it and start teasing him, lando lets his tongue slip right inside your hole. he fucks you with it until there are tears streaming down your cheeks and you’re screaming out his name, nearly pulling his hair from his head.

he doesn’t need a trophy or a podium, not when you’re the sweetest prize of all.

[starkwlkr]

Hi!! Can we have headcanons for all of the Jackman babies?

of course you can lovely anon 😘🫶🏼

alex

so he’s the firstborn and it’s canon that he was born in the year 2000 simply because i am so bad with dates (plus that’s the year my sister was born so it’s easy for me to remember)

he once told a girl at his school that his dad was wolverine to try to impress her and she didn’t believe him so he made hugh pick him up from school for a week even though he had his own car

he’s a big fan of horror movies, his favorite horror directors are mike flanagan and wes craven

he enjoys musicals every now and then though he’ll never admit it to anyone

him and reese are only two years apart so they attended school together for a few years. instead of ignoring reese, they would sit together at lunch and even had a few classes together.

he doesn’t go into acting like people expected him to. he goes to college and studies architecture (thank you to the anon that suggested this!!)

reese

my sweet middle child 🫶🏼

so he was very quiet and awkward in high school and his friend group was small. the only time he really talked was if he was with his friends/alex or if he was called on to answer a question

during parents teacher conferences, his teachers told you and hugh that the only complaint they had about reese was that he was too quiet and needed to participate. of course you got mad because if reese doesn’t want to participate then he doesn’t need to!!

dr. pepper lover i said what i said

his school didn’t have a film club so he made one with his friends and the first film they watched was chicago because why wouldn’t he want to show off how talented his mom is?? bonus: you attend one of their gatherings and talk about the production of the movie ☺️

btw if you didn’t read the other fic where i mentioned chicago the musical, it’s canon that marvel actress!reader plays roxie <3

he’s a big momma’s boy

his dream is to be a director and make a movie with you and hugh as the leads but he’s scared that the media is going to say that he only got the opportunity because he’s a nepo baby

his idols are marilyn monroe and his mom ❤️

his comfort movie is the muppets movie

olivia

olivia my queen 🫶🏼 so she is not afraid to tell it like it is

she’s close in age to dafne keen so they become best friends on the set of logan and have been ever since <3 of course dafne ended up becoming an honorary member of the jackman family

she follows in her parents’ footsteps and becomes an actress. she really doesn’t care if people call her a nepo baby, she knows she is 💅🏼

her first role was an A24 movie (of your choice) and she was going press interviews when deadpool & wolverine came out so she was asked a lot about the movie, mostly if she was in it

she was the valedictorian of her graduating class and included logan’s last words in her speech: “i’ve watched my brother, cousins and friends graduate and now it’s my turn. so this is what it feels like.”

have y’all seen the pic of romy mars, sofia coppola’s daughter, on the set of priscilla and jacob elordi is bringing her cake and singing happy birthday to her?? well olivia took some inspiration from romy and was on set of the new avengers movie that marvel actress!reader is directing and pedro pascal ended up being her cake and singing happy birthday to her 🤭

here’s the pic lol

ok that’s all for now <3 thanks for sticking around!! love y’all ☺️😘

@kellyxo1 @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @ru-kru @evasmlp