#oops! all sexy

[rainymeadows-art]

so true to my word, I've started work on a crossover fic where Phoenix Wright has to defend Lupin III in court, and I decided to do a redraw - trying my hardest to replicate the Ace Attorney art style - showing what I imagine their designs to be. Notes (and the art I redrew) under the cut!

Lupin

yes, that's Edgeworth's jacket. Ever wonder why Edgeworth switched from a blazer to a long coat? Now you know

and yes, those are jeans. Lupin discovered that jeans are more expensive than suit pants in the 21st century, so he stole the third most valuable pair of jeans he could find (the most expensive ones were ripped and full of holes and nowhere near classy enough for him

he has glasses because a) people's eyesight can change over time, it happens lol and b) I thought it would look hot and I was correct.

Jigen

I watched a video about the times Jigen wore a vest and how it was great because it helps to distinguish him from Lupin, so I decided to go all out with it

I paired it with rolled up sleeves and gloves to give him a sense of practicality. also the gloves give him a hitman vibe which i dig

yes, that's a lollipop. he's trying to cut down on the smokes. it's not going well.

Goemon

the half-up hair is kinda my idea for a modernised version of a samurai topknot. not a topknot, of course, because that's not Goemon's style, but the idea of it is there

the harness he wears is there to hold Zantetsuken on the occasions when he needs both his hands for something. he can keep his sword wife with him at all times

he switched from a kimono to a yukata because they're lighter and breezier; Goemon is very worried about global warming, but knows he can't do anything about it himself, so he just dresses for warmer weather

I used the character art for the TV special Goodbye Partner as a basis for this (and it's pretty funny switching back and forth between the linearts and seeing Jigen retract into his hat)

please appreciate my struggle to make sense of lupin and jigen's ridiculous legs

[fisheito]

He's a magician

[starwarsanthropology]

FOX/FIVES

That'd certainly be one way of fixing it!!!

Oh I had so much fun with this as a lighting study.... thank you so much for the request!

[a-pepper-honey]

Vampire AU shenanigans from my latest fic, Can't you hear it howling?

This scene is meant to be so creepy in the fic but ngl vampires are sexy and hot and alluring and long-haired men in 18th century shirts, so. you get art that belongs on the cover of a bad romance novel instead

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

"Can you name at least 5 things Valentino is as a person other than a rapist moth?"

Uh, sweetie he's not a real person, and he's never actually raped anyone and he never will, because he's a goddamn fucking cartoon moth?????????

[itfitsitshipsart]

Dress up is the best thing about running a cabaret. Yes, i use it as an excuse for pretty outfits

And send the results to my sweet Kashi~

The photos separate under the cut

[victimized-martyr]

I love all your kyman hc's so much!!!!😭❤ I just need to hear more, so here are my questions: if kyman got married how would they act around each other? And do you think they'd adopt kids and if yes: what would they name them? And would they raise them jewish or christian or both?

Aaahhh I know there are too many questions I'm sorry 😭😭

Don’t apologize, I love talking about kyman :D

Regardless of context, the core of their dynamic is: Cartman is the instigator, Kyle reacts, a little back and forth, escalate the issue to Nth degrees of insanity, Kyle lands the final blow. Though sometimes, depending on the issue, Kyle lands the last punch thinking he’s won, only for Cartman to win the war last minute. Another way the show’s mixed things up, is that Kyle’s victory is undermined either by South Park itself, or Cartman. I see their marriage as an opportunity to expand their unique dynamic and introduce new plotlines/ jokes that couldn’t be done if they were still kids.

I see Cartman taking Randy’s place as the adult that’s always up to no good, the fixture of South Park’s weirdness. self serving hijinks flare up just about every week. Meanwhile, the Sharon (or straight man) to offset that cannot be anyone else but Kyle. This time however, unlike the marshes, and perhaps most couples in South Park, the Brofloski’s are truly in love. That’s kinda the joke. The couple that started out insulting each other and trying to kill each other on multiple occasions end up in the happiest relationship. I see them fitting nicely among the pantheon of sitcom couples— Mitchel and Cameron, Marge and Homer, Ralph and Alice, Gomez and Morticia. Their relationship, in Trey fashion, pays homage to and in the same breath, mocks those classic couples.

TLDR, Their dynamic is in tact, it’s just evolved to a new label. Instead of sort of friends-ish, they’re a couple. They’re still loud, obsessed with each other, fight over issues, hang out and share similar tastes. Only this time they got rings on their fingers. And if they don’t fistfight, how do they deal with their classic arguments? Well, like any sensible american couple, of course! they fuck each other’s brains out! ( just kidding. I have this vision of Cartman doing the most outrageous shit and Kyle chasing him offscreen in anger, Cartman shouting “domestic abuse domestic abuse!”)

I’m not sure what they’d name their kids. Does it matter? I do know what personalities I’d like them to have though— the 1st, their oldest, is outgoing, entitled, bossy, manipulative, a performative people pleaser, makes everyone’s problems their responsibility, and is quick witted. (A 2w3) Much like Eric, they are exceptionally charismatic and love being in the limelight. And like Kyle, they love getting involved in the lives of others, seen as helpful. The 2nd child is less outspoken, prefers to keep opinions to themselves, a dispassionate observer. ( poster child for 8w9) Like Eric, they’re materialistic, and prone to laziness. Still, they are an intellectual like Kyle, and far more principled in comparison to their sibling/Eric. They’re probably the most capable and dangerous in the family. They don’t shoot themselves in the foot like Cartman, and they don’t fight against the currents of South Park like Kyle. If they wanted to, they could take over the world and succeed where the Brofloskis failed. They just don’t care though lol.

I could never, ever see them as a two religion household. Yeah, Cartman has been portrayed as a bigoted Christian (or in his words, “[used] Christianity as an excuse to be a piece of shit”), but carrying that extremity to adulthood isn’t as funny. I don’t know how to articulate that other than, many extreme right wingers on twitter weren’t able to read Cartman’s bigotry in Cupid Ye as hyperbolic and instead took it as fact, and praised the stuff he whispered into Tolkien’s ears. His actions in Cissy were recently trending and was seen as heroic and like, justification why trans ppl can’t use whatever bathrooms they want. You can’t escalate the crazy stuff from real life anymore— it’s become reality. So the funniest thing to do, is either personify it as something else or, run in the opposite direction. If anything, PC has shown us that it’s funnier that the very same kid who once belittled Judaism in fact, became devoutly Jewish and proceeded to rub it in everyone’s faces rather than him ending up as some evil businessman. You rob bigots the chance to idolize Cartman, but give Cartman the freedom to hone his brand of idiocy on other things. So! Kyle slaps the antisemitism outta him, they get married, bam. They are a Jewish family.

[mrsterlingeverything]

Going to this pretty little liars ass funeral

[ilikebobcuts642]

Crappy Bruno doodles for a month: Day 9

Some full body practice (he’s doing the “I’ll wait” pose lmao)

[mx-lamour]

8 - Cloak

[That's right, we've got audio this time babyyy!]

At first glance, the cloak was black, and that was all. It hung over Strahd's impeccably squared shoulders and draped long and straight past his ankles. It was made of fine wool from only the blackest of sheep and overdyed besides, to achieve an even richer, deeper shade.

What most did not see, at first glance—which was the most opportunity most people ever had to look—was the way the color faded brownish toward the hem. The protective woven trim along its bottom edge had twice been replaced, but even now it was beginning to fray again from frequent use, with bits of mud and dust crusted along the join of stitching, despite diligent efforts to brush it carefully out. The brownish hue was of the natural dark wool, scrubbed raw of its additional dyes by the combined menace of rain and sleet and sunlight, by kneeling and sitting and otherwise battering the fabric with his legs as Strahd walked. It was faded this way around the collar line as well, not only by precipitation from the sky but perspiration from his body also, where it clasped around Strahd's neck at the front with intricate loops and buttons, although the effect there was somewhat hidden by the folds of its hood, whether drawn up to protect Strahd's head or swooping back to rest upon his shoulder blades in comfortable disuse.

Most also did not notice the stains of iron blood in splatters on the parts which covered up Strahd's chest and arms, but this was by design. Black would always be a practical choice for a noble man engaged in war. But, unlike the careful dyes, these evidences of the lives he’d claimed would never, it seemed, fade.

Hardly anyone had seen the inside of the cloak, except perhaps a passing glimpse, when a long leg kicked its front gores brusquely forward, and the center part flapped open to reveal a secret corner near Strahd's feet. The lining from the shoulders down was sturdy linen, and this had been dyed red. A lord could afford his indulgences.

Deft hands slipped beneath the old wool cloak, prying deep into its scarlet depths. They found Strahd's waist and settled there.

What the cloak would see, if it had sight, was a partner of its own, a well-worn and half shorter cape in marled gray and fawn. It draped about square shoulders and fell upon long arms, but sometimes only one of them, clinging by the collar to a rope which tied beneath the other. The shabby cape, of slightly newer stock but less well-kept, having been tossed about on chairs and bedposts, trampled in snow and singed by fire, and snagged by wind and steel on blood-slick fields and rugged roads, was worn by Strahd's second in command. Its lining held no secrets, and neither did its shell.

The soft rustle of fabric underscored the tender smack of joining lips. A light breeze whispered ancient nothings to the spires of the pines.

Strahd stumbled on the frayed edge of his concealing garment. Awkwardly, it tugged him down, scattering its winged entrails wide upon the ground. Alek followed, laughing low, and unhooked the buttons at Strahd's throat. He kissed him again ardently, and Strahd forgave himself the lapse in form. He allowed his face a surreptitious grin, gently grasping Alek's jaw.

Through their kisses, Alek pulled the cord on his own cape, which slid softly off his shoulder. It landed as a heap upon the pool of red. Leaning on one arm for balance, Alek scooped up his small sacrifice and placed it behind Strahd's head. He then sank down, himself, to slide one knee beneath Strahd's thigh and guide it up onto his hip. Strahd's heel snagged the fraying edge again, forming subtle ripples in its wake.

Their other garments hardly mattered, none of them so constant as a cloak, but each left one by one with reverence, until the only thing between the two men’s souls was their own skin and bones. Like a curtain in an open window, billowing gently with the breeze, they undulated against each other, breathing now in stuttered gasps.

Strahd’s arm replaced the rope that had been tied across his second’s chest, and Alek’s lips replaced the loops which often rested near the base of his lord’s throat. Strahd’s moan was deeply that of velvet; he tipped his head back on the wool, the fibers catching on his hair. Alek’s fingers clawed in crimson linen—he hardly spoke at all, which was very much unlike him. While trees around them swayed and groaned, their branches stroked each other.

The sky above was clear and crisp, unshrouded were the stars; they winked like faraway jewels, glass beads held high by silver thread. And then they vanished. Strahd’s eyelids, like a hood, pulled down on his dark gaze. The winding fabric of his loins further twisted and wound tight. The inside of his weathered cloak would find new secret stains, not least of which his sweat, which pooled cooly down along his spine, and soaked into the centerline, while Alek kissed his breast.

When all was done and quiet, Strahd reached out both his arms to draw the edges of the great cloak inward, wrapping them around the back of his beloved guard. Alek laid within it, his body draped on Strahd’s, a cloak within a cloak, the only one to have borne witness to this much of such a lovely scarlet lining.

* * *

[Ao3 Collection] [prompt list by @syrips]

[vulpixelates]

the monday blues are getting me especially hard after a four day weekend of being curled up in bed and playing pretend with my wife 😔😔

daydreaming about the lesbians in our heads SAVE ME

[krtri]

YOURE THE REALEST PERSON EVER FOR TRANTHARRY POSTING!!!!!! ive been saying this since day 1. You get me. Thank you. Cheering and screaming.

omg thank you so so so much 😳😭🫡 i almost felt bad for the spam at first but idk trantharry make me crazy!!! like it started with me like “i think they could kiss. for the laughs.” but then i gave it some thought and like… i think they could be really compatible! they have several common interests, they’re both SOOOOO divorced, trant would know how to help harry get and stay sober, harry could maybe become the father that stepped up (emphasis on maybe), i think they’d both be total total freaks, trant would actually be interested in how harry’s mind works, they could be so annoying together, etc etc etc. 🥰

[mvalentine]

everytime i re-read this book i get more and more annoyed at how underrated it is….. like they make me so mentally ill. you guys just don’t get it!

[cloudbells]

Chronicles of a girl who has zero clue how to draw hair

Also I'm getting better. There were like 5 other (worse) versions of this same drawing before this one. I know the perspective is off (why can we see the back of his neck with a side view user cloudbells????) amongst various other things but it's IMPROVEMENT and I'll take it.

[avnillae]

Cannibal! Angel

. you’d been anxious the day prior, eager maybe, but the hunger overcame the fear in the grand scheme of things

. you made sure to leave no traces, no amateur google searches, no open discussion or hypotheticals to raise eyebrows or questions on any online subreddits, you played the scene out continuously, repeatedly, obsessively for months in your imagination

. every what if scenario with meticulous solutions, you’d get away with it with this much preparation

. the only question would be how to prepare it once it. happened, but you figured if home chefs could whip up something delicious with liver or chicken hearts on the cooking game shows you’ve mindlessly indulged in, flesh would be no different

. if you could even wait to prepare and cook the skin

. you chewed on your nails, the skin around it inevitably finding its way between your teeth, pulling away at the metallic taste eventually flooding your lips, you stared and watched as the crimson ran from your thumb to your forearm.

. it was mesmerizing in a way, how beautiful the shade of red could be

. a universal shade unique to the living and past tense thereof

. you wanted to bathe in it, to be submerged in others

. an act so private, so intimate, so utterly inviting

. you’d reprimand yourself had you cared anymore, your patience had run thin, your body shaking with adrenaline

. with the ring of the doorbell, you stood at attention, in anticipation, a grin plastered on your face as you unlocked the door to greet your unsuspecting date

“Hey ! Welcome in, I’m so happy to see you !” You greeted them with a brazen hug, causing the other to blush profusely, “Thanks for having me, I was surprised when you said you wanted to meet again.. I thought I had blown it the other day..” they laughed meekly.

. They had, had you been a normal sane person, you’d have never met up with them again. But once it came down to it, they were the perfect victim.

. Oblivious, willing, pathetic to the point of being absolutely pitiful.

. Pitiful, it was no surprise they were infatuated with you, you felt sorry for them.

. Sorry that you’d never feel the same level of intensity for another, sorry that you couldn’t form meaningful connections with others, sorry that you were different from them, sorry that you had this need that gnawed at your insides begging and pleading for you to do the same to others.

“What ?! No way, I thought I was the one who blew it, I felt bad with how things ended I know I wasn’t the most.. welcoming.” You grasped at their coat, helping them out of it, your hands purposely lingering across their broad shoulders a moment too long, a shiver racked down their spine which they quickly excused as it being ‘cold outside’ a small smile was exchanged.

. If you were being honest, the first outing consisted of you sitting there counting down the minutes spent as they had blabbered on and on about financing and how much they had saved in 401 and IRA accounts. Strange given since you’re both in your early twenties, but you digressed. At the end, they walked you to your car, with not a full sentence having come out of your mouth besides “yeah? crazy ! no way!?” the entire date.

. Awkwardly rubbing their head, they looked at you with expectant eyes and a small lean, of course they’d want a kiss.

. Much to your dismay, you had leaned in as well. The things we do in the name of love and all such things, if only you could feel such a thing.

. Had this gone another way, you knew you’d be secured had you married.

. But it hadn’t.

“Au contraire, mon amie, you were simply divine..” They purred turning to face you as you hooked their coat away. “No other woman has been able to keep up intellectually in conversation such as you,” Because yes and ya are apparently genius and innovative, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

. Right, you pulled a tight smile, wrinkling your eyes downwards, partway in attempt to appear bashful another to hide the disgust in your eyes.

“You flatter me,” You grasped at their wrist, “But enough about that, let me get you a drink!” You sauntered ahead, feeling their gaze over your form, nauseated, leading them away from the doorway.

“This is a nice place you have, how much do your folks pay for it?” You heard, as you reached into the cabinets and pulled out two modestly sized wine glasses.

“My folks?” Pouring tawny in both cups, you mentally cursed at yourself for using the good wine on this swine.

“Yeah, like your ma and pa, you can’t seriously pay for this place on your own.” Turning, you followed their voice onto the plush cushions of the settee before handing them their glass, you let out a strained laugh.

“I’d be lying if I said I did this on my own, but it’s because of them that we were able to meet in the first place.” And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that. It wouldn’t matter anyway.

“To us.” They raised their glass, “To us.” You joined, clinking your cups together.

. It wouldn’t be long now.

. Sipping gracefully on the cherry wine, you eyed your date as the gulped down the entire glass.

. With a content sigh, they placed down their glass onto the table ahead. “A little sweeter than the usual I’m accustomed to.” They giggled, loosening their tie, a pink hue coloring their cheeks.

How cute.

“Oh?” You cooed, as you placed your glass aside theirs.

. You shifted, carefully closing the gap between you two, “Is it sweeter than me?” Eyes peering, you fixed into straddling their lap, their breath hitched, watching as your hands slid against their chest before you grasped hold of their tie. Pulling them forward, your lips hung dangerously close to theirs.

. Their hands cautiously placed themselves against your thighs, their gaze fixated on your stained rosy lips.

“Well… I’d have to have another taste before I can say for sure..” They murmured, closing in on the space between your lips.

. Disgusting disgusting disgusting

. You could taste the faint menthol from their cigarette they must’ve had a few minutes prior to your meeting, the taste of the alcohol, which wasn’t even that bad had it not been wasted on someone who was going to die in a few minutes.

. Nevertheless, your body pressed against theirs, your grasp on the fabric loosened leading to your arms wrapping around their neck effectively deepening the kiss.

. They groaned against your lips, their hips bucking against yours.

. You could feel the wetness pooling in their briefs even through their clothes.

. Typical to be this wet just from a kiss, you bet they were a virgin with how generally unlikeable they were. Maybe you were being too harsh, they had probably been with another. You didn’t put it past them to go through the pros and cons with another as to why their date should sleep with them.

. Pro, I’m rich. Con, everything but I’m so rich you’d be stupid not to get fucked

. You held back a laugh, before you felt them push against you.

“Something…”

Right, took long enough.

“Something ?”

“..Something isn’t right.” Their hands falling limply from your thighs to their sides, they started leaning onto their side, sinking into the couch.

“Something isn’t right ?” You repeated, getting up from your place on their lap. “That can’t be true, everything is going according to plan!” You smiled, leaning down to meet their lidded eyes.

“Gosh you look simply, what was the word..?” Tucking a strand of hair behind their ear, you admired the dazed look on their stupid face, “Divine !”

. Leaving your place by their side, you paced towards the record player on the other side of the living room.

“You like music?” You asked, taking a vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it on the stand.

“I always have to have something on in the background,” You mused, setting the needle at the last track. After, turning to your beautiful sleeping date on the sofa. Their breathing had slowed as their eyes shut, only soft moans had left their lips.

¿ Por qué será ? ¿ Por qué será ?

“Otherwise I get,” Pausing to unzip the sparkling gown adorning your figure, you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh,

“Otherwise I get scared. Silly, isn’t it?”

. You stepped out of your attire, lest you dirty your beautiful dress. The only thing covering your body being lace garments and a garter belt sitting along your waist.

Just in case they had swayed your decision.

They hadn’t.

No me da pena, me da ternura

“Gives me no sadness, gives me no tenderness, roughly.” You sang along, once again assuming your position on their body.

“Tonight you’ll be my first,” You cooed, unbuttoning their dress shirt. Exposing their chest to you, tracing along their abdomen, you hummed along,

“Es que no has aprendío na o es que tienes un problema”

“You should be grateful, after this no one can claim they’ve been inside me…” you mumble lazily leaning down to lick their skin.

“Atleast not in the way that you have..” you whisper against their flesh, stroking their rib cage. They were awfully skinny for a meal, but beggars can’t be choosers. You trailed downwards, nipping at their hip bones, teasing your hunger. You ran your tongue upwards, the area between their hips and rib, the softest area on their abdomen.

No me da pena, me da ternura

. You sunk your teeth into their skin, the all too familiar metallic taste invading your senses. Crimson painting your lips, staining the furniture, dripping onto the marble flooring. You bit down harder, a squelching noise accompanying the singers beautiful vocals.

Las llamas son bonitas porque no tienen orden

. You pulled away, as their flesh clung desperately onto their body before snapping at the distance. You savored the taste.

. The wet sopping display of their body laying so perfectly underneath your body.

. So helpless, prey sprawled defeatedly under its predator.

. What a sad ending, being eaten alive.

. You plunged your hand into their warm intestines, feeling it envelop your fingers, soft. Squishy. Gore pouring out of the hole you’ve punctured into their body.

. You let out a satisfied moan, further tearing them apart until their guts mimicked their owner. A sad display on the couch, strewn about in a beautiful ruby mess. You licked your lips, your body aflame at this point. You dug in deeper, both hands submerged.

Y el fuego es bonito porque todo lo rompe

. From the tip of your fingertips to the bone on your wrist, a warm hot pool of intestines and organs. A maze untwined beneath your body.

You took a bite, then another, and another.

Kidney, lung, heart.

. Hours must have passed since you’ve explored their body, all that remained was a mangled carcass.

. You sat on the floor, blood smearing your cheeks, having run down your chin and onto your chest and well, everywhere. You pulled back your hair, the ends dyed red from the remains.

. You crawled towards your bookshelf, staring straight into the lens inconspicuously hidden away. Its red light blinking rhythmically as you grabbed your strewn about cell phone from nearby.

. You input the digits given to you from before.

Ring… ring… ring…

“H- Hello ?!” A seemingly panicked voice came from the other side, a small smirk found itself on your face.

“Hey, sorry for calling you so late, are you free tomorrow?”

[endvresurvivor]

have you heard about 𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾 ‘𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙺𝙸𝙴’ 𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙰𝚂 ? he/him lives at the qz. i think they’ve lived there for twenty three years. they’re forty nine yrs old & seem very protective. i’ve also heard they can be very violent as well. they’ve been assigned as a cord alley smuggler. they often daydream about a hot cup of coffee by a ranch while country music plays in the background. i’m curious to know more 🪓 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘺. 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭. 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳. 22.

name francisco javier rivas

nicknames frankie, frank

age 49

identity cisgender male

date of birth september 25th

sexual orientation bisexual biromantic

status single

occupation cord alley smuggler but he takes on any available job as cover up

city of origin roswell, new mexico

personality unintentionally charming. sarcastic. reserved. sometimes cynical. broody on a daily basis. always observant. golden-hearted.

postive traits caring. selfless. trustworthy. heroic.

negative traits brutal. ruthless. vulgar. stubborn.

character arc the lone wolf. the protector. the strategist.

𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

he used to live with his daughter in the outskirts of town, working as a mechanic in his own repair shop.

the day FEDRA evacuated the town, the duo was separated— frankie was caught up in a riot organized by the citizens who rebelled against the government & his daughter was taken away while he wasn’t looking. they were never to see each other again or would they

as a former member of a radical survivalist group, he is extremely familiar with the theory of the survival of the fittest. he has done anything and everything to get by— including theft & murder; he has become an edured survivor at its best.

despite everything, he still manages to keep his love for music alive. he has found a guitar in one of his many travels across the country & makes the most of his free time to practice. he’s also very fond of animals & he would most definitely kill for a cup of coffee, quite literally.

+ to be added !

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘

JOEL MILLER ( video game/series ) / HAN SOLO ( star wars ) / RICK GRIMES ( the walking dead ) / DEREK MORGAN ( criminal minds ) / ARTHUR MORGAN ( rdr2 ) / GERALT OF RIVIA ( the witcher )

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

smuggling partners. business partners.

sibling bond. partners in crime.

protégée. adopted child. apprentice.

friendship. best friends. friends with benefits.

enemies. rivals. mortal enemies.

romantic. on & off. love interest. partner. hookup.

𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜

JOSEPHINE BARLOWE — protégée/daughter figure & smuggling partner

LOVE YUNG — daughter figure

ANA JÚLIA VELOSO — it’s complicated

MAYA BAILEY — confidant