#the colors and all the subtle differences.. gorgeous

[jacktoria4ever]

Nails

pairing: Rafe x fem!Reader

Summary: you have a nail appointment and ask Rafe if he wants to go with.

A/n: random fucking idea

Enjoy this really fucking stupid story I randomly thought of <333

Dividers by @saradika

You knew you wanted to get your nails done but you didn't know what color to get. This debate started when you were invited to your friends wedding a week before your summer vacation started. Two completely different occasions, and considering you had less than a week until the wedding you had to choose fast. It didn't help that the wedding dress-code was 'minimalistic and old-fashioned' so you couldn't choose a super bold color.

You were annoyed at everything when your boyfriend Rafe walked in.

"Hey baby what're you doing?" He said whole plopping down on the bed in your shared room.

"Looking at subtle but summer-y colors for my nai-" you stopped yourself mid-sentence and just look at him with mischief in your eyes.

"Hmmm" He hummed contemplating whether or not to say anything about your face. He decided on the latter. "What does that face mean, gorgeous?" He said after a bit of complete silence.

"Wanna go with me and pick out the color?" You say eagerly knowing damn well he won't turn down a chance to hang out with his best girl.

"Yes. What time is the appointment?" He asks simply.

"The appointment starts at 2:00 buy we can get there a bit early so you can see all of the colors we'll. And if you want you can choose the style and design." You say in not-so-chill tone.

"I will choose a nice sage green for the color and maybe coffin shape and them little flowers for design." He says feigning excitement.

You stare at him, mouth agape, trying to figure out where he learned all of this knowledge.

"Baby, what's wrong?" He asks curiously.

"How did you know that? Also what color will the flowers be?" You ask incredibly confused.

"Mmm the flowers will be baby blue with little yellow middle thingys and Baby, I've been waiting for you to ask me for so long that I have learned all there is to know about nails. Also I have designs in my mind for every occasion so I'm REALLY prepared." He says as if you're not staring at him in pure disbelief.

"You blow my mind everyday with the amount of knowledge you can fit into that head with the size of that ego." You snap jokingly. Would he really believe it if you were serious?

"Wow, Baby, you're so nice to me." He says sarcastically while pulling you in for a sweet kiss, probably the sweetest kiss you've experienced with him.

"Okay, we have to leave in about...Forty-five minutes so be ready by then and I'll close out my pinterest and get dressed." You said pulling away from him reluctantly.

"Okay, Princess." He says giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking to your closet and getting the two of you matching outfits in a beautiful muted orange color.

"Ooh, cute outfit, my love." You say happily grabbing it and walking to the bathroom that is attached to your room.

When you walked out you swear you can feel all of the air being sucked out of the room because of the incredible gasp you hear your adorable boyfriend take. "Beautiful, absolutely beautiful, have I told yiu today that I love you?" He says dumbfounded almost.

"I don't think you have. Do you love me?" You say trying to fuck with him.

"You have no clue how much I love you, Darling." He says quietly, almost silently.

》》——>>

At the nail salon you picked out the colors for your nails and sat down. You picked, as stated before, a sage green, a baby blue and a yellow that could be seen from a mile away.

The whole time the lady wah painting you nails Rafe wasn't even paying attention, he was staring at you as if you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. And to him you were.

He was lovesick and at this point him being utterly obsessed with you made Topper and Kelse annoyed constantly.

After you were done you walked out to his truck and he opened the door for you and you climbed into the comfortable seat whole Rafe scurried to the drivers side and climbed into the truck the exact same way as you.

"Lemme see, Baby." He says making grabbing hands toward your hands.

"Okay, okay. Be patient, Rafey." You mumbled whole basically throwing your hands at him.

"Oh my Goodness, Baby, they look amazing!" He cheered in excitement.

"It was all you, Handsome." You said reassuringly.

And you both lives happily ever after-ish

Thank you for reading this hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If there are any typos I'm so sorry I was writing this half asleep and reread it and was like "Okay then!" And now I'm posting it

Taglist: NOBODY YET BUT LMK

Also, sorry if it seemed rushed

[xoxo-sarah]

Pretty In Pink

Part two to Brother's Best Friend. Read that first to better understand.

↝a/n: happy new year! This fic is slightly based on a suggestion by @canmargesimpson thank you, hon. I hope you enjoy. 🩶

↝pairing: Robin Buckleyx Harrington!reader

↝warning:not proofread, angst, commitment issues, Robin not knowing how to handle her feelings, jealousy, cursing, girly-girl reader(?), Harrington! Reader,

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own "y/n" and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.1.24

Header credits go to @saradika 🩶

You were so gorgeous. So irritatingly gorgeous. Every color looked good on you. Every perfect hair style made Robin want to mess it up while kissing you so hard. Ever lipgloss shade was sure to be wore off by the time Robin got done with you. Was there anything that you didn't look good in?

Not that Robin was sure of. No, the only thing she was sure of was that pink was your color. You had many shirts and skirts in different shades of pink. Accessories ranging from hot pink or soft misty rose. If you were to ask Robin which was her favorite, she would, without a doubt, say the soft pink was your color. It complemented your skin, especially when you had been tanning out by the pool. Like now.

You wore said soft pink in the form of a bikini. It left little to Robin's imagination. Mentally, she was thanking you.

Your soft, tan skin was all that was in her mind. The water droplets that fell down your body when you moved in the pool was playing on loop in her head. She had never been so jealous of water before.

"I just don't know what to do." Steve kept yapping. Not that Robin was paying him any mind. Her eyes had been watching you under her sunglasses. You felt her eyes on you. Maybe that's why you were doing subtle things that would drive her crazy. Like push your arms together while leaning against the side of the pool, or push your soaking wet hair away from your face. You always wore that stupid smirk on your face. God, you were so pretty. "Robin, are you even listening?"

"Hm?" She hummed, unknowingly looking back at where he sat in the lawn chair beside her. The summer weather had Steve and you competing to get the better tan. Robin knew you won, no matter how much Steve would walk around outside without a shirt. It was starting to irritate Robin. "What?"

"I don't know why I'm even trying anymore. Nance was the one- ya know?" Oh, here we go. Robin rolled her eyes under her sunglasses. She adored him, she really did. But if she had to listen to Steve blabber about the one that got away one more time, she might just have to drown him in his own pool.

"Maybe it's time to move on." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve scoffed, "right, like you? How's Vickie?"

Your head shot over, your bikini top strap popping against your skin as you tried to fix it.

Since the night where you two had kissed, it was a mutual agreement that went unsaid. You two would kiss behind closed doors when given the chance, flirt with your eyes, call in the middle of the night occasionally when Steve was asleep. There weren't any labels ever mentioned. You two were just... In the moment. That said, Vickie became a sore subject after a while. Steve had found it weird that Robin suddenly stopped talking about the red-headed girl. However, he didn't let Robin lack of interest in her now mess up his agonizingly teasing.

"I wouldn't know, Steve."

"Right."

Not muttering another word, he laid back in the chair, closing his eyes.

The sound of water splashing had Robin's head turning back towards you, her body relaxing as she watched you get out of the pool. Your scowling expression didn't go good with the rest of you at the moment. As soon as you caught her eyes, you were quick to grab your towel and dart into the house, not caring about the water.

Robin was quick to go in after you, after she heard the first snore exit Steve's lips.

"Vickie, huh?"

Robin sighed, knowing where this was going. "Y/n-"

"I know what you're going to say- exactly the same as every other time." This time it was your turn to sigh. You genuinely sounded exhausted. "But I don't understand why you keep letting him tease you about her." You pouted. Your lips were so pink, so kissable..

Robin walked closer to where you stood against the counter, towel wrapped loosely around your frame. "It's the only thing he knows how to do."

Your pout deepened. "I'm serious. We can make him stop, you know. We could just tell him."

"No." She was quick to step back.

"why are you so scared to tell him? It's Steve."

Before Robin could reply, Steve slid the glass door open, looking for you two.

You all went your separate ways after that. Sure, you and Robin had had the same conversation plenty of times, but it felt different.

And it proved to be so.

Robin hadn't answered your calls, hadn't came over- making Steve meet up with her to hang out.

You were beginning to grow frustrated as it went on for weeks.

"David Bowie played a goblin king for crying out lou-" You weren't supposed to be home, atleast not this early. Steve's expression said the same when you walked in the front door. Robin, who he has been arguing with, went stiff from beside him. She looked so pretty in her Blue button up shirt that was tucked into lighter washed shorts. Blue was her color, navy or sky blue, didn't matter. What didn't sit right with you was the person sitting on the other side of her. Vickie smiled politely at you, waving. Steve cut your staring off, popping the tab off of his can drink in boredom, the smaller piece falling into the empty can, ringing through your empty head. "Thought you were out for the day?"

"Was. Got tired." You were blunt, going straight for your room after.

Before you closed your door you heard Steve try to lighten the mood from your sour attitude. "She's been in a funk lately, I don't know."

Robin watched you walk away. She couldn't help where her eyes traveled. you were wearing pink. It was slightly darker than your swimsuit, but looked just as good on you nonetheless. She was quick to excuse herself to the bathroom, making her way to your room.

She welcomed herself in your room after she got a hum in response to a quiet knock on your bedroom door. Her step into your room was quick, making sure Steve and Vickie were still content with the movie on the tv. She turned, watching you watch her. You were still looking at her, frustrated at her. She's seen you when you hated her. This was different. It almost hurt her that she hurt you.

You broke the silence, sitting on the side of your bed. A pile of laundry was sat beside you- the same pretty pale pink bikini was sat on top, making Robin's breath hitch. "I pour my heart out to you and you ignore me for weeks? You get with her."

No amount of practicing this conversation with "you" in her mirror had her ready for how your voice showed how betrayed you felt.

It wasn't fair, what Robin was doing. She knew that. It was all just so complicated. Steve was her best friend. She couldn't hurt him like that. It's all complicated.

"I know. I'm sorry." She moved to stand infront of you when you looked away.

"You brought her here." Your tears fell down your soft, pinkened cheeks.

"I know." She couldn't help her words repeating. She sunk down to her knees in front of your, taking your hand that tried to wipe your face."I'm sorry."

"Right. That's why you're in my house with her. Cause you're so sorry."

"That's not- she's not here with me. We ran into her and Steve invited her over for a movie. He's still on his kick, trying to embarrass me. You know how he is."

Robin's eyes begged you to believe her. What were you supposed to do when she looked up at you like that?

"Why have you been ignoring me?" What was she supposed to do when you looked down at her like that? She had to tell you what was eating her up, knowing you didn't understand why it was such a big deal to her.

"It's just all a lot." After she paused, you nodded. Moving over, you patted the bed for her to join you, giving her your full undivided attention. "Steve is my best friend. I don't want what we have to effect my friendship with him, you know? I don't want him to brought into our relationship when we have an argument or if we break up. I don't want you or him to be in an awkward situation at any time." A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you, scared of how you'll react to her opening up.

"So, Steve's the problem?" You joked.

She put on a sad smile, "Pretty much."

"Robin," you hand found hers, your thumb rubbing over her skin in smoothing circles. "I like you- as I've showed in this bed. I'm willing to deal with Steve and all that if the time comes. I want you."

Her eyes had a sad twinkle in them. " I just need time."

-

Shortly after Robin came down from your room, Steve was leaving to take her and Vickie to their homes. The ride was quiet- well almost. Robin stared out of the window, Steve tried starting conversation, Vickie sat in the back, being the only one conversating with the driver. Robin didn't pay either of them any mind. Her mind was on you. How understanding you were.

It was after Steve dropped Vickie off that he started conversation with Robin, not getting silence for an answer. "Vickie, huh?"

"I'm over Vickie. Like really, really over her. Not that there's something wrong with her- there's just someone else. Or there was, I guess. I don't really know anymore."

" Wow." Steve sighed, tapping the steering wheel. "I'm surprised you didn't break and tell me about you and y/n. You surprise me more and more everyday."

Robin froze, too scared to do anything.

"You knew?" She wanted to yell. But her voice came out as a whisper. Steve just looked at her, shrugging his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. You two aren't the best at keeping a secret. I felt like I was interrupting something every time you were in the room together."

Before Robin could stop herself, she was hitting his shoulders with all the frustration in her body. Punch after punch right to his right shoulder, same spot and everything. It was sure to be sore tomorrow.

-

Robin practically ran through the door, mindlessly making her way around the furniture.

Her eyes caught your pink nightgown, that she had made fun of you for- saying it was a granny thing to wear- as if she didn't find it adorable on you. You went further into the kitchen before she could fully make it into the kitchen. You back was turned to her, oblivious to her presence.

"I don't need time."

At lightning speed, you spun around, confused on why you heard anyone but Steve's voice in the house. You clutched at your chest for a split second before she had her lips on yours.

"Gross." Steve made his way to his room, a small smile making it's way onto his face when you couldn't see him anymore.

Pulling back, you didn't know what to say.

Robin didn't want you to say anything about what has happened, not in the minute or two, not the week she ignored you, nothing. She changed the subject, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes the same way she did when you first told her how you felt. "I really like this color on you."

"I know."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[kay-jaye]

aziraphale is pretty sure attempting to sneak a demon into heaven is a bad idea.

forget the fact that he’s the supreme archangel. forget the fact that the second coming is not going at all according to plan—his plan…the ineffable plan? forget the fact that he and crowley haven’t had a moment alone that wasn’t interrupted by muriel or maggie or nina or a legion of demons or the end of the world.

forget the fact that crowley hasn’t taken those wretched sunglasses off since…

it’s definitely a bad idea.

crowley is wearing a cream-colored suit over one of those turtlenecks with a gold version of his usual scarf, saying something about heavenly bees, but whatever joke he’s trying to make falls flat because all aziraphale can think is, i could appoint you to be an angel, you could come back to heaven, and isn’t that the pinnacle of cruel irony?

he understands why the disguise is necessary; it’s the not-so-subtle rub-in-the-face from a bitter demon squeezing his heart into a fist. it’s the prick of unease in the back of his mind that something isn’t quite right, the floor is at an odd angle, that book belongs on a different shelf. at the same time, it’s the you’re gorgeous he’s longed to return since before the beginning, sitting behind clenched teeth every day for 6,000 years. and it’s the realization that this was not what he imagined at all.

“this the one?” crowley asks, flipping through a file laid out on michael’s desk. “supreme archangel, and they’re still keeping secrets from you, huh?”

aziraphale would appreciate it if crowley would refrain from certain reminders. “yes, that’s it.” he looks around the pillar he’s taken to leaning against, waiting for the inevitable repercussion of being caught in the act. his suit is newer, sharper, grayer, but at this rate, all the worrying his thumbs have been doing to the fabric of the jacket is bound to have him looking his normal self. he supposes crowley sees something similarly foreign whenever he looks at him.

“wait, these are—”

“i know.”

crowley’s frown deepens as he rummages through the papers and documents and photos that aziraphale spent so long staring at, debating if coming back to beg crowley for help was worth the knife wounding his pride, and whether crowley would simply twist it instead and tell him to fuck off.

(he did, at first.)

too many things on the tip of his tongue—another apology, a frustrated yell, the heavy memory of crowley.

“you were right,” he settles with a sigh.

the demon pauses, considers him, then closes the vanilla folder, dragging the projected holograms back into the file. aziraphale braces for an “i told you so” or the self-deprecating laughter that’s made an increased appearance in wake of his leaving. the damn sunglasses render his expression unreadable, a book aziraphale regarded himself as an expert on, but now he isn’t so sure he’d ever gotten the words right to begin with.

then crowley is smiling at him. no sneer, no malice. crowley’s smile is small, two parts sad and muted expectations, and aziraphale feels like he’s being offered something important, more than a title, more than a job, more than the opportunity to fix the unfixable, though he certainly tried, and he’ll be damned before he lets it go. it’s still angry, but it’s so much realer than anything aziraphale has felt up here for months, and aziraphale knows. he knows they need to talk, and even if they’re just as irreparable as heaven and the whole system, he knows which one he’ll be devoted to mending.

“can i get that in dance form?”

and suddenly aziraphale knows what it is to soar without wings.

he doesn’t get the chance to respond before michael’s approaching voice sends him into a panic. aziraphale hopes the click of heels on white porcelain tile will drown out the sound of their own shuffling as he lunges for crowley, who just manages to grab the file they came for, and pulls him around the pillar.

there aren’t many good hiding places in heaven. why would there be? it’s supposed to reflect truth and dispel lies. the good thing about being an archangel, however, is the ability to alter heaven’s layout, although minutely. you want a desk? there. you want to lengthen the hallway from uriel’s office to yours? done. you want a slightly darker corridor leading into the wall a few feet to the left of michael’s desk? aziraphale does.

he almost shushes crowley’s quiet yelp of surprise when he frantically presses the demon into the alcove out of sight, and aziraphale feels the punched-out exhale more than he actually hears it.

it’s deja vu. they’re back in tadfield manor except crowley’s holding a folder containing plans for judgment day trapped between them, and aziraphale’s the one with his hands clutching lapels like they might leave with another stinging don’t bother. the moment is dangerously loaded because fuck, aziraphale has no idea where crowley’s sunglasses got thrown in his haste, and crowley’s looking at him, really looking at him, without dark lenses to hide the way his eyes flicker down or the split-second fear that flashes across them.

aziraphale is crushing their chests together, and crowley is caving under him, and jesus isn’t here yet, but there wouldn’t have been room for him anyway.

“angel,” crowley breathes, and aziraphale knows it’s a slip of the tongue because crowley hasn’t called him that since they last parted ways.

aziraphale’s mind is a constant loop of yellow, yellow, yellow, and it takes every ounce of remaining self-control in his body not to lean forward and do what he should’ve done months ago. he doesn’t have quite enough left to pull back though, so he’s stuck on the verge of never knowing how to ask for what he wants, always too good at backtracking for their own safety, afraid to do it now because he really thought last time was the last time, and he doesn’t know if crowley can take another rejection.

aziraphale doesn’t know if he can either.

any sound of michael has disappeared.

aziraphale reckons this is the part where he’s supposed to say something like, “i’m not nice. nice is a four-letter word.” aziraphale reckons crowley might even agree with him. he doesn’t feel nice; all these millennia of you go too fast for me, crowley, and i don’t even like you.

their noses bump as crowley shifts his head. “aziraphale,” he says. it makes the angel want to cry. “‘s alright.”

so crowley’s catching the bullet this time, and that’s all it takes for aziraphale’s grip to loosen. he steps back—all too familiar a motion—and watches the demon smooth himself out.

“crowley, i—”

“nah,” he interrupts, waving the file in his hands. “talk later, remember?”

aziraphale relaxes, wonders what miracle gave him this and who performed it, wonders which stars aligned and whether crowley knew about them. the angel nods.

neither speaks again until the elevator doors are closing and the angel disguise has fallen away.

crowley, in all of his too-tight pants and infinite patience, doesn’t even look at aziraphale when he says, “dance later, too.”

[rallentando1011]

hey so can I get a scenario with rise donnie’s s/o coming up to him and invited him to a restaurant in the hidden city where it has couples dancing? Entices him with his favourite music that’s gonna be playing and massive puppy eyes?

late nights, flashing lights

rise Donnie x gn reader

“Come on, it’s the weekend! Why not do something special?”

Donnie flipped up his goggles in response to your question and set down his welding gun, sparks ceasing to fly at his confusion. “I haven’t the slightest notion on what the day of the week has to do with my choice of activities.”

“Our choice of activities - we’re hanging out right now, so it’s collective,” you corrected.

“Fine - our choice of activities. Sitting and working and engaging in riveting discussions is all we do on other nights, so what makes this one any different?”

You paused. All week, you had been planning a surprise for him - a trip to a quaint little disco in the Hidden City you’d heard about from April. She’d sent you some pictures from when she’d gone with Sunita and Casey, and then the idea took root.

But it was easier said than done.

Planning to surprise your turtle was difficult primarily for two reasons: the snoop always found out about it in advance (which you’d avoided narrowly this time by not mentioning anything about any plans tonight) and, the most difficult part, trying to get him to choose to go out of the lair, the step you found yourself currently stuck on. Still, you were going to try.

“I don’t know,” you replied coolly, “maybe the fact that it’s supposed to be the end of the week, time to relax or go out or something?”

“Out?”

“Yes. Out. With me. Instead of holing yourself up in the lab or whatever,” you mumbled.

“Out where? Not a lot of Homo sapien-mutant-accepting entertainment establishments come to mind, and, much as I love pretending not to be myself,” he flicked his goggles back down and turned back to his workspace.“I don’t know if I’m really in the mood for it right now.”

“Well.” You didn’t want to say that you knew of one in particular because that sort of spoiled the surprise element of the night. Hesitantly, you suggested, “we can try to look for one?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hand stopping just shy of picking up his welding tool once more. “I don’t know…”

“Could we please just give it a shot?” Hook.

You nudged his arm, mustering up the warmest look you had. Line. “Any time you want to come back or feel uncomfortable, we’re headed right back here.”

Donnie glanced back over to you, and you could discern the exact moment he caved. Sinker. “Sure.”

The next half hour consisted of throwing on sweatshirts, linking arms and whipping out of the lair straight toward one of the many entrances to the Hidden City.

As you wandered through portals, down ramps and bystreets, the turtle you were practically dragging along looked at you exceedingly more quizzically.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Donnie eventually muttered.

“What?” you asked incredulously, quite unconvincingly. “No, of course not. Just meandering randomly. What gave you that impression?”

“Oh, nothing - just the fact that you’re walking with assertion in a seemingly predetermined path.”

A subtle smirk worked its way onto your face. “Maybe.”

He scowled, lighthearted. “Oh, sweet Galileo- why mustn’t you ask me out with you straightforwardly when you already have plans?”

You pulled on his sleeve to direct you two left before pushing the entrance of your location open for him. “Because then I wouldn’t get to see the look on your face when I take you places like this.”

As soon as he stepped foot in the building, you saw the glow in his eyes, his radiant beam, and they were far more beautiful than the already gorgeous venue.

The pictures you’d seen of it looked good, but seeing it in person was even better; with the amber lights and colorful tiled-dance floor and overhead disco ball, the place looked like it was ripped straight out of the 80’s. 

“It’s a discotheque, baby!” you grinned, throwing an arm back around his shoulder. “Last one like this within, like, a thousand mile radius.”

“Woah!” Somehow his eyes lit up even more when he looked back at you. It was stunning. “How have I not heard of this place?”

“I mean, that checks out. April recommended it, and apparently it took Sunita forever to find somewhere with a more traditional disco - it only plays 70’s and 80’s hits. You’re welcome.”

Donnie was still stupefied. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

“I heard they’ve got some tables over there for dining, and that the drinks from there-”

Your hand was gently snatched from the air where it was pointing at a countertop across the room. You looked down at the tridactyl hand holding it, then up its owner.

The turtle grinned, finally pulled from his daze and emphatically lucid. The look in his eyes bore a striking resemblance to the exact one you’d used to get him to agree to come here. “We can get into the dives and dining and whatnot later - for right now, care to dance?”

“I mean, I have a reservation for-”

Another hand on your waist was all it took to shut you up, and slowly walking backwards landed the both of you on floor, and pulling you closer resulted in the both of you grinning and spinning and dancing.

As a myriad of killer songs blasted from the front of the room, you found yourself inundated with a seeping, saccharine satisfaction, partially derived from doing the merengue and cha-cha and some deviant of the Cabbage Patch along with many more improvisations, but mostly from the sheer elation exuded by your dance partner.

Even as you two continued to bounce to Whitney or sway to Prince, his focus stayed on you, eyes locked, with scarcely a moment without a hand or arm making contact with you.

Somehow, just that affectionate attention, that carefree yet caring energy made the efforts of getting him into a social setting and keeping a surprise from the nosiest person in the world abundantly more than worth it.

[ravenssilver]

Maybe something with Phantom getting left out of dinner in the beginning? Started with someone intentionally or accidentally leaving his plate off, and he's too nervous to ask why he doesn't get one when Aurora does. He eventually stops coming to dinner, and someone starts to notice just how sickly, and dizzy the smaller ghoul looks because he's too afraid to ask for any food or take any yet

unfortunately this is is part one of two :( i got super caught up in writing a whole mini story, and i felt bad for taking so long, so here this is!

1.4k words of phantom being neglected because i can’t get enough of the heartbreak

cw: mention of body issues, phantom is nervous about being around the pack, small scene of phantom vomiting, i guess some of this could be seen as an ed? the ask is a good wrap of cws!

also, ‘quint’ is used in this instead phantom or aeon, and will likely be that way in the next part :)

under the cut, if you please<3

He didn’t have a name. At least, he hadn’t come up with one.

The others referred to him as Quint, just to get names straight among him and his summon buddy, Aurora.

He stared at the ceiling as he laid in bed, his eyebrows furrowed.

Aurora had a name. Did she pick it out? Or was it Cirrus and Cumulus? Why didn’t the others pick out a name for him?

He sat up with a sigh, feeling hungry.

He glamoured himself as best he could, only having enough of a grasp on the ability to hide the different color splotches in his skin.

As he walked out of his room and to the common area, he stared down at his arm which was buzzing with his quintessence induced glamor.

Aurora’s markings were beautiful. The subtle yet bright flows of pinks and purples and blues blended perfectly with her skin. The small swipes of green made her look like a perfect painting that had hours of detailed brush strokes put into it.

His markings just looked like splotches. Random globs of paint flicked at a canvas in a half-assed attempt to make art.

He wondered if Aurora ever tried to glamor away the markings of her skin. Surely not, as she was gorgeous. The colors of her skin showed her personality and her connection with confidence and self love. Her mental state flowed healthily through her skin, the beauty of security blending in with her vessel.

He sighed and dropped his arm back down to his side, trying to focus on his pack’s laughter just around the corner and the scraping of forks against plates.

His steps slowed for a moment.

Dinner had started?

Confused, the newly summoned ghoul sped up only to slow down again. He peaked around a corner, seeing his pack at the dining room table. All the chairs were full, all plates had someone behind them and were stacked with the delicious cooking of Swiss and Mountain.

Every chair was full. Every plate was stacked.

There was no space for him.

A little ball of anxiety formed in his stomach, making his quintessence spark. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stepped around the corner and shuffled to the kitchen to fix himself a plate.

Though, he was quick to realize all the food prepared was on the table.

Mountain and Swiss had prepared a feast in celebration for the pack’s first dinner together. Dew and Rain had just returned from a small trip away with Copia for business, of course everyone would want to celebrate.

He looked at Dewdrop and Rain. He took in their appearances, memorizing his first in person encounter with them as he was simply used to seeing them over FaceTime.

His eyes traveled to Swiss and Mountain as he set his plate back in the cupboard.

Maybe they were just swept up in the joy of being reunited with their partners and that’s why they forgot to prepare a plate for him.

He nodded to himself and snuck out of the dining room.

That’s okay. He can eat leftovers tonight and he’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He sighed as he brought his fifth night of leftovers to his room. It was long after dinner, and it was long since the others had retreated to their rooms.

Tomorrow, he told himself, I’ll have a plate tomorrow.

He knew, deep down, that he had been forgotten. Of course he knew. Twice was an accident, a coincidence, maybe. Three times, if you had self respect, was a pattern.

But for the young quint, it was an accident.

It was an accident just like the fourth time, and now, this time.

He slowly ate his potatoes, his churning stomach fighting against every bite he took. He was lost in his thoughts, off in his own world of anxiety and the pain of knowing he was being left out of his own pack.

He hadn’t been able to keep food down when he realized that he had been forgotten. Every night he would eat a meal long after dinner, only to be bent over a toilet not long after.

He celebrated every bite he took and could swallow, having not been able to get this far the night before.

Though, his food was quick to come right back up when he heard Rain’s laughter in the next room over. He tossed his plate down and rushed to his bathroom, which wasn’t helpful since it was right next to Swiss’ room, which Rain was in.

He hurled into the toilet as Rain’s laughter continued, now accompanied by Dew and Swiss’. And once his stomach had no more food to send back up, it sent its own acid instead.

He felt like he was dying. He was light headed, his body was trembling, and his throat burned and felt like it was closing up. He sobbed as he flushed the toilet, struggling to close the lid due to how shaky he was.

He knew Swiss, Dew, and Rain couldn’t hear him over the sounds of their laughter and Swiss’ record player. He knew that he hadn’t bonded enough with Aurora, Cirrus, Cumulus, or Mountain for them to feel his strife.

That just made him even more sick.

He gave up on even going to dinner a week ago.

He also gave up on leftovers after Swiss and Mountain started cooking smaller portions after having a conversation about how they always had “too much leftovers.”

He sighed as he pulled on a shirt that was too big for him. He thought it was the shirt Swiss had given him when he was summoned, but after staring down at it for a few moments he realized that it was his shirt.

A shirt he had bought with his own allowance money from Copia.

Why is it so big? Did the dryer stretch it? He asked himself, messing with fabric for a few more moments before he left it alone, opening his door and leaving his room for practice.

He sighed to himself as he walked into the practice room early, seeing Copia sitting in a chair as he waited for the ghouls.

“Ah, hello, Quint.” Copia smiled at him as he looked up. “Hello…” He choked out, not realizing his voice was so hoarse. Copia’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood, watching as the new ghoul struggled more than usual to pick up the Fantomen.

“Are you alright…? You look, how shall I say… pale? Worn out?” Copia asked, looking concerned for his ghoul.

The quintessence ghoul looked up, apparently a bit too fast for his body’s liking. His head spun and he stumbled back slightly, eliciting a slight exclamation of surprise from Copia. The ghoul stumbled back into a chair and sat ridged for a moment before sloppily acting like he had meant to fall.

“I’m fine.” He stated, his shaky fingers doing a run up the A string.

Copia stared at him for a moment, a bad feeling swirling around in his stomach.

“You will tell me if you are not, yes?” Copia asked, worried about his ghoul. “Yes, Papa,” the small quint nodded, shaking out his hands to try and make his trembling go away.

Copia’s frowned deepened as he went to say more, only to be cut off by the loud clamor of the rest of his ghouls crowding into the practice room.

Copia sighed, knowing the conversation would have to be put up on a shelf for the time being.

“Dewdrop.”

The fire ghoul turned around as Copia called his name. He watched his pack slow down for a moment, only to be reassured with a soft smile from their Papa that Dew hadn’t done anything wrong.

Dew watched as the pack nodded and walked out of the practice room, Quint following behind and slipping out of the room just before Copia called for him.

The fourth Papa sighed deeply, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything alright, Papa?” Dew asked, sensing Copia’s worry. And though it wasn’t far off from the man’s usual demeanor, Dew could tell this was different.

“No.” Copia sighed, knowing he had to be blunt. “I am worried for our young Quintessence. Have you noticed anything off about him?” Copia asked.

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, going to say something, only to realize just how much of a ghost the new quintessence had been.

“I… I haven’t seen much of him at all, actually. He’s never shown up for dinner and he stays in his room all the time.” Dew responded, now realizing where Copia’s worry was coming from.

“Keep an eye on him, yes?” Copia requested. Dew gave a curt nod and walked out of the practice room, quick to catch up with his pack.

[dreamtinblackandwhite]

A Dog's Best Friend

chris evans x female!reader summary: Dodger finds his best friend - Chris finds... someone.

note: this is my first fic for Mr. C. Evans :) I'm still going back and forth on if this will be a full series or if it will be a series of one shots but if will for sure have multiple parts! let me know your thoughts and opinions please!

warnings: meet cute, little bit of fluff, Chris falls hard and fast, swearing

word count: 2262

“Come on, Dodger!” I call to my rescue boxer-mutt as he trots back towards me with his skunk toy. Normally, he is very good at fetch but today he continued to be distracted by the golden retriever who was playing near him. I really can’t blame him though, I am equally as distracted by the owner of this dog.

Stop staring, I remind myself as I force my eyes to Dodger again. I kneel down as he gets closer so I can wrestle the toy away. I watch from the corner of my eye as the girl nearby tosses her dogs ball out into the distance; she’s got an arm, that’s for sure.

Dodger’s wet nose bumping into my face was his subtle reminder that I should be looking at him and not anyone else. “Okay, buddy,” I laugh as I stand up. I toss the skunk off in the same direction as before and watch Dodger happily chase after it.

While I wait for Dodger to come back, I easily fall into the enthralling trap this stranger yielded. I wonder if I’d ever seen her hair color on another person before – the sun really catches it perfectly, illuminating the multitude of different hues and shades that dance between each strand. I wonder what she does for work; her outfit didn’t give too much of a hint: blue jeans that were cuffed at the ankle just above a tan pair of boots with a grey-green shirt tucked into the waist with a long tan coat tossed over the top of it all and loosely tied closed at the front. It was a simple outfit, but nice enough in imply she was going somewhere next; unlike my black joggers paired with a grey workout shirt, white running shoes, a green windbreaker, and a Boston Bruins cap.

I watch her kneel down to greet her pup, “this isn’t yours, silly!” She exclaims, tugging at the skunk that hung from his mouth. Wait, skunk?  I look down at Dodger now who sat patiently looking up at me with a ball in his mouth, his tail wagging a thousand miles a minute.

I laugh as I gently take the ball from him; he licks my hand in thanks. “You are such a good wing-man, buddy,” I praise with a gentle pat to his head. I stand straight now, tugging my cap a little bit lower over my eyes to hopefully save the awkwardness of her knowing me immediately and flattening out any wrinkles that may have formed in my jacket.

I walk closer to her as she searches the park for the possible skunk owner. Dodger follows happily at my side, his eyes trained to the ball in my hand. “I think our pups got a bit confused,” I open, trying to keep my voice welcoming and charming; I hold the ball up and give my wrist a slight twist.  

She blushes immediately and moves to close more distance between the two of us, reaching her hand forward with the skunk. “I’m sorry about that; I’d say he doesn’t do this often, but that would be a lie,” she grins at me as we trade toys. I wet my lips before grinning back at her, her smile was gorgeous. She is gorgeous. Her eyes seemed to carry specks of a thousand different shades in them and were piercing against the sun that had begun to rise. “He’s got a bad habit of stealing.”

I laugh gently and shrug my shoulders, waving off the apology for her dog. “Don’t worry about it,” I reassure, looking down at Dodger at my feet. “I’m sure it was a mutual trade.” I try to control my expression as I glance back to the girl in front of me, my mind racing with a thousand different observations and questions. I think she chews her lip when she was nervous; even now she had the bottom right corner tucked into her teeth, her jaw flexing slightly as her eyes searched mine. Is she a coffee or tea person? She has really pretty eyes. Does she like road trips? Movies at home or in the theatre? God… her eyes.

“Dodger, right?” She asks, a small smirk playing at her lips as she steps back to toss the ball for her dog. My eyes widen by a sliver as a blush creeps over my cheeks, I’ve been made. I should have introduced myself right away, why try to hide it? Now it just seems like I was intentionally hiding from her – I don’t want to hide from her. Does she think it’s weird for me to be who I am? What if she hates my movies and, in turn, me?

“Uh- y-yeah,” I stutter embarrassed as I turn away and toss the toy for Dodger to run after.

“So, you’re Chris Evans’ dog walker, then?” She asks, her voice carrying the smallest glint of teasing. I smirked softly, looking back at her feeling slightly more comfortable after clocking the joke. Maybe my social status didn’t matter to her. That was nice; most people would have thrown a fit by now.

“Evans couldn’t afford my dog-walking fees,” I joke, winking at her. Did you just wink? What the fuck was that? Are you stupid?

She laughs, her chin falling towards her chest and one hand covering her mouth. The sound literally brought goosebumps to my skin and a warm tightness to my chest. I gulp as I try to control the smile on my face. Keep it friendly, not creepy. “I’m Y/N,” she introduces, sticking her hand out for me to shake. Y/N…

I feel my smile grow slightly as I took her hand in mine, giving her a polite handshake. “Chris,” I reply, keeping my voice cool and collected. Should I have let go of her hand already? How long do you normally shake someone’s hand? How long have we been shaking hands? It feels like hours – her skin is so soft and her hand is so small. I don’t want to let go – what is happening to me?!

She dropped her hand to take the ball from her dog again, tossing it off. I squeezed my now empty hand into a fist, containing her warmth to my palm. Calm down, she’s just a stranger in the park… with a beautiful name and beautiful eyes. “If I’m being honest, I recognized Dodger before you,” she explains as I bend down to grab Dodger’s toy and toss it. “So, either you have this whole ‘Clark Kent’ thing down solid or your dog is more famous than you. I’ll let you decide whichever helps you sleep better at night.”

It’s my turn to laugh, hard, my hand cradling my ribs as I do. It felt freeing and relaxed. I took a few deep breaths as I look back at her. “Thank you for that,” I chuckle, “I need to be humbled now and again.” She grinned at me as the dogs trotted back over to us. I knelt down and held my hand out towards her pup. “And, what’s your name?” I asked in a puppy voice as I scratched his ears.

“Oh god,” she mumbled slightly, covering her eyes embarrassed. I look up at her confused, taking the ball and tossing it off before doing the same for Dodger. “I have never been embarrassed about his name before this moment…” she grumbled, giving me a sheepish grin as I stood back up next to her.

“You’ve got me on the edge of my seat, Y/N,” I laugh softly, suddenly feeling anxious for very different reasons. Did she notice how you basically just moaned her name? You are being fucking creepy, dude.

“His name is Thanos,” she grumbles, hiding her face again. I burst out laughing again, leaning forward and resting my hands on my knees. “I didn’t think I’d meet anyone from the MCU when he was a baby!” She defends before starting to laugh herself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” I breath out between chuckles as I try to control myself.

She shook her head at me. “No, please,” she giggles as her hands hide her blushing face again. “It is pretty funny.”

“I guess I’m just disappointed it’s not Rogers or Captain,” I grin at her as the pups came running back to us. “Hi, Thanos!” I cheer, kneeling down to scratch his head again. Dodger, realizing I was busy, went straight to Y/N. She happily bent down to give him so belly rubs before tossing his skunk off – I did the same for Thanos.

“Oh, you’ll just love his brother and sister then…” Y/N mumbles, looking at me embarrassed still.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I straightened up.

“Two cats… Loki and Nebula,” she grins, laughing at herself. Even if I didn’t actually find what she said funny, I’d still be laughing with her. It was contagious, I couldn’t imagine anyone hearing her laugh and not joining in.

Dodger and Thanos returned to our feet quicker this time, yipping at us to stop laughing. “Sorry, guys,” Y/N sighs as she bent down to toss Thanos’ ball. I went to do the same for Dodger but he growled and backed away, wagging his tail as he looks up at Y/N.

“What in the world?” I laugh softly; Y/N bent down and easily took the toy away from him to toss. “Traitor!” I call out as Dodger chased away. “It’s because you’ve got a better arm than me,” I wink again, looking back at Y/N. She blushed and looked down at her feet nervously; she’s adorable when she’s flustered. “So, where are you from?” I ask maybe a little too excitedly.

“What do you mean?” She counters, giving me a pointed look. “I was born and raised here in Boston.” Her serious resolve quickly faded to a grin as she heard the horribly fake accent come from her lips.

“No offense,” I laugh, setting a hand back on my chest to try to comfort my heart that was doing summersaults. “But never do that again.” Always do it – it was adorable.

“Noted,” she chuckles softly. “I am from a super small town in Wisconsin, moved here about a year and a half ago.”

“Ah, Wiz-cahn-sin, eh?” I countered, putting my own midwestern accent into use.

“That’s not fair,” Y/N laughs, playfully pushing my shoulder; I felt the warmth of her skin radiate through my jacket. “It’s part of your job to be able to do accents.”

I smirk at her as I held my hands up defensively. “You’re right,” I admit my defeat happily after seeing her smile. “What’s it like? I have never been to much of the Midwest.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she smiles, tossing both dogs toys now that Dodger was completely ignoring me. “It’s pretty much just farm land everywhere you look, but the people and weather are pretty similar to Massachusetts. Just take all the history from Boston, Salem, and Plymouth and replace it with red-necks, corn, and beer and it’ll be like a typically Tuesday night for me.”

This woman seems to have quite the knack for making me laugh; I can’t remember the last time I laughed so genuinely with someone, it was nice. “What brought you to Boston, then? Needed a break from the red-necks?” I guess with a small smirk.

“Always need a break from the red-necks,” she grins at me. “I got a job at Tufin as a senior project manager for their cybersecurity department. It took me a bit farther from my family than I had planned, but it’s been a welcome change.” I study her facial expression for a moment, she looked sad but not in a bad way. She missed her family, I think.

“It must be hard, being so far away from them,” I glance at her as she tossed the ball for Thanos before he got distracted by wrestling with Dodger playfully. “Do you get home to see them a lot?” Take it slow, play it cool…

“Not really,” she shrugged her shoulders with a sad smile now. “It’s hard to get off work, and the flights aren’t exactly cheap.” She anxiously ran a hand through her hair again. “Holiday’s and special occasions mostly.”

Hug her. Wait, no! Don’t do that, that’s creepy. Fuck, how can I comfort her? Dodger happily rolled onto his back as Y/N scratched his stomach, Thanos was off in the distance chasing a few butterflies. A soft ring echoed from her watch, she frowns as she shut it off.

“Fuck, it’s already 8:30…” she mumbles; I look around anxiously, zipping my coat up and tugging my cap lower onto my forehead. Normally, I would have already made it home by now and avoided any extra interactions. “T!” She calls out with two sharp taps to her hip; Thanos came running at the command. “I’m sorry, I have to drop him off at home before work.” She looked at me apologetically, her smile didn’t reach her eyes fast enough to hide her disappointment.

I felt a pang at my heart as we both clipped the dog’s leashes onto their collars. “Of course,” I smile at her to reassure her, though I doubted it hid my disappointment either. “It was really nice to meet you, Y/N.” Y/N…

“It was nice to meet you too, Chris,” she grinned before turning away and clicking her tongue for Thanos to follow. Wait, don’t go…

“Y/N!” I called out before she got too far away. “I’ll be back here at 7 tomorrow, if you – I mean, uhm…” I stuttered, fuck, fuck, fuck.

She giggled softly and bit her lip, god how beautiful. “I will see you tomorrow then, Chris.”

[bachissidehoe]

"Adopting" Catboys Kuroo & Kenma

w.c. 1.3k

The last thing y/n expected to happen when she decided to take two stray cats in was perhaps exactly what happened- she woke up one morning to two human boys on either side of her, cuddling up against her chilly body. After the initial panic, and all three of them working through the confusion and explanations, y/n was eventually able to take a breath. These two boys, were in fact, the two cats she brought home. Her energetic black cat turned into a tall, gorgeous man with raven colored hair, his black cat ears dusted with specs of white on the inside, his tail sleek and smooth. Her calm, shy calico became a sweet, quiet man with beautiful golden eyes and black and yellow ears, matching perfectly with his two-tone shoulder length hair. Perhaps one of the most difficult things to accept about the two cat boys she got mixed up with- was that they’re so damn pretty. Both of them. And they had a way of making her feel special, fighting over cuddles when they were in cat form, playing with her hair in human form- she couldn't get enough of their attention. She’d been calling them some random pet names she picked out- but when they revealed their human forms, they reintroduced themselves as Kuroo Tetsuro and Kozume Kenma.

It didn't take long for the lines of the originally established owner-pet relationship to become blurred, or at least, the nature of this relationship to take on a slightly different meaning.

Kuroo

He fights for her attention and isn’t subtle about it. He tells her out loud, drawing any amount of attention he can away from his calm friend. “Stop petting Kenma, I was the one who helped you with the dishes earlier” He rolls his eyes, his fluffy black ears pinned backward

He steals kisses whenever he can get them, a light kiss on the cheek, a lick to the neck, a brush of her lips. Anything to put his hands or his mouth on her

He likes to maintain his cat form when she first arrives home, snaking his furry body between her legs to make sure he’s the first to welcome her with his scent. He proudly reaches his head upward to meet her greeting, loving the feeling of her fingers gliding through his soft fur

When he fucks her, he loves to rail into her from behind, gripping her hair in one hand and digging his claws into her ass with the other. He loves watching her tight pussy take him in, creating a creamy ring around the base of his thick cock. “That’s a good girl, who’s the pet now?” He gasps, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he fills her with his sticky load

He’s so vocal with her, constantly praising her, telling her she’s beautiful, moaning into her mouth, her pussy, around her tits- he just loves being loud for her. Maybe some part of that is because he wants Kenma to hear, since there’s nothing better than a jealous Kenma for him to deal with later

Kenma

It’s easy to tell when Kenma is touch starved, he wanders around the house, moping, letting out little sighs and whines. He acts so unbothered, but he wants to be pet and cuddled just as much as Kuroo. “Kuro, move over, you’re kicking me off the bed” He whines

When he's in cat form, he's watching whatever's on the TV, y/n's laptop, or even her phone, with his golden eyes glued to the screen, his fluffy multi-colored tail swinging happily behind him. When he's in human form, he's the one playing the games and scrolling through social media. And he loves when y/n watches him, he'll take quick glances toward her when he wins a match or makes a good play, eager for her praise

He's always curled up on y/n's bed, taking up the warmest spot where her body once was, rolling around in the scent she left behind. She always finds him there when she gets home, looking beautifully soft, taking a short little cat nap before spending the rest of the night subtly begging for her attention

He loves when y/n bounces on his cock, taking his entire length inside her soaked pussy before using her burning thighs to lift herself back up, resting only his tip inside before repeating the cycle. He can't get enough of being edged by her, ridden until her gorgeous thighs physically can't anymore, which is when he'll thrust upward into her tired pussy, watching her tits bounce in front of him until he finally fills her to the brim

Perhaps his favorite thing in the world is when he gets to taste her sweet pussy, lapping at her hole over and over, refusing to stop even when she begs him to. He loves when her fluids drip down his chin, when her fingers grip his calico ears as she cums once again, having lost count of the exact number of times

Both of them

Taking the boys out always becomes an event, forcing them to wear beanies that cover their ears, making them tuck their tails into their pants, they always put up a fuss about it. But they have to get outside sometime, so y/n takes them to the park and lets them hit a volleyball around, buys them some treats, steers them away from any dogs that want to play. Kenma can never seem to keep his beanie on, it always slips down over his eyes, leading to a slightly panicked y/n bobby pinning it back in place before anyone sees

Sometimes they like to come shopping with her, picking out groceries and Kuroo excitedly jumping around when he sees a cat toy he wants. Kenma prefers to stand behind the cart, rolling his eyes at Kuroo's obnoxious displays. And in public of all places...

There are times when one of the boys will get extra jealous during their "special" time with y/n. Kenma will paw and scratch at the door, having just woken up from his nap and realizing Kuroo has once again beat him out for y/n's attention. Kuroo, however, will just barge in, jumping up on the bed and making sure Kenma knows he can't have y/n all to himself

The constant interruptions usually lead to the one left out joining them anyway. Kenma will stroll in while Kuroo fucks y/n from behind, his eyes pleading and cock strained against his sweatpants as Kuroo smirks, thrusting just a bit harder to rub it in. "Kenma, c'mere, I can h-fuck- help you too~" Y/n says, pulling his sweatpants down and taking his bulging length in her mouth. Kuroo's thrusts are all she needs to create a rhythm against Kenma's shaft, and it isn't long before he's spilling his load down her throat. "Already done, Kenma? Better get it back up, I could keep going for hours" Kuroo snickers, the sound of his thighs slapping against her ass echoing beautifully off the walls of the bedroom

When Kuroo's the one left out, he'll waste no time inserting himself into the situation. "Without me? You two..." Kuroo growls, watching y/n bounce on Kenma as his lips remain parted, his face flushed and eyes snapped shut. Kuroo smothers his needy cock in plenty of lube before bending y/n forward, slowly forcing his dick into her ass. "You don't mind, right? Can't just make me sit and watch" He breathes, taking one of y/n's tits in her hand as she whines. Soon, both boys are thrusting into her, filling her up at the same time

They always end peacefully, with y/n asleep in Kenma's arms while Kuroo plays with her hair and cleans her up. She takes care of them all the time- feeding them, giving them a home, cleaning up after them- it's the least they can do to hold her used body and cradle her to sleep.

[the-amazing-boop]

My track by track first impressions for Unreal Unearth (with some contextualized thoughts of the singles)

De Selby Part 1 - straight into the lullabies playlist. Just perfect.

De Selby Part 2 - perfect fade in from Part 1. I couldn't have dreamt up a better, more subtle transition. Still my current creature comfort.

First Time - oh, ffs, it's bluesy and sad. Lethal combination. This might be another one on repeat later. Ow. Ouch, ow. THE FINAL TIME YOU CALLED ME "BABY". Wtf. I see why some of y'all were cussing him out on here.

Francesca - my beloved. Brutal to have this follow First Time, though. Mentally two-stepping through the tears. The bellowing at the outro still has the power to ascend me despite my replaying.

I,Carrion - another certified heartbreaker for the lullabies playlist. She's Greek, she's cosmic, she's pure love.

Eat Your Young - I am once again solidified in my conviction to refuse having children in this fucked up world. Y'all be safe.

Damage Gets Done (feat. Brandi Carlile) - Okay guitar lick! Oh the voices belting together in harmony is hitting me. I'm getting really 2010s feelings I haven't felt in forever. I feel the sudden urge to forgive myself. He's back at it again with the choral work, CAN I LIVE??

Who We Are - and just like that, I'm back on my emo shit. He really went for emotional whiplash in terms of song ordering, huh? Not me literally listening to this while engulfed in a dark room as well. Another one I'll have to repeat, I fear.

Son of Nyx - oh fuck. Oh no. Not the piano dragging along. And no words. THE CUTOFF. THE STRINGS. THE VOCALIZATIONS. It's definitely a warning. Shit's about to start hurting for real. It's so haunting and gorgeous.

All Things End - Hello, old friend, my first favorite. I'm terrified of what follows you. It was bad enough watching the man "die" on the table (my hands are in the air to receive the gospel).

To Someone From A Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe) - fucking hell. Just devastating. Idk how much more I can take.

Butchered Tongue - this hits like crazy if you have any connection to a diaspora that was nearly erased or just have ancestry DEEPLY rooted oppression and the like. Ffs, I'm gonna need stitches for a cut that deep.

Anything But - and then this happy shit. Back at it again with the whiplash, the bastard. I love it though! This is going on the light and bright playlist. I'm a sucker for sad lyrics dressed in bright colors. And the vocals?? Come on, now.

Abstract (Psychopomp) - I was right. Everything following Son of Nyx just hurts differently. Dare I say worse than the first half of the album. I really shouldn't get into how I relate OFTEN to the poor roadkill creatures in my area.

Unknown/Nth - a nice and plentiful helping of stake through the heart, as usual. The briiidge. I drown in it every time.

First Light - I'm gonna say it's an instant classic. The imagery. The love on love on love. The catharsis. The drumsss. Oh! The acoustic fade out.

Overall, he didn't bother not once to lift his heel on this album. He's outdone himself. No skips. I am foaming at the mouth, waiting for my vinyl to come in. All get 10s across the board from me. 16 works of art. I really wish I could lock myself in a room for three days to really digest this album.

[desertdollranch]

Opening and reviewing my first Australian Girl doll

She spent more than a month in a box, making her way halfway across the world to her new home, and now here she is! I'm so relieved that she arrived safely. It was the longest I've ever had to wait for a doll, and through much of her journey I didn't know where she was or when she would be here.

I don't want to drop too big of a spoiler, but listen to this........ she was so worth the wait, and the money. This doll instantly won my heart with how exquisite she is in every way.

Australian Girl dolls were specially made for Australian children, by Helen Schofield, a grandmother who loved dolls. She created the brand when she couldn't find an age appropriate doll that was locally available or good quality. So she created these dolls to help children feel pride in Australian culture, while teaching them about friendship and empathy. There are five girls to befriend--Amy, Jasmine, Emily, Bronte, and Matilda, each representing a different region of the country, ethnicity, and lifestyle.

The company itself has quite high standards. They strive to reduce waste in their product packaging, and they use a factory in China that treats its workers humanely and does not use child labor.

If you've been around my blog for a while, you know how much I love collecting diverse brands and types of play dolls, especially international dolls. Also, this one will be extra special because I actually have an Australian grandmother--she's also a doll collector, and I'm looking forward to showing her my new doll the next time I see her.

After the cut, I'll show you who she is, and talk about why I chose her. I'll compare her with similar-sized dolls as well, and have her do some dressing up.

Before we get to the unboxing, let's check out the little goodies included with my doll.

First is a little pamphlet explaining why the dolls are special, but also represent real girls growing up in Australia.

There's another pamphlet about how to care for your doll.

All of the dolls come with a fun freebie: this cute pair of thongs.

Another freebie (a $30 AUD value) is this very sturdy doll carrier with pockets for accessories.

I also bought a pair of sneakers for my new girl. I figured her feet would be a bit larger than my other dolls, and these are cute, so she now has three pairs of shoes to wear.

Anyway. Enough of the small stuff. Let's let her out of the box.

It's Amy from Adelaide!

I chose Amy after three entire years of being indecisive and going back and forth on exactly which Australian Girl I wanted. They're all equally adorable, so I picked Amy because her personality seems very sweet, and I love that she has mixed heritage. According to the Austrlaian Girl dolls website, Amy's family tree is a mix of Aboriginal and Dutch on her mother's side, and English and Indian/Fijian on her father's side. Very representative of modern Australia!

I have no regrets. She is perfect!!! Just the most charming little angel. I am officially WOWED.

I'm seriously impressed at the superior quality of her construction. I understand why she was priced a bit higher than similar dolls. She is, from head to toe, beautifully made, with so many sweet details. Her dress and shoes are also impeccably made and feel very durable.

Her hair is flawless. It's a Kanekalon wig with loose curls, in a gorgeous shade of brown. Her eyes open and close. She has both painted and attached eyelashes.

She has a gap between her big toe and the next toe, so she can wear her sandals and thongs.

Her elbows are dimpled and she has subtle blush color on parts of her skin, including elbows and hands.

She has a crease across her palm.

She has articulation at her shoulders, hips, and neck. Her limbs, head, and shoulders are vinyl, and she has a huggable soft tummy. I don't really have a strong preference for either cloth torsos, vinyl torsos, or half and half like Amy. They all have pros and cons. This specific construction is nice in that she can wear low-neckline clothes without showing a cloth body, but it does make her harder to repair in case she has to be fixed.

I have a pretty good idea of what she'll be wearing when she's ready to change out of her pink party dress.

The first photo shows her in a dress I made. The second is a Maplelea dress and hat. The rest are all American Girl brand clothing, except for the shoes. Amy can comfortably wear most stretchy clothes by AG and similar brands like Our Generation, but her feet absolutely will not fit AG, OG, or Maplelea shoes.

The exception to the clothes is some of the tighter pieces. This AG shirt did not fit well. Amy's shoulders are a bit more broad than smaller dolls, and so without some extra give this is too tight.

Amy is 20 inches/51 centimeters tall. Here she is next to my Our Generation doll Jordana. I'm using an OG doll because they're actually available locally in Australia. Whereas American Girl dolls, which I usually use when I compare brands, have to make an overseas journey. So it's only fair that I consider any Australians reading this now who are wondering how Amy compares.

Amy is tall, but not the tallest doll in the family! Here she is next to Fernanda, my Karito Kids doll, who is about an inch taller although slimmer. Karito Kids dolls are in fact just slightly skinnier than American Girl dolls, so they have a much easier time sharing clothes.

In conclusion, I highly highly recommend this doll. She's absolutely sublime! I'm so thrilled to have her here, and I'm looking forward to having lots of adventures with her.

Obviously I'm far from Australia, but my Amy will still live her life as if she were in a suburb outside of the city of Adelaide. I've been looking at pictures of the geography of the state of South Australia, and there are some places in the mountainous parts that look pretty similar to the desert southwest where I live. So Amy will have no idea she's actually in the USA. Don't tell her the truth!

[v3nusstardust]

🌷 My girl 🌷

Pairing : Huening Kai x INSECURE!reader

Genre : Fluff, comfort, v sad ig

WARNING : Mentions of eating disorders, reader talks down on herself

a/n : i hope yall like :3 Srry for such angsty stuff u guys i am js a girl . Also eeuuugh college is kicking my ass so sorry for not being consistent ☝️😢 but erm yeah enjoy , lmk if u fw it 🩵🥸

🎀

"What color dress should I get?" you asked, your fingers gliding over the luxurious fabrics of the fancy dresses. Kai, with a thoughtful expression, replied, "I think... green.

Your eyes met his, and a subtle smile formed on your lips. "Mm, I want one that's not just stylish but also comfortable—a dress you won't regret picking for me," you sighed, continuing the search for the perfect green gown.Kai's gaze lingered on a particular dress as he gently pulled it from the rack. "How about this one?" he suggested, presenting a knee-length, sparkling emerald green dress. The sequins shimmered in the ambient light, casting a magical glow. Kai truly had an eye for fashion.Your eyes widened with delight as you took in the sight of the dress. "It's stunning," you breathed, reaching out to touch the fabric.

As you took the sparkly green dress from Kai, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details of the fabric. "I love the sparkles; they add a touch of magic to it," you remarked, running your fingers over the sequins that caught the light. Kai's heart skipped a beat as your eyes lit up. "Do you want to try it on now? Or are you still looking?" he asked, his voice carrying a subtle warmth."I'll try it on now!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a big, warm smile. Your smile was so gorgeous, alluring, imperfectly perfect and Kai loved it.

You and Kai went into the fitting room together. This was a normal thing for you both, except for some reason even though Kai had seen all of you, he still would turn around when you were changing.

“Tell me when you’re done.” He said, facing towards the wall. He was most likely on his phone playing cookie run.

You carefully took off your regular clothes and slipped into the dress, being extra cautious not to damage it. The dress felt nice and comfy—no itchiness, which was a relief. However, as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. The problem wasn't with the dress itself, it was more about how it made you feel. You were used to wearing loose, baggy clothes because you felt a bit insecure about your body, especially your weight. The dress, although pretty, hugged your body in a way that you weren't used to, and it made you uncomfortable.You stared at your reflection, trying to see if the dress looked better from different angles. But no matter how you looked at it, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Baggy clothes had always been your go-to because they hid the parts you were insecure about. This dress, on the other hand, exposed those insecurities.

Standing there, scrutinizing yourself in the mirror, a mix of emotions swept over you. The weight of the dress seemed to carry the weight of your insecurities, and soon, tears began to stream down your cheeks, betraying the internal struggle you tried so hard to conceal. Your chest tightened, and you tilted your head up, desperately attempting to keep your composure.

You fought against the overwhelming surge of emotions. You clenched your fists, willing the tears to stop. Small sniffles and hiccups escaped from you, revealing the depth of your emotional turmoil.

Though Kai was indulged in his game, he still heard the sounds of your sobs and sniffles. He didn’t want to turn around because he was afraid of invading your privacy without consent (SWEET BOYYY).

Concern etched across his face, he hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should intervene. His instincts, however, propelled him to turn around slowly.

“Wow. Y/n that dress is gorgeous on you darling. It goes perfectly with the color of your hair an-”

You turned around to meet his gaze. The vulnerability in your eyes told him more than words ever could. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. You attempted to respond, but your voice wavered with the weight of unspoken emotions. "I...I hate my body" you quietly sobbed, your vulnerability laid bare. He knew you struggled with an eating disorder in the past.

Kai's expression softened, and he came closer, pulling you into his warm embrace. The scent of his cologne enveloped you, creating a cocoon of comfort. "My love, you are so gorgeous. That dress looks so perfect on you, but remember, you're more than how you look in a dress," he whispered tenderly, his words like a soothing melody. Gently, Kai brought one hand up to wipe away the soft tears that adorned your flushed cheeks. “My beautiful girl. So gorgeous and pretty.” He murmured. His face hid in the crook of your neck, causing his voice to send shivers down your spine. Kai placed soft yet rough kisses to your jawline, neck and lips.

Despite the abundant love surrounding you, tears continued to flow down your cheeks. Kai tenderly ran his fingers through your soft hair, savoring the fragrance of your shampoo. "I love you. I love your body. The dress looks so beautiful. You have no idea how breathtaking you are," he murmured, his words a gentle reassurance.

His gaze locked with yours as he held you close, his hands now tenderly rubbing small circles on your stomach. The touch was so gentle, so soft, that it made you feel vulnerable yet cherished. In that moment, Kai treated you like an elegant piece of glass, handling you with such delicacy , so afraid you might break any moment.His fingers traced comforting patterns, each touch a silent promise of understanding and acceptance. I cherish you, every part of you," he continued, his voice a soothing melody. "You're like a rare gem, and I'll always handle you with the utmost care." His eyes held a depth of sincerity,

Soon enough, your tears stopped. “Are you okay, my girl?” Kai questioned placing gentle kisses on your hands. “Yes, I’m okay. Thank you Kai.” You smiled at him. “I’m hungry. Let’s get the dress and then can we.. get some food?” You asked. His face lit up with happiness.

“Of course we can. How does pizza sound?~”

[you-can-call-me-fangs]

Illumi Headcannons I Have I Don't Think Other People Have (NSFW Edition)

a/n: This is honestly just a glorified list of Illumi smut ideas that I'm trying to keep track of and I need to free up space in my drafts, but still facts

Contains: brief mention of cnc via hypnosis, praise kink, feminization/femboy Illumi, incest kink (I think) but not really maybe incest roleplay? (I dont know), Illumi's internalized homophobia shows up for a second

Illumi is a pillow princess and I will die believing that

How can you tell me he's NOT a pillow princess? He practiaclly has to carry the Zoldyck family on his back because Killua's away and won't do it himself all while holding a steady job and now your telling me he does all the work in bed too? Nah fam

He's not doing anything, except maybe from time to time he'll give you a blowjob or ride you but he's not doing anymore than that

He likes to be in any postion with you where he can look at you because duh, it's Illumi

When Illumi is really getting into it with you -and probably a fair bit of overstimulation- his claws will retract out

Most of the time his hands end up clutching your back and he'll accidentally scratch you really really hard, to the point where he's not just leaving red marks on you but is full on tearing your skin open most times

It's not his fault he doesn't do it on purpose it just happens in the moment

This has definitely resulted in multiple sheets and pillows getting torn apart too

Illumi will honestly do pretty well with degradation, he gets a little turned on at the thought of you taking his usually stoic and expressionless demeanor and turning him into a messy slut for you, and then you verbally pointing this out to him, he can't help but get a little flustered, but you wanna know where the real money makers at? Praise

Please praise him, like, all the time

The praise can come in any form too, you can praise him for how well and deep he's taking you inside himself, praise him for how long he can hold out from cumming after you told him not to, praise him for sucking your cock so nicely, even just calling him a good boy the whole time is high praise to Illumi

I don't think Illumi actually full on blushes either he has more of a subtle blush where only his ears and the back of his neck will turn pink, most of his face won't actually change color that much

But expect to see him blushing the most after you've praised him, I'm telling you it works like magic on him!

Illumi will sometimes just straight up start shivering typically from overstimulation

You'll not so accidentally keep thrusting perfectly into the spot that drives him crazy and the way that he will react is by shaking (and maybe a little wimpering) his body just doesn't know how else to react

Illumi is usually pretty good at keeping his moans in and even prefers to do that

It's not that he doesn't want you to hear his moans it's just that he's been taught his whole life to be silent so it feels unnatural to him to make so much noise

Luckily for you it gets really hard for Illumi to hold back his moans when he's so fucked out he barely knows what's going on around him

By the way his moans are ✨gorgeous✨ like the kind of sound you would only ever hear in heaven because they're so angelic and pretty

Not too loud but not too soft either they're just the perfect volume everytime

He even has those dragged out kind of moans- UGH it's beautiful, he's beautiful, I can't stand it!

Illumi lowkey wants to put himself under the control of his pins and give you the control to do whatever you want with him where he can't say no

I don't know if it's actually plausible for Illumi to hypnotize himself with his own nen ability, but if it is, he's on board with it

A secret sort of guilty pleasure for Illumi is when you call him your brother, whether you call him your little brother or your big brother is gonna have differing effects too

If you call him big brother Illumi gets this weird sense of pride, like he was able to provide for you in way that only he could, he was able to help fulfill your sexual wants and do it in a way that really satisfied you, it feels fucking amazing to him

A sort of 'I'm happy if you're happy' situation

Now if you call him little brother...oh boy

In Illumi's mind he's already giving you so much control over him, please do whatever you want to him and don't worry about how he feels it's all about you, you are the "older brother" after all

Even if he's taller than you he will feel so small compared to you

Illumi has a secret urge to where feminine clothing but he's been repressing the shit out of it ever since he saw the way his family treated Alluka, but whenever he's around you he feels comfortable enough to wear that type of clothing in front of you and show it off for you, but only you and no one else

The type of feminine clothes he would wear are your usual femboy outfits, skirts, dresses, maid outfits, even shoes with a heel to them, he's willing to wear it all, not only does Illumi like dressing up girly but he looks damn good while doing it

Illumi is a homophobic homosexual, there I said it, he will have full on bl sex with you, will let you top and everthing, the whole shebang, but the minute you try to hold his hand during sex, he immediately pulls his hand away and tells you how gay that is. Like, to your face asks you why would do something that gay? Sir, I am inside you right now, what sick game is this?

[prince-kallisto]

I saw this Terror is Trending Halloween home screen art for the first time yesterday. It’s absolutely gorgeous but it was oddly hard to find online.

Isn’t it strange how much Crowley stands out despite all the chaos in the background? Something about his colors and saturation stands out compared to the rest of the cast. Even though all the other characters wear black, Crowley’s color palette is more vibrant. Me and @snakevsnis noticed (at the same time lmao we have Crowley telepathy fr) that besides Grim, CROWLEY is the only one with a face. Look closely: no one else has any facial features painted in. The closest we get is Idia and Ortho, but their “faces” are just pumpkin heads for their costume.

Except for Crowley, who is smiling and watching over everyone. And is his (barely visible) eye looking back at us??

NAHDJXJDJSJS WHAT??? My beloved moot also pointed out how everyone else looks blurry, but Crowley is very clear and sharp. No matter where you look, it feels like the center of attention of this art is Crowley.

I don’t really know what to say about this except that’s it’s really suspicious 🧐 Crowley hardly shows up in official art, so it’s strange that he shows up LIKE THAT in the first event to have their own unique home screen art, especially with Grim RIGHT NEXT TO HIM. I’m going to be talking a lot about the Spectral Soirée event soon but this is very underrated.

Strange how he, Grim, and Malleus have the biggest tendencies to be “aware” of the viewer in official art 🧐 I feel even more certain that there’s a connection between them, but this Halloween Crowley art is just unsettling from how subtle the differences are.

[hecatemoon87]

This story will eventually involve smut. Minors DNI.

Chapter 1

It didn't take Johnny long to notice the gorgeous dark-haired woman coming and going from the bar where he and his biker club haunted. He was acquainted with the majority of the bar's patrons, but she was new and most importantly, different.

She was classy, elegant even. The women that frequented the bar were sexy and tough. And Johnny was very fond of them. But he suddenly found himself craving for something more...delicate.

The woman was slender and was always well dressed. Today, she wore a form fitting light blue office style dress with high heels. Her hips swayed lightly as she walked from behind the bar and toward the exit. As she slipped out the door, Johnny got up and followed.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon as he reached the parking lot. He scanned the cars and bikes, but did not see the woman. Until he heard a silvery, but even toned voice from behind him.

"Looking for someone?" she said, leaning against the outside wall facing the parking lot. He turned around and nodded. "Yeah, I was. And I think I found her."

He casually approached her, keeping a respectful distance and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. The woman arched an eyebrow. He could tell she was slightly apprehensive of him.

"I'm Johnny," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"That so? And, uh, what's a classy dame like you doing around a joint like this?" he asked.

"Well, this joint is owned by my uncle. I don't think it's that bad," she said.

"You're Big Sal's niece? I mean no offense to Sal, but ain't no way a pretty thing like you is related to him," Johnny said, chuckling.

She shrugged, "Well, we are related."

"You said you know who I am?" he asked. Johnny was pretty sure everyone within a two hundred mile radius knew who he was. But he just wanted to know what she thought.

"Yes, you're Johnny, the leader of the Vandals," she said, her gaze dropping away from his. That little gesture indicated to Johnny that she was shy and it made his heart flutter all the more.

"Now, here you know my name and I don't know yours. I'm at a disadvantage don't you think?" he said, softly.

He slow closed the space between them and raised his right arm, resting the palm of his hand against the brick wall. He still allowed adequate space between them as to not spook her.

She glanced up again, her eyes were the color of deep honey, illuminated by the dying light of the day. Johnny swallowed hard, he definitely wanted to get to know her more.

She seemed hesitant in giving him her name, but finally said, "Amelia."

"Amelia," he said in his deep, husky voice. "That's a lovely name. So, Amelia, you're just visiting your ol' uncle Sal?"

"I'm assisting him with some accounting matters," she said, making Johnny laugh softly at how formal she spoke. Sal was a middle-aged Italian man, second generation, and was fairly foul mouthed. Johnny was certain Sal dropped out of school in the six grade, so the fact that his niece spoke so well amused him.

"Accounting matters, sounds very important," he said, leaning in just a bit more. He was now able to smell her perfume. It was subtle, but he detected a hint of vanilla and lavender. It made his chest rumble with approval.

She broke his gaze again, looking to the side, still resting against the wall. "I need to head home now," she said, softly.

"You got a ride?" he asked. She nodded, keeping her eyes cast down. He liked how long her eyelashes were, luscious and black against her cheeks.

"Yeah, but something is wrong with the engine, I'm waiting for my uncle to check it," she said, pointing over to a small, light green sedan that had seen better days.

"Mind if I take a look at it? I'd trust me over whatever your uncle Sal is capable of," Johnny said, walking over to her car. She followed him and watched as he popped the hood of the car.

"Start the engine, let's see what I'm working with," he said, waving her to the driver side of the car. Once she started the engine, a black smoke began to pour from the engine and a fill the parking lot. She shut the car off immediately and came back out to stand by his side.

Johnny looked at her in amazement. "How the hell have you been driving this thing?"

"It actually seems worse now," she said, innocently.

Johnny waved the remaining smoke away and took another look. He pulled out the oil wick and saw it was almost bone dry. "Sweetheart, when's the last time you had your oil changed?"

"Oil change?" she asked confused.

He shook his head in disbelief, this woman clearly had no idea about machines. "Just stay here a sec," he said, walking back into the bar. He walked back behind into Sal's office.

"You have a can of engine oil around here?" he asked Sal.

"Uh, yeah, in the supply closet, why?" Big Sal asked.

"Your niece doesn't have a clue about cars does she?" Johnny said.

"Nah, she's got book smarts, no idea about the other stuff," Sal said, rummaging around the supply closet.

With a can of oil in hand, Johnny returned to Amelia and filled her car with the oil. After he was done, he told her to start it again, and after the smoke settled, the car seemed situated.

Amelia got back out and walked over to him. "Um, thank you. I should probably learn a thing or two about cars," she said bashfully.

"You like bikes?" he asked, offhandedly.

"Oh, no...they're too fast and, um, dangerous," she said, shaking her pretty head.

"Yeah? Well, since I helped fix your car, why don't you repay me by going out on a date?"

Her doe eyes widened, and she appeared to be blushing. "Me?"

"Who else am I talking to?" he said, smiling.

"Um, well, I don't know...you're kinda..." she said, trying to find the words.

"Fast and dangerous?" he asked, coyly. "I think you'll change your mind after a good ride."

"Excuse me?" she asked, taken a back.

"About the motorcycle. Once you've had a good ride, you won't be able to get enough," he said, grinning smugly. He knew what he was saying, and he didn't mean the motorcycle.

[sonkitty]

Crowley S2 Hair Post #1 Redone v2

(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)

This post was last updated 04/02/2024.

Take it all in.

Treasure it for all that it is.

Because you will never see this hairstyle this clearly on Crowley ever again, not even from different angles...unless there's a treat waiting for us in season 3. But otherwise, no, that's all we get of this gorgeous, gorgeous shot.

...

Sideburn Check

Before we see Crowley pull that newspaper down, we are given a profile view of his right side of his face and can see his right sideburn. This sideburn looks short but is a little longer than the shortness we'll eventually see is the intended shortness after driving the car for a long enough time.

Let's take a look:

Wow, that is really hard to tell, but I'm still going to go with thinking it is little longer.

So, why is it a little longer in this human space that is the park?

Theoretically, it's a combination of factors that add up to Crowley making that newspaper his own personal door to manage his own personal space. I'll cover that more in the Earthly Objects section. It might also help that this human space is a more familiar one to him.

Two characters are going to show up, at different times, and there will be no interaction from him to them until he has deliberately pulled the newspaper down from his face. That is to say, he passes through his designated threshold to talk to them.

Once the newspaper goes down, we'll see the sideburns some more. They will look similar in length. It's hard to be sure due to the angles and expressions on his face.

...

Brighter Red Streak Check

In our initial view of Crowley, we can't see the streak. Once the newspaper goes down, it will become evident. That means we have to be suspicious of the fact that we didn't get to see it at the start of the scene because this story lies. Repeatedly. Something is amiss with its chronology. There is possibly a book somewhere in here and a lot of games messing with our heads.

There is a weird blocking and blurring thing happening all the time in GO2, and it's really overt in this scene. Basically, Crowley's right profile view from the side of the bench is going to just keep being blurry, so that we still can't really see the streak in those particular shots.

Otherwise, on the more clear front or other angled shots, it's more clear the brighter red streak is there.

Hairstyle Changes

Crowley's hairstyle changes frequently during GO2. It will even change in really subtle ways during scenes, such that I simply cannot catch every style. The style when Crowley pulls down the newspaper for the first time is actually something like in between the first shot we see with the profile view and then another shot after it when Shax arrives. You probably won't catch that if you aren't trying. I missed it when I was first studying this stuff some months ago.

Far more subtle, and admittedly iffy—I could just be seeing what I want to see—but to me, it looks like the initial right profile shot has a more obvious gradient. The hair towards the bottom matches his season 1 color better and gets brighter up until the top. The after-pushing-newspaper-down style has a gradient, but there is even less of the season 1 color on the bottom area, as if the hair itself is transforming into its new season 2 state. Here's a comparison view if you wish to decide for yourself:

Here's the original collection I made from this scene before realizing the first style at least is different:

Now with streaks indicators too:

So with all of the above in mind, I reached the following conclusions back when first trying to figure out the hair generally...

(1) Crowley's hair is now a brighter red than season 1, including season 1 present day and season 1 flashbacks.

(2) There is yet an even brighter, more saturated, streak of red hair above his left eye.

(3) His sideburns are longer than they were in season 1. At this point, we have no comparison to season 2 present day, but they are going to get both longer and shorter than what is seen here in this same episode.

(4) In this scene, the hair is lighter and more saturated on his left side; it is darker on his right side. For episode 1 at least, in my past notes, that was standard for most of it.

(5) I can't tell you what the top style is telling us about Crowley's mood, but it does seem to do that, at least sometimes. I'll point out if I think I notice it at times later.

(6) The left sideburn does not have as much hair as the right sideburn. Just as the color of the hair is lighter on the left, it seems the left sideburn is supposed to be "lighter" than the right through that way. That seems to be the more frequent way these things work, but it does sometimes switch.

...

Earthly Objects

For Earthly Objects, one of the reasons "earthly" is specified in the name of the game is touches can depend on how an object is used on Earth, instead of just limiting things to tangible objects and physical touches. For example, looking through a window is an earthly object touch because people look through windows to see things on Earth.

Next, I am going to talk about pockets, so this part is going to get ridiculous. You might want to skip down to the next "..." if my saying the newspaper is like a personal little door for Crowley was enough. My understanding of pockets is limited, but I'll share that limited understanding nonetheless.

Before we get to a lovely right profile view of Crowley, there's lens flare rainbow stuff!

Pockets love rainbows combined with Crowley. We can blame Elvis Presley and his song, "A Pocketful of Rainbows". The most noticeable and seemingly official rainbow, in my opinion, is the one right before Crowley himself appears in the cut. I have indeed, checked frame by frame, to see that technically it has not fully disappeared once Crowley himself is visible. It's really close though!

Okay, back to when we get a closer view of Crowley on his initial profile view.

Crowley has his back to the bench. He has his elbow on the arm rest. He has his line of sight directed at the newspaper as if reading it. Those are 3 possible earthly object touches right there. Crowley is holding the back of the newspaper with only two visible fingers. They are the index finger and the middle finger. Only the index finger is showing its tip. That's not enough to receive credit for touching the newspaper physically as an earthly object yet. He'll get that later, when he wants it done. The other two partly visible fingers on the front are probably significant as well.

For the record, I do not like talking about the pockets as frequently or to the extent that I do. I talk about them because I've noticed they are important. They irk me because they are the hardest part of these games for me, at the present moment. I am downright incapable of solving The Pocket Trick to my own satisfaction. A key mechanic in that Trick is the use of word play. Another is to use one's imagination.

One of the first things to know here about Crowley's super advanced play in Earthly Objects and pockets is that his tie strands are connected to his hands because they are his Tied Hands. It's actually really funny when it sinks in, but it does make the game so, so hard. These silly cute Tied Hands have thumbs. The thumbs are the tassels, so the tips of those tassels are the thumb tips.

Thumb tips matter for Door Mode.

Due to Crowley's posture, there is a pocket between his right arm and the bench itself. His right jacket sleeve is open enough that there is yet another evident pocket existing between his shirt sleeve and his jacket sleeve. This pocket is the key one of interest to me because the newspaper touches it. Even so, there is still another pocket formed between the newspaper, Crowley's right hand, and his clothing that the newspaper touches so long as a breeze isn't messing with it.

Those tassel tips I mentioned earlier...are on his pants. That's why I'm spending so much time on this part by the way. There's some metal thing sticking out that only ever sticks out here touching the vest. The belt is his Belt Head, which the vest does like to touch at other times. So, if this metal is somehow the buckle from the belt—since I can't see it being the tie or anything else, that's probably supposed to be its "tongue" while the other visible part of the snake on the belt is pocketed between the vest tips. Based on how the game plays itself, the Belt Head is helping the Tied Hands in ways beyond my comprehension, so Crowley can take advantage of pockets. What? Do they need belt assistance to be tied because he's sitting down and the watch is not on screen? Somewhere in here is Door Mode on the clothing, channeling its way through pocket imagination powers, so that all of the apparel can work together and give Crowley his newspaper door.

Apparently, this method requires the watch to not be visibly on screen for now. I really want to know what the watch's job is for silly pocket mechanics.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Check out the self-made pocket of hair since we have an active Belt Head messing with things:

Yeah, sure, could be nothing, but The Pocket Trick is really, really intentional about these types of things, and even though this scene is not one of the touches in The Pocket Trick, pockets are still relevant. I mainly suspect such things because of those tassel tips.

Even some of his hair is pocketing the collar of his jacket. The profile shot is so precise, none of the left part of his sunglasses can be seen.

While we're at it, Crowley's sitting really still. He'll be standing really still later in episode 6 with a more obvious pocket touch for The Door Trick. Said Trick is another big part of why I'm noting so much about the pockets by the way. It also has a self-made pocket of hair visible in the first cut.

Okay, that's enough about pockets. Finally! They'll be mentioned later but not to this extent.

...

During the scene after Shax shows up, Crowley's going to touch some mail. We'll see his shoes on the ground at one point. A notable earthly object touch is the first one he gets when Shax shows up after he pulls the newspaper down. He's going to see himself in the mirror. Crowley does not see the way humans see most of the time. He senses with his eyes. But a mirror's actual literal function on Earth is generally to look at yourself, or something of interest.

One of the ways Crowley can and does see is if someone—or something, is deliberately showing him an earthly object. So, by Shax holding the mirror and Crowley intentionally looking at it, with its general actual function, he theoretically sees himself.

That's helpful to him because based on his actions during the story, he doesn't sense that the sideburns themselves have changed length when they do, even if he's using them to manage his space. He checks by looking in the mirror if possible and necessary, notably in his car. Catching when he might be looking at all is harder than this one part of this one scene. He is quite subtle about it. This game wants people to look closely to catch these types of things as they play and interpret the story.

The cut between Crowley holding the newspaper in profile view and pushing it down has him holding the newspaper differently with his fingers. That could be a suspicious chronology edit or it could be Crowley testing/managing the bounds of his created space or both.

...

You can see some of the sky and dark parts of trees reflected in Crowley's sunglasses. I consider that significant because it's a clue among several others that great care is taken to what is and is not reflected in his sunglasses during this story. You can find out more about why I think that's important here: The Window Trick Visual Representation.

...

Story Commentary

I don't know what the stillness does, but I suspect it is relevant because of how still Crowley is near the end of episode 6 when standing by the door to the car. My overall guess has been that it helps Crowley be sensed or seen since humans often don't actually approach him with the exception of Nina later. However, one human approaches him here before Shax will later arrive.

Due to how I play these games, Crowley's seeming listlessness here actually strikes me as more of a strategic move than what it looks like on the surface. He has his saturated streak. He has his sideburns. He had his newspaper door. He's messing with pockets without even putting actual hands in pants pockets yet. There was a rainbow. This sneaky snake is up to a lot, and he's hiding the extent of what that is from Shax and whoever else is reading him in the story.

When Crowley leaves, he will pass by Shax with him in the background. He is blurred, and there's something gold around where he's holding the newspaper, that is presumably his bills. After he passes Shax, you can't see the presumed bills anymore. Due to the angle? In this story, I'm skeptical, but yeah, could be. Crowley's going to be conveniently obscured many times throughout the season.

Based on this timeline rundown post, this scene could easily be out of order from the presented story. The sunlight and rainbow stuff is too confusing for me to understand in trying to figure out the time, but I think the idea this scene takes place out of order is a good, valid one. The basis from that post is the chimes I didn't notice on my own and wouldn't even know what they mean if I had noticed.

Not only that, in my watching the scene repeatedly to try and figure out what pocket mischief Crowley's up to next, I noticed the tie strands keep just swapping what side of the vest they are on in different cuts with no indication he moved to make them do that. It's not every cut, but it happens. He's a demon, so he could just do that because he wants to, of course.

The scene has ducks and some other birds. While some birds do appear when Crowley makes it rain in episode 3, animals are otherwise rather lacking in appearance once closer to Whickber Street and wherever Crowley parks his car when it's isolated.

The scene is nicely lit, thanks to the sunlight. We actually aren't going to see Crowley's hair this well lit for quite a bit of the story due to the other settings, especially the dimly lit bookshop.

That's it for this post. Way back when I started to track these things, I did have a tendency to update even these posts, so that could happen again, just FYI.

...

Past versions of this post:

Post #1 (meeting with Shax in St. James' Park)

Post #1 with mistake

...

Project inspired by these posts:

Crowley’s Sideburns & what do they mean?

Ok, I love this theory that it could be some sort ...

[margumis]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆BLR GALA⋆⭒˚｡⋆

the theme is... star crossed lovers

Welcome to the grand steps! I'm excited to see you here, you look absolutely ravishing darling! Go ahead an make your way up the stairs.

Bottom of the Stairs:

The cameras are flashing to capture your jaw dropping look! I need to know, who and what are you wearing tonight? I want to see accessories, shoes, the hair, give it all to me! And remember darling, this is no ordinary gala. Some theme inspiration.

Not sure what to wear? Mara Wintour has you darling, apply for an outfit! Give me a basic vision, a color, an extraterrestrial element you feel inspired by, silhouettes you feel sexy in, the more you can tell, the better.

The Halfway Point:

The cameras are starting to ease up, but not enough to miss you posing with your friends and... a partner reveal?!? Oh this is juicy! Who's arm is snug on your waist tonight, looking at you like you strung the stars in the... venue.

Couldn't pick a date? Oh so understandable. Send me a list of your potential dates and tell me about your relationship a little, I'll then decide which plus one accompanies you up the steps. Oh honey, you don't even have options? That's okay, you might just meet someone inside the gala (wink). Give me some qualities about yourself, along with your ideal partner so I know who to accidentally shove into you tonight.

Top of the Stairs:

Interview time! Me and the people want to know some things, of course these are all optional, you're completely free to avoid the interview section. You're also free to fire back with your own questions!

Who/what inspired this look?

Anyone you're excited to see inside the gala?

Who is someone you'd consider your fashion inspiration?

Is this your first gala? or are you a veteran at this sort of thing?

The details of your outfit are otherworldly!! What subtle part of your outfit is your favorite?

Do you have a different persona for these carpet events? Do they have a name?

Enjoy the event gorgeous, you'll be turning heads all night!

This is primarily an RSVP event, those guests hold priority, but regardless anyone can join.

[look-at-the-soul]

The Runway- Part 4

Lenny Miller x reader (Cillian Murphy role for movie Anna)

Series Master list

A/N: You’ll see a little crossover with The Photoshoot (my Cillian’s series) 🥰📸

Opening the door to her suite, Y/N was greeted by a gorgeous bouquet of fresh flowers in every possible color. With the biggest smile on her face, she leaned towards it to capture the incredible smell.

“I didn’t write a card, I’m… terrible with words.” Lenny stated leaning against the doorframe.

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from her face as she walked towards Lenny. London Fashion Week seemed blurry to her, compared to the mind blowing days she had with Lenny; private dinners after taking the runways, stealing short kisses before every show, glances here and there, a subtle touch when no one was looking… she had been daydreaming since the moment she opened her eyes, until she was able to be alone with him.

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N greeted him with a short peck on the lips.

“How was the photoshoot?”

That made her eyes sparkle with happiness.

“Amazing! The photos turned out great, I saw a sneak peek and trust me, it’s going to be a major thing… thank you for letting me do it.” Y/N walked towards her wardrobe to change into something more comfortable, she still had glitter on her hair, but that would have to wait until the following morning because she was exhausted, after one press conference, two fashion shows and a four hours photoshoot, she was drained for the day.

“I would never take a project from you.” Lenny allowed himself to enjoy the process of seeing the real Y/N take over; as she removed the make up and washed her face, she showed him like she really was.

“You know what I mean, I signed that contract behind Richardson’s back, he would’ve never allow me to participate in a campaign like this.”

It was about lingerie made for all body shapes, sizes and with different beauty styles, Y/N loved to share the screen with women who felt confident about their bodies, skin type and marks.

“This isn’t about looking at a women’s body in a sexual way, it’s about feeling beautiful in whatever package you have, you know? This stigmatization the industry has made us all believe that you have to be a certain size to use sexy underwear has a terrible impact because no matter how hard we try, we’ll never be enough.”

It had been such a great experience to stand next to beautiful women, with gorgeous skin tones, freckles, plus size, stretch marks, short hair, a birth mark. Literally every kind of beauty. She was inspired by this project, by the impact it would have. She could easily imagine the publicity it would get, to reach so many women who might identify with one of the ambassadors. This lingerie wasn’t looking to reach the average women only, they wanted the entire community.

The brand wanted to make every single women out there feel beautiful.

Lenny loved to hear her talk about her passion, and building a women’s confidence was one of those topics that made her smile bigger.

“I felt particularly comfortable with the photographer, her name is Yael Murphy and she flew in from Dublin, lovely person, she had a brilliant idea! The message is clear, wear that gorgeous lingerie today, don’t leave it for a special occasion.” Y/N blushed realizing how they started talking about something they haven’t done yet, they still needed to take that step in their relationship, but it was still early days.

Lenny realized the embarrassment in her eyes.

“Of course I’d support your decision to be part of this project, if it’s important to you, it matters to me.”

He would never be able to even imagine the impact his words had on her.

Y/N gave him a small peck on the lips.

“Am I allowed to ask about your real job?”

He shook his head, feeling frustrated for having to keep things away from her. “It’s for your own safety.”

“What? Are there hidden microphones around or what?”

She joked, but Lenny quickly turned up the volume of the television, and taking her hand, he guided her towards the kitchen, after turning on the blending *(?) machine and when the noise covered his voices, he whispered:

“Y/N, this is an official investigation.” The serious tone in his voice and the look in his eyes, made her skin crawl, sometimes it was easy to forget about that with how much the shows demanded from her. “You need to remember I’m not a real model agent.”

“Do they know that we’re together?”

“Romantically? No, that’s why I tell you to come to my room.”

“So you really set up microphones in my suite?”

Lenny sighed. “It wasn’t me, it’s part of the investigation, my team is monitoring your sister 24/7 therefore your suite as well.”

Y/N felt a knot in her stomach at the privacy invasion. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, yet it made her feel uneasy to know there were people listening to her phone conversations, they were able to know absolutely everything about her.

“It’s fine, Y/N they’re only looking for something that leads us to the missing girls.”

Y/N seemed to think about it for a moment, Lenny took the opportunity to grab her by the waist to pull her body towards him.

“I want this to be over.” She relaxed against his chest, while Lenny experimented something he had never felt before.

“I’m not stopping until I find who did this.” He turned off the blending machine.

“Okay, so if you can’t talk, you’ll answer my questions at least.” Y/N proposed with a grin, Lenny was in his usual serious character and she wanted to know more about him.

Lenny squinted his eyes at her and stole a few almonds from her bowl.

“Can I ask how did you became an agent?” Y/N lowered her voice into a whisper for the last part.

Lenny made a face, “can’t say that, confidentiality agreement.”

Y/N opened her eyes. “Oh, okay… what’s the most boring part of your job?”

“Nothing is boring.” Lenny gave her a half smile.

“If you could be anything else, what would you choose and why?”

Lenny raised an eyebrow. “Why would I change this?”

Y/N groaned. “You really can’t answer anything?”

Lenny shook his head. “It’s for your own safety, trust me.”

“Okay you win, I should start asking you what’s your favorite place to go on vacation but I assume you don’t visit the beach often.”

That made a Lenny laugh.

“Where would you like to go on vacation? Given the fact that you’ve been around the world.” He asked.

He saw her the way her smile lit her entire face. “Somewhere away from people, a quiet little place where no one can recognize me.” Y/N sighed. “I love being surrounded by nature.”

Lenny nodded thinking already of an idea.

“Venice or Greece.” Lenny stated. “Never been there, or somewhere beautiful like Puerto Rico.”

Y/N could totally picture herself strolling down the street in summer dress next to Lenny wearing sunglasses and shorts. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his laugh.

But she was eager to know more about him, she wanted to go through every layer.

“So you know how to cook.” Her eyes scanned the plate Lenny prepared.

“I know enough to not starve myself.” Lenny chuckled, feeling comfortable enough to joke around her. “Salmon, great protein source, I added carrots, zucchini and asparagus,I know you don’t eat potatoes and tomatoes.”

“No, if I do, I get bloated the next day.” In a surprising motion, Y/N took Lenny by the face to kiss him, feeling so grateful not only by his company, but his sweet details.

“I’m going to cook more often.” Lenny winked at her. “What’s the fashion mistake you regret the most?”

“For a photoshoot, they asked me to bleach my hair, I don’t know back then I was allergic to an ingredient and had an awful reaction all over my face and my hair started to fall of… I had to wear wigs for months, because they cut it really really short.”

“That’s terrible.” Even though Y/N wasn’t vain, Lenny was aware of the importance of image in the industry.

“I think you were the party boy in high school,” Y/N guessed moments later, “with a bunch of girls in love with you.”

“No.” He chuckled.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, while a Lenny sipped on his wine.

“Which part?” She asked leaning on the back of the couch.

Lenny gave her a smile, a genuine and lightning one. “So you really think I’m the heartbreaker type?”

“Of course you’re!” Y/N wrapped her arms around him and felt Lenny relax under her touch.

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t, all the opposite… I tried to blend in, never stand out.”

“Why?” Y/N was shocked.

Lenny shuddered, thinking about the right answer.

“I was trying to get good grades, I suppose.”

“So you were smarty.” She rounded the couch to sit next to him, loving the small glimpses of him she was learning.

“I had to, needed to maintain my scholarship.” For an instant, he was back in time into his small home listening how there wasn’t money enough to pay the rent that month. Lenny shook his head to get rid of the memory.

“And just look how far you got.” She praised. “You should be proud.”

“Can’t do that until I find these bastards.” Lenny got tense again, thinking how he wasn’t doing enough.

“You’re working really hard, don’t belittle your work.” Y/N tried to comfort him,but Lenny’s mind was now somewhere else, his expression changed and he had this dense energy around him.

“That won’t bring those girls back, Y/N.”

He should be focusing on the investigation, not catching up with his girlfriend, but as soon as Lenny looked over at Y/N he realized he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry, shouldn’t have taken that on you.”

But instead of playing the indignation game, Y/N understood the pressure he was under. So shaking her head, she offered; “can I help you with anything?”

Rubbing his eyes, Lenny cleared the dinning table and paced around the room with his hands on his hips.

“I think something’s up between Richardson and the photographer… did you ever noticed something that wasn’t right?”

Y/N seemed to think about it for a second.

“I was called to the office one day by mistake and when I entered his office, they had pictures of lots of women, when I asked if they were new models the agency hired, they quickly brushed me off from the office.”

Lenny stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, then he pulled out a radio from his belt and gave instructions to someone to follow the photographer before ordering to intervene his phone. Y/N looked at Lenny shocked by the tone of authority he talked with, the strategies he was demanding, a total different man from the manager she knew.

As he started typing in something very similar to a laptop, Lenny got a phone call. On the outside it looked like briefcase with a hard cover. “What are the charges?” Y/N saw his eyes scanning the screen, she wasn’t able to see a thing because it had some kind of protection to black everything out if you looked from a different angle.

His eyes were scanning something at speed.

“And he got released just because they never found the body? Who was the judge?” His jaw was clenched.

Another victim, he thought, an ex-girlfriend who passed away mysteriously was now linked to the photographer with whom she had a convenient relationship, according to text messages they agreed to sleep together as long as he could take pictures of the girl, then one night she never went back home. Although she wasn’t part of the group of girls they were looking for, maybe that would lead them to the right way.

“Get me everything, where was he flying on a private jet?” He snapped his fingers, getting Y/N’s attention. “Can we get anything from the plane? When they boarded? Yes, email me that, thanks.”

Richardson lead him to the photographer and him to a useless DJ that offered them both his private jet freely.

Y/N sighed, over the last few days she had learned that once Lenny got into working mood, he would hardly pay her any attention. To be honest she wasn’t try to distract him, she really admired how hard he worked, how invested he really was in the investigation. She yawned feeling exhausted already, the next day she would film a commercial for a make up brand and she would model for a shoes campaign.

But Lenny knew there’s nothing free in this world, so that hint might lead him somewhere. He decided to follow his intuition and start spying on the photographer and the DJ, there was something that simply didn’t match, there was no reason for Richardson to be so close to them.

Perhaps he should get more into the role of a model agent and get involved rom a different angle.

As he kept reading the reports, itineraries and background information, he rolled his shoulders, undoing his tie and the first button of his shirt. Taking a look around the room, he realized the tv was muted and Y/N was sleeping in an uncomfortable position on the couch, too short for her long legs.

Turning off the TV, he stared at Y/N in silence. He needed to be honest with himself for once, he was falling hard for her and deep down he knew that wasn’t the problem. As he took in her peaceful features, he couldn’t stop thinking how would he be able to make their relationship work once the investigation was over.

Rolling his neck, he slid his hands under her body to carry her all the way to her bedroom.

——

Lenny sipped on his third cup of black coffee, he was frustrated and annoyed. Felt like he was walking in circles and instead of getting closer, he was moving backwards. The jet lag was taking a toll on him, between airports, hotels, he was struggling to keep up with the dates and events. Luckily, Milan was the last stop of the fashion shows.

The most important show of the season.

He had learned that Milan was one of the four fashion capitals. And he knew all eyes would be on Y/N. The upcoming designers campaigns would depend of this runway.

No more fashion weeks for a while, finally he would be able to focus entirely on the investigation once they got back home.

If Anna was really involved, she was really smart covering her moves.

But as he was going through the evidence, he noticed in one of the videos from the cameras installed in the agency, there was Richardson visiting the photographer’s office, they walked to one of the rooms in the back of the agency and minutes later a girl stepped inside. There wasn’t anything unusual on it, he recruited lots of girls to become a model, it was part of his job, but he did notice that the girl never came out.

He forwarded the tape but only found the man in charge to do the cleaning on the building walked inside the room later.

Lenny gave up momentarily, he needed to focus, find the missing pieces.

An incoming call interrupted his thoughts. But it wasn’t good news.

Y/N was brushing her hair after taking a shower, she wanted to have breakfast with Lenny and then she would be driven to the venue where the last fashion show of the season would take place. Noticing his tense jaw, Y/N walked towards Lenny.

Rubbing his shoulders, she was able to read the screen of his phone.

The photographer’s ex-girlfriend, her name was Gillian Montgomery, she was the new Victoria Secret model. I found voice mail records with Richardson, they had an affair and possibly a threesome with the photographer several times, does it help boss?

Before Y/N could react after learning that about a model she used to know, Lenny’s statement took her by surprise.

“What the fuck do you mean Y/N isn’t closing the runway?!” He barked at the assistant. “Connect me to Donatella.”

*****

Part 5

A/N: if you made it this far, then thank you for reading! Should we have some Lenny smut? Idk how many parts are left, I’m letting the ideas flow freely… so maybe The MET Gala? Or the Victoria Secret Fashion show? You tell me what do you want 🥰

Tag list: @lyarr24 @cillmequick @lespendy @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @babaohhhriley @moral-terpitude @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @sydneyyyya @camilleholland89 @allie131313 @star017 @babayaga67 @imichelle-l-rigby @lovemissyhoneybee @jyessaminereads @emmanuelle19 @cillixn @polishcrazyone @flippittygibbitts @tinyminxie @shjjpm @viesanterieures @marissat1998 @creativepawsworld @heidimoreton @winchestergirl22 @l1-l4