#*.:｡. ✰ — ( &&. nightmare dressed like a daydream

[virgo-dream]

[KICKS DOWN DOOR] DID SOMEBODY SAY DREAMLING HEADCANON?

Let me try and think of something I've not seen before but 100% fervently believe to be true!!! ok ok---

Dream is def. a clotheshorse. Look at that battle skirt, god. Hob is not, 'least not in modern days. Headcanon: after they get together Dream is absolutely a sniffy little cunt about Hob's clothes. They're so banal. We've had Dream being cozy and fuckable in Hob's stolen sweaters and footie shirts. Let's have Hob being taken to a bespoke tailor's shop that may or may not exist in the Waking world and/or the mortal plane, strictly speaking. Dream is the owner and operator, and Hob the only customer. Hob doesn't just put up with it in some sweet, Hobbishly indulging way - he fucking loves it. He's a hedonist. Loves the feeling of expensive fabrics against his skin, the line of tailored clothes transforming his unchanging body, loves Dream's proprietary little smirk at dressing Hob. Loves the way Dream looks at him all the time now, knowing and pleased and heated. He's always loved good clothes. But these are great clothes. It gets so out of control that Hob has to tell his colleagues Dream is a tailor, because there's no way he'd be able to afford this otherwise. If he didn't have, you know. Boyfriend privileges. "You are a tailor though, sort of," says Hob, a bit soused after a faculty party, dressed like liquid sex in a gunmetal grey suit, "S'just, the fabric of the collective unconsciousness and all the words we've ever written." Dream is starting to smile when Hob adds, "Also, you brought this upon yourself." 'This' being Dream, reluctantly agreeing to produce a bespoke prom dress for department chair's daughter. Headcanon: due to his own hubris Dream accidentally spends the rest of that decade of Hob's 'life' moonlighting (daylighting?) as a reclusive fashion designer with a reputation for utter brilliance and eccentricity, who takes all his commissions exclusively by referral and vets clients, bizarrely, through his (now tenured, imagine that) history professor husband.

Dream enjoys it rather more than he expected. It's a little like designing dreams - or, in a few memorable cases, nightmares - for humans to wear. He understands the stories and power of clothing. He is soothed to be asked, over and over, for such a trivial boon: something to wear that they've been dreaming of. He enjoys having work in the Waking.

Mostly, though, he likes to look at Hob Gadling, marvel and living story, wearing his clothing. Wearing him. Moving through the world in sleeve and collar of his making, and saying, to all who look and all who ask: I am his.

Well, I knew I could count on you for some quality fashion headcanons Gloam!!! Border Country sends its regards I guess!!!!

But honestly, wouldn't he though? Because if you think about it, every piece of clothing ever designed had to be visualised or daydreamed in some way by the mind of a designer, and if it goes through the Dreaming, it is Dream's by proxy. So yeah, every couture design, every Gucci runway, every weird ass Balenciaga ready to wear monstrocity and every Schiaparelli gown has Dream's designing hands involved somehow.

And I can also imagine Dream making all of Hob's clothes, including the softest t-shirts and sweatpants, the silkiest pyjamas, the most comfortable jeans that are never too tight and never too loose either. And when he can't be around, Dream makes sure the clothes hug Hob in just the right way, to remind Hob that he's there, in spirit, as humans like to say, and that he'll try to be around as soon as possible.

Can you imagine Hob having a bad day and Dream just......... manifesting the softest most gentle clothes around him to hold him in bed as he would until he can be there himself? Or whenever Hob finds a student crying, there's always a handkerchief in his pocket, and somehow whenever any of his students wipe their tears with them they just have the most restorative night of sleep ever?

Dream making a suit for Hob to defend yet another thesis, and the suit being so comfortable and making Hob feel so so so confident it's insane.

Aaaaah the many many love languages of Dream of The Endless and his husband Hob Gadling whose love language is just Dream

[hstylesmermaid]

A Spectacular Fashion Voyage with Taylor Swift's Eras Tour!

As the final notes of the American leg of Taylor Swift's Eras Tour echo in our hearts, let's revel in the extraordinary fashion journey she's gifted us with! From the mesmerizing Lover era to the captivating depths of Reputation, each phase unveiled a distinct style, outfits that spoke volumes, and an aesthetic that transcended time.

She starts the show in her Lover Era with “Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince” followed by the first bridge of the night form “cruel summer”. For this era she has worn three custom bodysuits from Versace, all of them full of rain stones in shades os pink, blue, gold and purple, inspired byDuring this set in “The Man”, over the bodysuit, she wears a sparkly blazer as a dress, also from versace.

Fearless is next, Roberto Cavalli was in charge of creating these dresses that Swift rocked while dancing in a storm. The gold fringe dress was reminiscent of a similar look the designer created for her Speak Now Tour in 2011, the three dresses rememore the ones she wore back them, golden fringe and tassels that belong to her more than ever.

Long story short, while performing various songs from her album Evermore she took the stage in a yellow Etro dress that featured a corset top and beading detail down the front. For her magical performance of “Willow” she added a matching Etro cape. Playing into the woodsy nature of the Evermore album with a darker burgundy color and ruffles throughout Marco de Vincenzo, creative director of Etro, designed another dress for this set.

One of her most dramatic looks was the Roberto Cavalli one-legged jumpsuit. The design features a black sheer sleeve, glittering material and a three-dimensional embroidered snake motif winding from the bottom of her leg to the top of her neck. The ruby red snake contrasts with the black bezels of the design, it was reminiscent of the many bodysuits Swift wore during Reputation Tour as it was covered in black sequins scales.

For the end of a decade and the start of an age, she wore a custom-made Zuhair Murad Couture tulle ballgown – featuring beautiful beading, sequins, pearls and crystal embellishments all over the voluminous skirt and bodice. The impressive dress required 50 metres of tulle, while the elaborate design took more than 350 hours of handwork to create in the brand's atelier. In addition to the shimmering Zuhair Murad gown, after the release of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) she wore a beautiful lilac Nicole + Felicia ballgown, featuring a tiered tulle skirt that captured the light beautifully, thanks to its crystal-embellished finish. Another gown Swift fought dragons is was a Elie Saab one covered in flower apliqué and shimmery beading.

She was never good at telling jokes but the punchline goes, and she know it too well because she wore a sequinned Ashish t-shirt embroidered with quotes such as “Who’s Taylor Swift any wat? Ew”, “A lot going on at the moment” and “we are never getting back together like ever” with a Gladys Tamez Millinery hat that she gave to different fans every night.

So far we had a marvelous time leading to Folklore where the singer performed in a more delicate look in the form of a floaty, layered lilac dress by Alberta Ferretti. "Thinking about these stage dresses for her also pushed me to reflect on my career milestones," explained Ferretti. "I think what we have created reflects this journey where the key elements of my style stand out: lightness, femininity, romance, attention to detail and a delicate, gentle seduction." She wore a green chiffon gown with a deep neckline, flowing sleeves and embroidered leaf detailing, designed by Alberta Ferretti too. Swift added to her repertoire of beautifully designed dresses in a custom-made orange Etro gown, with an embroidered ruffled bodice.

Darling, she’s nightmare dressed like a daydream in three shimmering two-pieces by Roberto Cavalli. Its beautiful design gave the illusion of crystal water droplets, which moved effortlessly as she performed onstage. She wore the outfit with her go-to sequin Christian Louboutin boots. For the surprise song, Taylor topped this cavalli matching sets with Jessica Jones ruffled dresses in matching colours.

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, the last part of the show started with a midnight blue bodysuit full of sequins and rainstones with a matching garter by Oscar de la Renta. In a lighter shade of blue, Zuhair Murrad designed another beaded bodysuit. In the lasts shows in LA, she also wore a bodysuit similar to the one she wore in the 1989 tour, with cut-outs and fringe bottom. Every time, everybody agrees that Taylor Swift wears the best looks on stage, and for Anti-Hero Taylor wears her second Oscar de la Renta look consisted of a sequinned 'aurora borealis' T-shirt dress with a co-ordinating lavender faux fur coat, which also featured delicate crystal droplets. For Karma she vibes like that with a tassel coat just to say see you later to the swifties.

An epic wardrobe, just like her music, just like @taylorswift

If you want to know more about fashion you can follow me on ig itsjessania 🩷✨🫶🏻💕

[infernoroleplay-blog]

                                               ANAIS DELANNOY

THIRTY TWO. CON-ARTIST / SOCIALITE.

TRIGGER WARNING: THEMES OF DEATH AND MURDER.

Different names. Different countries. Different personalities. Anaïs Nin once said, "We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are," and the girl of the same name mirrors a thousand different people everyday, as she sees fit.

Anais Delannoy, originally Nadia Ivankova, was born to a Russian mobster in the raging 80's, in Siberia, in the heart of Novosibirsk. Though no one would dare such a thing as to call Nadia by her true name, she holds the girl she was dear to her heart. A girl tainted by the witnessing of her entire family's murder as she hid in the corner of a wooden wardrobe, with book in hand and pen on the other. Anais remembers the joys of writing whilst her father would polish his rifles and shotguns or sharpen his knives, she remembers the good typical food of Siberia and most importantly, the people who came after her siblings and parents on that evening, being the only survivor to an entire wiping out of her ancestry and her history.

She was eleven years old, a child, a heartbreak.

Bouncing from foster home to foster home, Anais learned to adapt and take on the different surnames that were given to her. The families that took her in were either in shock by her ability to read others or completely thrown off by her quick learning. Mostly, she would fit like a glove in any given place, any given minute, adhering to lies and deceit to adjust to her homes. Eventually though, the façade would slip and the mask would fall off her features, revealing a broken girl underneath. Nobody wanted the broken girl revealed, nobody wanted the façade. Parents expected perfection, and she found out her true calling manipulating people into believing she was, indeed, the girl they wanted her to be.

At least for a little while, it worked -- but it would always wear off, like ink, like melted plastic.

Anais got into small crimes as a teenager, pickpocketing being her favorite. It began small -- normally she would slip her grabby fingers into her adoptive mother's purse, or pry some money away from whoever she called father at that age. At sixteen, she got a little more daring -- or rather, a lot. She abandoned everything in Siberia, running to Moscow to start a new life without any adoptive parents or siblings tugging at her tail, at her every being. Then, she found out, she was free to be whoever she wanted: wild or conservative, young and at war, raging with a fire inside, Anais took on several different personalities, several different lovers, each for every day of the night, just so she wouldn't be as lonely.  It's not that she didn't like solitude -- but sometimes it became too much to bear, and the thoughts became dark and gritty, ricocheting mad in between nightmares and daydreams of her dead family.

She would work different jobs, more often than not she liked being a waitress at small diners in Moscow. She didn't hope for much (for it was a dangerous thing for a woman like her to have), but she took pleasure in fooling clients into giving her more money than necessary, and sometimes she pulled off different scams, either posing as a French socialite lost in the streets -- her favorite act -- or an English famous writer who had been robbed of everything. People bought it, after all, she was good at it: she had a good accent, she learnt English from the best of Dickens and Austen combined, and was a good conversationalist.

By then, she had forgotten Nadia almost entirely. She felt no longer broken, but full of potential, shimmery, polished like her father's guns: loaded and ready to aim. But being her father's daughter, she had a lingering feeling in her gut that Russia was not it -- she still had the whole world to conquer. However, she still needed to figure out whoever pulled the trigger on that cold Siberian night... And one name called out to her in particular: Dmitri Nikolayev.

Early 00's, LA, the shiny scene of celebrities, socialites and public figures all made of plastic and high couture... Anais fit in almost too perfectly amongst the tabloids and the scandals, making her way into the high society through her well-crafted lies and manipulation games. She became good at it, posing as Anais Delannoy: her newest, shiniest personality, it was alarming how inviting she was, fooling everyone she was charming and lying to herself she was meant for the Hollywood scene.

No one knew who she was and they loved it.

Yet the story of Nadia kept resurfacing from her core, no matter how hard she tried to bury it under, drown it out, play it down. The remembrance of a girl left in a wardrobe, watching the execution of her parents... The thought of it brought rage and tears and a personal vendetta against Dmitri Nikolayev himself, whose whereabouts she had heard of way back in Russia. She wasn't in LA just for the sake of it.

She was here for payback. For karma. Because if karma did not exist, she would become karma herself -- after all, she had taken on several different personalities, so just a little one wouldn't be difficult. She would play whatever role necessary, by all means necessary, put her red dress on and charm her way into Inferno, where she knew Dmitri would be.

Anais has been keeping her cover for years now, carefully crafting her vengeance plan. With the disappearance of Rebekah, however, things became more difficult, and everyone's got a target on their backs. For now she sleeps with a Russian soldier or two to gather as much information on him as possible, not revealing the façade of the broken bird Nadia, so that no one suspects it's the girl, the survivor, who's come from the ashes to claim what's always been rightfully hers: Dmitri's head delivered on a silver plate.

                                         CONNECTIONS

KARIM BASARA: He’s a good source of information, and a good drinker. She’s good at keeping up, but she cannot let her façade slip -- or else he’ll notice. Karim is a loyal Russian soldier, almost blinded by his loyalty to the Russians to the point of sheer naiveté. She truly feels bad for him, she does, for when it all falls down, he’ll have nothing to stand up for. They drink together, share secrets (of course, hers are nothing but fake), and she has managed to fool him so far... So far. 

AMBIKA PATEL: Ambika knows more than she should, and it shows. Anais is no fool, and she has befriended the woman with the sole purpose of getting something out of her.. You know how they say liquor tends to let secrets slip up, Ambika might be the person she needs as a solid alibi for Dmitri’s death -- once it happens, Ambika will be her personal witness and key to Anais’ pleaded innocence. 

ILYANA STOYANOVA: It shows that Nik and Dmitri don’t get along well... And if there’s someone precious making the connection between the Polish and Russian mobs, it’s Ilyana. She stands right in the middle of it: chaos, war, destruction. She’ll be proven useful if any information can be cracked out of her code. She can’t be bribed or bought for now, but if there’s something Anais knows, is that anyone can be bought. She just needs the right price.

VALERIE WHITTAKER: Valerie comes from a English high society type of background, or so it seems, but there’s something far too perfect about Valerie and it doesn’t smell good to Anais. She’s onto the woman’s tail, noticing she leaves no tracks behind her. If she’s another con artist, there might just be competition. For now she’s been biding her time, awaiting to see what Valerie’s deal is. 

FACECLAIM: EMILIA CLARKE (NEGOTIABLE)

[thegaleryoc]

'Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream . . . #suitup #classy #gatsby #nightout #smile #mirrorselfie #wedding #dressup #gdl #gay #couture #couturefashion #dress #instaselfie #menoutfit #dresscode (at Guadalajara, Jalisco) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7m2X4chNqi/?igshid=1kd3ld1pvm80s

[fclicitty]

*.:｡. ✰ — tags

felicity song | the girl from venus

[niiqhtmare]

i. overview

Species: Light Blooded Wytch

Full Name: First Name ( UTP ) du Plessis.

Birthday & Age:  June 2nd, 1997 / 22

Skill: Telekinesis & Twin Telepathy

Level: Favoured Soul

Occupation: Socialite / Fashion Influencer / Exchange Student at Astoria University.

Neighborhood: UTP or Belmonte Estate, # bed(s) # bath(s) - lives with UTP.

Hometown: South Dakota, United States

Residency Status: Newcomer, UTP weeks

Sexual Orientation: UTP

ii. personality

+ poised, labyrinthine, charming, & trait.

- vainglorious, ruthless, reticent, & poisonous.

iii.  about the species

wytches are humans with the power to affect natural or unnatural change by magical means. they connect themselves with divine forces in order to practice magic. with regular practice they can become highly skillful, dangerous if endeavors lead to malecium. there is a general curse to their existence; they tend to become addicted to supernatural forces and due to their constant use of magic, to misuse they will surely go down a path of becoming increasingly amoral towards human life as a result. the concept of wytches has existed across various cultures both primitive and advanced, throughout recorded history. their general misconception of their kind is primarily rooted in the mass carnage of the middle ages, against people, particularly women, who practiced any form of belief or healing that could be deemed anti-christian.

iv.  the past

Pearls around her neck and her hand around yours, stroking or choking, Ariadne du Plessis was capable of much more than what she let on. She consisted of wild eyes, soft lips, and a look that dared you to get closer.  It was the look of a siren; enchanting and distracting, ready to lure in the victim and into a deep grave when reality hit them a second too late. Ariadne was pink, but she had the potential to be TERRIFYING if she worked up enough effort to unearth her lethality. It slept beneath bright smiles and the highest of heels standing upon its grave. In truth, her untapped potential laid dormant in the cage beneath her chest and Ariadne fully intended to keep it that way. It bubbled up occasionally, peeking through the most in her fencing, and only mentioned if the current (often darker) company required it in rarer scenarios.

                                ‹ rose garden;                                           full of thorns.

Ariadne was beautiful. She knew it, and her parents had made a correct conjecture before she even graced the earth with her birth. It proved true, and she was given a lofty name to match. Philyra - a beautiful nymph chased after by a God. The blonde enjoyed being chased, but she wanted to be her own legend. Ariadne. It was bright, beautiful, and bubbled in the throat. Ariadne Atherton would write her own destiny along the way. As the product of a foreign affair, she was bred for them. Well-traveled, well connected, and eager to please – both herself and any potential lovers. She had plenty, but they had what she wanted - information. She liked to worm her way in and gather it piece by piece, in the heat of the moment, and then store it away. Ariadne was playing a dangerous game, sinking her teeth into both sides to stockpile secrets like weapons. A deeply shallow, vapid facade carefully hid it all away beneath a shell of pink glitter.

                                ‹ a nightmare ;                                           dressed like a daydream.

Happy is a complicated word for Ariadne, and the one that slips most easily in its spot is fun. Ariadne is fun; a bright hurricane of a girl. She is bright smiles and the exciting pop! of champagne corks. She is a bruise left on a long neck by soft lips, demurely hidden by scarves in winter. She’s a taunting pink lipstick print and daring, mischievous eyes. Ariadne is a glittering facade of many things, but true happiness is not one of them. She is happy enough, but she excels at being fun.

Anyone that signed their name as P. Graves was bound to leave an impact, but the usual choice was not a sparkling, midnight ink. The Graves are touted as a powerful family in both connections and skills, and Ariadne is no different. Her exceptional dueling prowess was encouraged from a young age. It flourished into a love of fencing, in which Ariadne is internationally ranked. She may or may not be known to enchant a suit of armor to spar with her when intoxicated.

                              ‹ it’ll leave you breathless ;                                          or with a nasty scar.

She had a creepy situation with a teacher/authority figure depending on verse when she was underage and it has left her scarred and a little guarded, and it’s a large reason why she has a glittery facade. Later stabbed him with a letter opener when she tried to extricate herself.

Here’s a small blurb about the teacher, but underage + age gap tw,

it wasn’t common knowledge how cupid’s arrow stabbed and splintered as it broke the skin and broke her heart. it wasn’t common knowledge how she clutched it to her chest while he clutched her to his. they didn’t know how much it bled when she plucked the arrow from her body, and how much it took to snap it over her knee. they didn’t know that deep splinters were still working their way to the surface, and how long she picked herself apart to find them and to find answers. she didn’t know that it was more than stolen glances in a room full of people and the thrill of first love. she hadn’t known it would lead to crying on the bathroom floor, feeling worthless as she applied another coat of lipstick for him to smear. feeling violated and alone, and how it hurt so goddamn much when he ripped her heart out when it all turned out to be a lie.

v.  the current

a few months back she was giving the finishing touches to her makeup and turned to her mother with a smile plastered on her face. her mother was shining with pride for being invited to host the charity ball of the year. couture dress, designer jewellers. groomed to be the image of perfection. obviously, she needed to ruin her happiness and share the news. she was moving to south dakota. “absurd. your place is here in france, not among them.” calliope du plessis takes a deep breath before continuing, now the mask was slipping. “I knew that boy was a bad influence, he is just like his father. should have never allowed him to...” her sentence is interrupted when the mirror breaks and various glass shreds levitate in the air. like daggers hovering next to her. silence while her daughter places red lipstick. “do never speak of my brother like that.” hell could freeze over with her detached tone. “now smile, we have a role to play. don’t want to cause a scandal would we?” she adds closing her black louis vuitton clutch. the glass shreds explode into tiny pieces, returning to sand. as she was turning around to leave, a hand moves towards her forehead. “your son says hello, dearest mother.” while she might be a light blooded wytch, she is by no means good. that´s a burden she never had to carry.

vi. connections

✗ CHURCH OF EDEN - deeply ingrained in the history of france and the church of eden, her maternal grandfather was the former high priest. the young woman was expected to follow the path that was laid before her.  many others of the family did, but she refused to be their perfect porcelain doll.a rebel at heart, she will do whatever she sees fit and may the heavens forbid who dares to stop her. never one to commit foolish acts, she will keep all the fame and fortune that the du plessis name allows. perhaps even start using the belmonte name as well when she arrives in america. in both sides of the ocean she is royalty and it´s time everyone becomes aware of that.

✗ LUCIUS BELMONTE -  her mind is a temple of depravity and insatiability shared with her twin brother. half of a soul in each one. it’s as if the universe had to split such perversity in two or affect the balance. they have no secrets, it’s practically impossible given their twin telepathy. and experience shows that when their psychic connection is severed both suffer from it.while they feed their inside demons, they also serve as an anchor to each others sanity.their insanity would be an even bigger punishment for the world. lucius is actually the voice of reason, both amoral creatures she is more impetuous.there is a secret that they keep about their skills or rather what happens when they bound them together. but that is a story for a posterior date…

[i-like-sex-with-clothes-on]

Being someones Bitch!  [15]

Now were was I hmmmm?? Oh yes I'm at the mirror heh :)

Ever just stared at your boobies in the mirror? me does OFTEN!!! hehe that's cause I'm always amazed I actually have them - and I thank medical science every night while good Catholics prey to Jesus - I prey to medical science gods :) giggles x0x0x See it does indeed take lots of work just to get were I am - I cant do what I wish now - off course it would look perfect! - but to be truly blunt it wouldn't bed in as much as if id done it in my TEENS!

Still mustn't grumble this girl has a bum and hips that turns heads hehe [at least when on show] and boobies that are just for me and my sexual partners *blushing* I'ma 34A and I ADORE them!! they're everything I've always dreamed off and wanted - and I adore buying things for them weekly :D

So here I am at the mirror - and I am listing all the yummy things that my new [hopefully] MISTRESS - wants me to do and turn up at her house as!!!

I am to wear a figure hugging SKIRT with top not a dress - I am too make myself as I seem fit regarding makeup! - and my BIGGEST TEST - the one were if I don't do it - and tell MISTRESS I did - I will know im useless myself - I have to wear 4" to 6" heels all the way there - that's my punishment test - the bigger the heals the better she will love me!!

None of the list bothers me if I’m honest - I go out often as the real me - Its who I am :) - and I pull it off flawlessly always -- the only thing that isn't real about who I present myself to the world at such times - is the fact I'm not a "complete woman". That will I guess always be my personal burden to carry - just as the fact that I wasn't born a woman is what drives my nightmares. Its a fact - I wasn't born a woman - I am a woman inside - and 90%  bodily too - and I thank providence daily that I am soo androgynous as to be able to pull off both sexes too some degree - though the more hormones I take the greater the one sex STICKS OUT :)

So Ima gunna rock this party - and Ima guna meet my new MISTRESS. Body and Hair get washed - hair gets special loving attention - I take my time over my hair - its what I curl in my fingers when I'm daydreaming! Hair gets clipped back - facial wipes get used to take off that city grime and smoke! Foundation goes on :)  -  a slight pastel coloured pallet comes out and I begin to blush my cheeks!! I will save my lips till last!! My eyes - ohh how I adore putting eye makeup on - it transforms a soul hehe - soo many ways to dictate your look from your eyes!! I'm going dark this time -- big dark heavy shades on my eyelids - layered down to the liner... Under my eyes I take an hour getting it right - laying a light coat first and building slowly - all the while making my eyes look bigger and more expressive!! My eye shadow colour pallet is matte - but its lush and there are four colours in total I use!! I use GIVENCHY NOIR COUTURE 4 IN 1 MASCARA for my eyelashes Finally eyeliner - its perfect and its expensive - CHANEL STYLO YEUX WATERPROOF Long-Lasting Eyeliner 0.3g 924 Fervent Blue!

I blink :) I look down then lookup with my eyes --- I sigh!!!! I'm in love with my own eyes already!! hehe - dang I love this -  I am soo a girl!! Finally my lips.... My lips I take time over - first I take out a simple dental brush - and I start rubbing my top lip - till I feel its pouty enough without having to suffer soreness in the morning. Then I ohh soo carefully but with joy in my heart - apply my CHRISTIAN LOUBOUTIN Velvet Matte Lip Colour - colour = Survivita :) Finally I have a light gloss which I will be applying throughout the time I spend with MISTRESS - whenever I get the chance!

At the very end - while blowing kisses to myself religiously and too many times I swear im crazy!!!! I put in my finishing touches. I places a white gold ring on my bottom lip - and a tungsten stud in my tongue - AND 1 eye stud with a diamond hanging off it... Then its earring time - and I go for 3 staggered diamond studs in my right and 2 in my left...

Finally I take out my clips and let my hair fall!!!!!!!!

Sighing right now!!!!!!!!!!! I look like me at last - there is nothing left of what entered the hotel - what's leaving the hotel this evening is a woman on heat!!!! and Ima make sure every person that sees me for more than a second gets my FULL STAIR AND SMILE!!!

I might even flirt with the receptionist before I go - male or female whoever is working it - if I like - I might tease and make myself feel yummy!!

:) Im meeee - ahhhhhhh noo way it feeeelt soo damn good I was squirming and screaming!!!!!!

I just wana sing "happy birthday mr president" I feel soo good hehe giggles!!!!