#FAKE: Fake Money

[k-star-holic]

Brain-fficial' yeong-suk, 'Confucian boy' Upper Iron to the back of the head? 'Choices time' yeong-suk passing Upper Iron

[bixels]

Just gonna have to wait and see, right? Just wait and see! Just gotta wait and see! Who knows, we'll just have to wait and see! It's anybody's guess, we'll just have to wait and see! The future is exciting, we just gotta wait and see!

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alley Boyfriends Part 3

Tim has to say that the interior designers had outdone themselves. He knew he was paying good money for them, but he made it a bit difficult by only giving them three days to create a concept to decorate his new penthouse.

While the cleaning and moving crew was hard at work getting everything settled at their old apartments, Danny and Tim looked over designs for their penthouse.

Tim had never really paid much attention to his living space theme or style, having always lived by a minimalist mindset that his parents preferred. But Danny had been insistent that his home had to have life, and minimalistic spaces made him feel like he was staying in a hotel, no matter how fancy.

He vetoed everything that had "simple," "neutral," or "modern" in the description offers. The agent, the interior designer team, had sent to represent them had also brought three tablets filled with examples of their offered packages. They were to pick which one they wanted, and the team would create a concept so no two places were alike for their customers.

The team would do the colors, furniture, and textures, but they had a right to write in demands, such as Danny's not wanting anything painted white or Tim's desire for a soft carpet in all rooms but the bathrooms and kitchen.

Tim was given his tablet- Each one was synced to the agent's primary tablet, which would have the answers to the surveys or personal notes that the boys made- to click through the same list as Danny, but he didn't bother with his own. The themes all looked the same to him unless it was ridiculous- Harry Potter, Wonderland, and Atlantis, to name a few.

It is nothing he hasn't seen before.

On the other hand, Danny had never had someone decorate for him; as someone who grew up in the mid to low-level middle class, his household had always been mismatched furniture that balanced well together.

He looked like an excited puppy, eyes wide as he clicked through photo after photo, asking Tim's opinion every so often. The agent, Tyrone, was happy to answer any question he may have, seemingly pleased that someone appreciated his work as much as Danny did.

Tim had watched him struggle between Hollywood Glam and Regency, so he recommended Hollywood Regency Interior Design, knowing one of Wayne Enterprises Board members had mentioned it beforehand.

It wasn't so garish that Tim hated it, but it had just the right amount of elegancy and "someone lives here" vibe that Danny was searching for.

He watched in real-time as Danny's eyes lit up in joy as he showed him the image on the tablet.

Tim had never cared for how his living space was decorated. Still, after seeing his friend grow excited to flip through example photos and chatting with Tyrone over color palettes and furniture, he realized that Hollywood Regency was likely his new favorite style.

"The main color has to be green," Danny chirped, tapping his finger against different shades of the mentioned color.

"A dark emerald green would be perfect," Tyrone responded, switching his tablet to a series of dark-looking designs, but Danny shook his head without looking at them.

"No, something lighter and brighter."

"Why?" Tim asked, thinking the emerald green gave it a more elegant air. Absentmindedly, he sips the coffee Danny brought from his work. It settles in his gut with a warm, comforting feeling, happy that he was the first to try the new seasonal offerings.

Danny gave him an exclusive one week before they hit the menu, and Tim can die happy. This season, they are a Young Justice theme.

Impulse Lavender Expersso was heavenly. He can't wait to see Bart's reaction when they get announced.

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy. "Green is your favorite color. Of course, we need to have that for the wall painting."

Tim blinks, stunned by the response. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. How had Danny known green was his favorite color? He can only take a longer sip, and he feels even warmer. Tyrone coughs, trying very hard to hide a smile as he flips his tablet around. "How about this one, Mr. Fenton?"

"That's the one! fern green, it looks cool, right Tim?"

Tim considered the images. "It does, but it's a bit too plain."

"We can add golden trimming on the walls," Tyrone immediately suggested, showing them some images that Danny oohed and ahhed to. I know you said you didn't want white, Mr. Fenton, so golden would be the next best option."

"Hmm." Danny considered it before nodding, "Yeah, it looks lovely. Will the furniture also be golden?"

"A few pieces, yes, but to really balance the feeling of the room, I was thinking more of white like this."

Tim zoned out as Danny and Tyrone chatted, picking up the SuperBoy Crusher Coffee.

Eventually, Danny told Tyrone to make the final decision as long as it had some shades of green and was in that style. They handed over the address, gave Tyrone access to the apartment, and continued their lives.

Tim and Danny had not seen the penthouse pass some images on the for sale posting. Now standing in their new home, Tim found himself utterly impressed.

Tyrone was going to get a lot more business from him, that was for sure. He couldn't wait for Danny to see it.

Now that I think about it, where is Danny? Tim wondered, walking over to the large window overlooking the city. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he miss his train?

He reaches for his phone, wondering if the new route needs to be clarified for his friend. But before he can click on the call button, it starts to ring. Danny's grinning face flashes across his screen, and his very special ringtone blares from the speakers.

Danny programmed it to Poltergiest after hearing the song while making some Halloween-themed coffees to submit to the Heart Attack employee contest. If he won, he would get a big bonus, and his drink would be added to the October promotion.

Tim had been his happy test subject.

Tim answers the phone in a flash. "Danny? Where are you?"

There is a huff of irritation on the other line. The blaring of speeding cars and wind tells Tim his fake boyfriend is likely outside somewhere. " Tim! You won't believe this! The doorman of our new building won't let me in! He thinks I'm lying about living here. Apparently, I'm not dressed fancy enough. Can you believe it?!"

The CEO thinks about Danny's entire closet, which is made entirely of worn-down T-shirts and faded jeans. It's nothing too bad, but he can see why the doorman would think Danny wasn't among the rich highbrows of the people living in this building.

Knowing Danny's shockingly quick temper, the man probably fought with the doorman, too.

He sighs, heading toward the door and picking up his keys and wallet. "I'll be right down. Hold tight"

Neither bothers hanging up, primarily out of habit, whenever Tim is brave enough to call Danny for some secret coffee fix. He would go quiet if his siblings happened to wander close. Danny just liked having someone exist with him, so silence on the phone call was no issue to him.

Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, he can hear Danny walking back to the entrance, smug in every playable as he taunts, "Just wait until Tim gets here. His coffee is getting cold, and he will definitely blame you."

He walks a little faster, pressing hard on the elevator button, and taps his foot a bit as he zooms down. The doors barely slide open when Tim jogs out of them, rushing to the entrance, where he can see Danny and the doorman, Josh, having a standoff.

Faintly, Tim can pick up the sound of a deep, annoyed grunt. "You again? I told you to get out of here before I called the police-"

If Danny gets arrested, I've never heard Bruce's end of it. Tim panics, turning his jog into a sprint and bursting through the front door to shout, "Danny is my roommate!"

'Josh's jaw drops as Danny cackles, "See! I do, too, live here!"

It doesn't seem to compute in the employee's mind, eyes ranking up and down Danny's coffee-stain outfit. He looks even plainer than normal, which doesn't help his claims one bit. "You live here...with Mr. Drake...dressed like that?"

A frown forms on Danny's face, his eyes flashing with anger, but Tim is quick to step in. He pushes his roommate back while taking the travel mug with the Heart Attack logo out of his hand. It wouldn't be due if Danny flung it into Josh's face.

This was all Tim's fault. He should have realized that Danny would need to learn how things were done in these settings. "He does! I'm sorry about this, Danny. I'll make sure it never happens again."

Josh's face turned pasty white as more smugness dropped over Danny's expression. He leans sideways so he can look into the brown eyes of the doorman without Tim blocking him. "You hear that? Tim is going to talk to your boss-"

Tim tugs Danny's arm, glancing down at his wristwatch. "If we run, we can get to the stores before they close."

Josh and Danny froze, whipping their heads in Tim's direction with confusion. "What?"

Not knowing why they were reacting like that, Tim could only blink in bewilderment. Isn't it obvious? "I'm going to buy you an entire new wardrobe."

If anything, that only seemed to daze Danny as he slowly turned towards Tim with even wider eyes. "What?"

Why was he acting like this? A new wardrobe would make him look the part, and Danny would be able to get into their house without issue. Slowly, Tim explains, "If Josh here thought you weren't dressed the part, I can fix that. My favorite suit place closes in two hours, but we need to have your measurements done, so we may have thirty minutes if we want to come home with a suit today. We have to go!"

He finished his explanation while dragging Danny to the garage parking lot where his car was parked.

Danny stumbles after him, still in a rather large daze, yelps, "Wait, isn't this a bit much?"

Tim rolls his eyes, chugging the coffee with his other hand. He never lets go of Danny's wrist. "You give me the one thing keeping me going in these dark times. Nothing is too much for you."

Danny makes a strange noise in the back of his throat but eventually stops resisting, following Tim with a light chuckle. "It's not that big of a deal, Tim."

"It is."

( Neither is close enough to hear Josh muttering to himself as the terror of losing his well-paying job flashes before his eyes. "That was Mr.Drak's sugar baby. I better tell the rest of the staff before someone gets fired for insulting him." )

Various people document their shopping trips, and by the time they stumble home, Tim's phone is blowing up with messages from his family.

If anything, this does wonders for their fake dating plan.

Tim glances up from his screen, smiling at his friend's expression of wonder as he turns in slow circles.

He typed a quick response, only letting them know not to worry before throwing his phone over his shoulder, knowing it would land on the couch cushions. "How about a tour? I'll let you pick your favorite room."

Danny's eyes snap towards him, and the brightest, warmest smile Tim has ever seen grows across his face. For a moment, the vigilante is stunned by its glory. His heart races, and for a second, he wonders if maybe he had been drinking a little too much caffeine.

He shakes his head. There is no such thing as too much caffeine.

Tim updated their journals later that night after bidding Danny goodnight. He added "Unexpected beauty" to Danny's physical journal right under "A smile that makes the stars pale."

Feeling embarrassed, he drinks his Coco Crush—Danny made it for him at the coffee island that Tyrone had installed in the kitchen—and turns over in his bed to sleep.

He dreams of stardust, laughter and Danny's blue eyes.

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

OK but I really love how unhinged Neil comes off in other people's POV cause looking back at the first three novels he was so damn weird

Take what happened in Colombia

Imagine what Andrew was thinking

Holy crap this binder WTF?!?! OK he's sus as hell I've gotta test him, I'm gonna mess with the tags when I refold his clothes but like...I doubt even he's THAT crazy

*Neil barges in and starts shouting in FRENCH*

OK so he IS that crazy (and French?!)

OK I'm gonna spike his drink and get some answers in a minute just gonna leave him with Aaron and Nicky for a sec while I satisfy my Gay panic this runaway has inspired in me with Roland and then I'll just...WTF DID HE JUST PAY A GUY TO KNOCK HIM OUT?!

OK I'm gonna pick up some breakfast and when I get back to the house I can interrogate the....OK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THIS DUBIOUS TWINK CRAWLED OUT OF THE BATHROOM WINDOW?!

OK so he's not around let's get back to Palmetto he probably got a ride from one of the upperclassmen

OK he didn't...did he run away? I guess that makes some sens... OK wait he HITCHHIKED?! THE FUCK?!

OK THIS ASSHOLE SPEAKS GERMAN TOO?!

OK he's on the run from the mob...there are a lot of holes in this story but at this point I'm gonna take his word for it that he's isn't a danger to my people cause I don't have the energy to continue to pursue this anymore. This fucking guy is more unhinged than what I was prepared to deal with this weekend.

[izzystizzys]

Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.

Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.

And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.

He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.

Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.

“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”

Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”

Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.

Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.

For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.

…not like that.

“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”

“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”

Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.

Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?

“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”

“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.

“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.

“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.

“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.

“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.

[shirecorn]

Tumblr keeps popping up to sell me ad free dashboard. But what it doesn't understand is that me and the ads have a sort of symbiosis at this point.

The guys from the fake gameplay trailers for a predatory mobile app are my blorbos

[fisheito]

(3) remaining

[k-star-holic]

'I am solo' 16th, hot hot ... Upper Iron's final she is yeong-suk? Delia Ketchum?

[nataliedecorsair]

My Pticenoga is finally in the Borderlands series now! ...I wish lol. It’s a screenshot edit + draw-in I made for fun, presenting how Hedwig would look like in the game, both human and harpy/siren versions. Maybe I’ll actually learn Blender and make her model in the future, we’ll see. At least Vaughn can enjoy some double trouble here xD (his model was made by mcemily + I applied some edits in photoshop) An old fake screenshot can be found here UPD: I made an “in-game” scene, just because I can

UPD2: added come cursed thing I made a couple of months ago but forgot about it lol

[just-a-living-meat-thing]

Someone should make a fanfic au where L actually does win and sends Light to prison but keeps secretly breaking him out again to play cat and mouse w him over and over. Bonus points if Light knows exactly what’s going on and goes Freak Mode™️ by laying (fatal) silly puzzles and traps for his favorite detective to fall into as they each try to psychologically torture each other as a form of long distance flirting

(Alternatively there should be a oneshot fanfic about lawlight inspired by that one scorpion and frog crossing the stream post that I can’t find (it’s very long and made me cry if anyone has seen it or needs a better description pls send it/ask me and I’ll try to describe it better) where it takes all the aus we’ve made of them and turns it into a never ending time loop fanfic where they both die at the end, where L wins, where Light wins, where they both loose, where they live a life far away from Kira and Great Detectives, where they kill each other, where they save each other, where one is always the scorpion and one is always the frog and they’re both doomed to each other forever, both doomed to their own self destructive tendencies, doomed to drown without each other and because of each other. Idk I didn’t explain that well but you picking up what I’m puttin down?)

[elftwink]

to preface this post i am anti-advertising i think we should explode the entire industry but it's sooo funny when you people make posts like "and they don't even work!!" like. sorry to be the bearer of bad news but yes they do. that's why we have to put up with so many despite everyone hating them and thinking its annoying. because they actually work really well and make a shit load of money

[padawansuggest]

Mace: Why did the guards keep you two overnight in the cells?

Obi-Wan: Well, we were hanging out in an alleyway, like we always do on weekends, and Quinlan said he found a dead body. So I ran over cause I took that healing course that one time but obviously it wasn’t strong enough, because, the body was missing a head.

Quinlan: Yup yup, so I tried a necromancer’s enchantment on it because Ventress said it was a faster way to find out who killed them than touching the body, but the enchantment dust she gave me turned out to just be glitter, and we contaminated the crime scene.

Padawan Ventress: In my defense, I didn’t think he was that stupid.

Quinlan: That’s your own fault, don’t lay that one on me!

Obi-Wan: And that’s when the guard came and I started crying because they said they’ll call our parents but we don’t have parents so I started crying instead and they took pity on us and gave us somewhere to sleep off the alcohol.

Mace: …*rubbing his temples from the headache* Kenobi, grow a beard already, I’m tired of people confusing you for a teenager. Knight Vos, remove me from your emergency contacts list. Ventress, /always/ assume they’re that stupid. *leaves them with a temple guard to escort them to their quarters as house arrest guards*

[aardvaark]

im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.

[webdiggerxxx]

꧁★꧂

[omppupiiras]

sex = money 🔥💸 blurry pics from yours truly