#SO CUTE N PRETTY

[sallysspacesworld]

Let’s see how viral this can go….Let’s go guys! 😊❤️

[adabird]

Jealous Katsuki is the best Katsuki.. He wraps his hands around your waist, kissing at your ear, before pushing you deeper into his chest.. He moves his hands up the side of your body, keeping you in place before his whisky breath started to fan across your cheek.. “You wanna tell me why that man had his hand on your arm earlier?”.. “I hated the way you giggled.. I thought that giggle was reserved for me”. He said, before his bottom lip jutted out, giving you a cute pout. You rolled your eyes before saying “Kats, that was my cousin”. He paused, watching the image from the corner of your eye as he stared at you bewildered, pout still prominent on his face before replying. “You still love me right?”

[doodoodinklefart]

pov fallin in love w ur homie cuz he's so pretty all of a sudden?!?!

[grogumaximus]

2025 Canadian Grand Prix during the press conference after the race – Photo by Jennifer Gauthier

[madootles]

tma tma tma

[softroundbunny]

people who love chubby girls … like this and reblog i’m trying to see something… ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

[gummyisland39]

any ver. of miku > shadow MID cookie

if someone makes a oneshot of my girl WxS Miku protecting Y/N I will send you good vibes!!!!!

cuz she solos everyone!

slowly becoming a Sm cookie hater...🤨🤨

Anyone who disagrees are just sm cookies alt acc🤨��

[rocketqueen1989x]

THE LITTLE SCRUNCH EXPRESSION 🥲🥲

[moonsglare]

hiii i have a request 🥹🥹 if possible, could you write a comfort fic with himeko or kafka and reader? reader who has trouble sleeping or has been exhausted from missions, going straight to himeko's room after returning to the astral express and just melting into her arms. or, reader who hasn't seen kafka in a while and just really misses her, needs her to put her mind at ease, so kafka drops by the express unexpectedly and spends the night taking care of reader. can be either sfw or nsfw, I dont mind either 🥹

omg this is so cute! i’ll do both ;)

SLEEPLESS NIGHTS || hsr x reader

cw. nudity

notes. dunno why i felt the need to mention this but this fic operates on established relationship between reader/character, just fyi :)

HIMEKO

Trailblazing was never going to be easy. You knew this, and you accepted it. To walk the path of Akivili was to lend a helping hand to whosoever needed it. And you do enjoy it—the feeling of making a change in the vast universe, shoulder to shoulder with companions that you would give your life for, and who would do the same for you. You wouldn’t give up your spot on the Astral Express for the world.

But you are only human, at the end of the day.

You’ve been taking back-to-back missions recently, and it’s slowly taking its toll on you. As a more experienced Nameless with many years under your belt, your assistance is slightly more prized over the younger crew—not to say they were incapable. Dan Heng and March alone made a terrifying duo, which was only exacerbated when Stelle joined the mix. But at the end of the day, they’re still a little green and wet behind the ears, so any of the harder jobs tend to fall to you or Welt. And with Welt supervising them on the Luofu, that just left you.

Your footsteps are heavy as you drag yourself back onto the Express. There’s a rip in your jacket from where a Mara-struck soldier tried to slash at you, and several small cuts all over your fingers from the cutting wind of the Disciples. The Luofu had commissioned your blade to quell the number of Mara-struck still roaming around, but for every six you strike down, another dozen seem to take their place.

You sigh as you flop onto one of the many couches on the Express, letting your weapon clatter onto the ground. You’re sore, tired, and aching—all you want to do now is sink into your pillows and sleep, but you have to clean up first. You shut your eyes with another weary noise, deciding to rest up a little before heading to your cabin. Or, shared cabin, rather.

A gentle tap on your shoulder stirs you from your brief rest. You crack your eyes open, and are met with a gentle, golden gaze—it’s Himeko. She’s foregone her usual attire, instead dressed in simple nightwear now, a blanket around her shoulders.

“Hey,” you rasp out. “Were you about to go to bed?”

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “No, I was waiting for you.”

“Ah. Sorry, I must’ve kept you up for a while then.”

“It’s alright,” Himeko says, picking up your weapon off the ground, and placing it inside one of the secure compartments beneath the seats. “I was working on some designs, anyway.”

Then she rises back up, and reaches out to cup your face. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the touch. Then she pulls away, and you nearly whine in protest, before she extends the same hand to you. “Come. Let me care of you tonight.”

You take her hand without hesitation, your fingers slotting perfectly in between hers. You let her lead you to your shared cabin, near the back of the train cart. The door slides open with a small hiss, and the scent of warm, freshly brewed coffee fills your lungs. It’s a comforting, distinctly Himeko scent that you feel some of the tension in your shoulders bleed out.

Her fingers work deftly as they undo the buttons of your clothes, and she frowns when she notices the rip in your jacket.

“I got a little sloppy,” you explain weakly, with a tired grin. Himeko rolls her eyes, but folds it neatly and sets it on the edge of the bed, no doubt to be repaired by the next day.

“As long as you’re unharmed,” she murmurs, working on your shirt now. Your hands rest on her hips as she divests you of the rest of your clothes, until you’re in nothing but your underwear. “The bath is ready. I’ll be there soon.”

You nod, and drag your exhausted limbs to the bath. You strip fully, and then sink into the warm, bubbly water, audibly groaning as the heat from the bath seeps into your aching muscles. The small cuts along your hands sting a little, but you know Himeko must’ve mixed in some antiseptic to ensure no infections take root.

Himeko walks in a little later, and takes a seat on the edge of the tub, smiling as she takes in your relaxed appearance. She brushes some hair out of your eyes, then reaches over for the shampoo and conditioner, tucked away in another small, secure compartment. The Express is littered with them, so things can be stored safely and not make a mess of the train during jumps.

You feel like dissolving when Himeko starts to wash your hair, expert fingers massaging your scalp wonderfully. Her hands--hands that fix, hands that mend--travel from the base of your neck up to the back of your skull, then along your temples, before repeating over again. It's incredible, the way she can put you back together so easily. She chuckles when she notes your reaction.

“Enjoying yourself, my dear?”

You can only manage a wordless grunt in response, feeling like you’re in an entirely different plane of existence right now. Time blurs as Himeko washes out the shampoo and works in the conditioner, before washing that out too and leaving your hair thoroughly clean and smelling like fresh roses—the same scent as hers.

You almost don’t want to leave the warmth of the tub, but Himeko coaxes you out anyway. She offers you a towel and a bathrobe, and leaves you to dry yourself off for a while. You wring out your hair, then dress yourself in a comfy pair of silk nightclothes. When you step out of the washroom, Himeko is waiting for you on the bed, her legs already tucked beneath the covers. On her lap is her laptop as she types away, no doubt finishing up on her many engineering designs.

You practically dive into bed, snuggling under the sheets and pressing close to your lover. She’s warm as always, thanks to her Pathstrider ability being of the Fire type. Himeko hums to herself, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as you bury yourself in her side, uncaring for the dampness of your hair. She reaches over to the bedside table, and with a click, switches of the main room lights, leaving only the soft glow of the lamp next to the bed.

You chance a glance up at her, even as drowsiness nips at your heels. The gentle golden glow of the lamp makes her look divine, enhanced by the fiery red of her hair. There is an affection in her eyes you know is reserved only for you as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest, now,” she says, her words a caress against your skin. “You deserve it, my love.”

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes slipping shut as sleep finally claims you. It’s easy to oblige the request, safe and sound in her arms like this. These moments make you wish that dawn—or the Express’s approximation of a circadian rhythm—would never come, and you could linger in the embrace of your beloved for eternity. The last thing you hear before you drift off is Himeko’s soothing voice, almost lullaby-like, and you can hear her smile.

“I love you too, dearest one.”

KAFKA

For the nth time that night, you wake up to the sight of your bedroom ceiling.

You sigh and twist in your bed, turning to check the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s 1am in the morning, and you still can’t sleep.

You don’t really know the root of your recent bouts of insomnia. Maybe it was the workload? But Himeko has given you several days off already. Maybe it was the stress of having to manage the younger Astral Express members, but Welt shoulders that burden most of the time. Could it be Pom Pom then? You shake your head at that—the conductor was usually the one stressing, not being the cause of stress.

Then maybe… maybe it’s because you miss her.

Kafka, your secret lover.

You miss the presence of her next to you in your bed, and the steady, powerful beat of her heart under your ear as you rest your head on her chest. Miss the elegant cadence of her breathing and the feel of her hand in yours.

You sigh again. You know she’d laugh if she ever knew about your silly longing. I mean, you volunteered for this infiltration mission; you knew what you were signing up for. But still, it’s funny—you miss that about her too. Her laugh.

You reach for your phone, resting on the bed. During your last… rendezvous with Kafka she had the foresight—or maybe Elio did, who knows—to give you an encrypted number to contact her with.

Only in case of emergencies, doll, she had crooned, as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Use it wisely.

Your finger hovers over the number. Does this even qualify as an emergency? It’s just a few sleepless nights. Kafka probably has more important things to do, executing Elio’s endless number of scripts and whatnot. In the end, you shut off your phone and throw your head back on the pillows, ready to resign yourself to another long night—

—when your phone suddenly buzzes with urgency.

You jerk in surprise, brows furrowing as you pick it back up. Who could be calling at this hour? You squint in the darkness as you read the caller ID, and your heart leaps into your throat.

It’s the emergency number.

You fumble to answer, quickly sitting up and pressing the phone to your ear, making sure to cover your mouth and the reciever. The rest of the Express definitely wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you always feel some sort of lingering paranoia, sneaking around like this with Kafka.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll,” a familiar, smooth voice says, and your heart flutters. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Kafka,” you breathe out, not bothering to hide the relief in your tone. Kafka chuckles on the other end.

“That’s me,” she hums. “You answered pretty quickly. Were you not sleeping?”

You hesitate for a moment, but decide to come clean. “No. I… haven’t been sleeping well, recently.”

Kafka is silent for a few seconds. “I see,” she says, and something in her voice shifts, imperceptible to the average person. But you aren’t an average person, not to Kafka. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Just a little insomnia. Nothing to worry about." The other end goes quiet, so you decide to change the topic. "Why'd you call? Isn't this for emergencies only? Are you in trouble?"

"You worried?" she chuckles, and you can see her smirk in your mind's eye. "I'm alright, doll. And as for emergencies... well, I missed you. Isn't that an emergency?"

It's such a Kafka-esque answer, but it pulls a breathless little laugh from you all the same. "Ugh, you..."

"Me," she affirms on the other end with a snicker. There is small, comfortable silence between you, before she speaks again. "Listen, doll, I've gotta go. But don't worry your pretty little head--you'll sleep perfectly well tonight. I'll make sure of it."

You blink, confused at her words. But before you can question it, Kafka hangs up the call, leaving you both confused and a little disappointed. Usually she'd say goodbye and throw in those three special words, though not this time, apparently. You wonder what she means as you shut your phone off again, and lie back onto your pillows. You close your eyes, and try to do as she says.

You're not sure how much time passes, but it doesn't work, predictably. You groan in frustration, just about ready to get up when a lithe hand slips over your mouth.

You jerk in surprise, one hand flying reflexively to the knife you keep beneath your pillow, the other gripping your assailant's wrist. You swing the knife in an arc, only for it to be caught and restrained by thin, pink, familiar ropes. They glow ever so slightly, illuminating a familiar face, that has your mouth falling open under the hand.

"Good to see your reflexes haven't dulled," Kafka teases, nimbly prying the knife out of your hands and letting it clatter onto the floor. She then removes the hand over your mouth, and releases your wrist from the strings.

"Kafka," you whisper, your hand moving to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the ridges of her face, "are you real?"

She leans into your touch, that signature smirk tugging on her painted lips. She's really here, solid and tangible beneath your fingers. "You could consider me a dream, if you'd like."

"How did you even get in here?" you ask, not taking your eyes off her for a moment as she shrugs off her coat and begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. Kafka offers you a smug grin at that, pulling a little device from her pocket.

"Custom-made IPC teleportation beacon," she answers with a wink. "Jailbroken courtesy of Silver Wolf, of course."

You make a mental note to buy Silver Wolf the next battlepass in that game of hers. Kafka sets the device on the bedside table, now dressed in only her undergarments. You swallow as you take in the expanse of her milky skin, firm abdomen and muscled thighs, all while Kafka raids the clothing storage beneath your bed for something to sleep in like she's been on the Express this whole while. She eventually settles for one of your old t-shirts, which drapes over her frame in such a sinfully delectable way that you'd pounce on her if you weren't so damn tired.

"Move over," she orders, pulling her hair out of its usual ponytail, and letting it cascade down her shoulders and back. Kafka has always been beautiful--but like this... you would not have been able to distinguish her from Idrila the Beauty themself. You wonder if that makes you her knight. You shuffle to the side of the bed, and Kafka slips under the sheets next to you. Strong arms wrap around you and hold you close, close enough that you can rest your ear against her chest, and hear the soothing lullaby of her heartbeat. Immediately you start to feel drowsy, and Kafka chuckles.

"You really missed me, didn't you, doll?" she muses, carding her fingers through your hair gently. "I'm here now, my dear. Sleep, alright?"

Your eyes flutter shut almost instantly. It's funny, how she doesn't even have to use her Spirit Whisper on you to get you to obey. Maybe love itself is enough of a whisper to your soul, or maybe you've always been weak for her. But oddly enough, you don't find yourself minding all that much if that's the case. You don't mind much of anything when it comes to her. Though you don't ponder for very long as you snuggle closer against her warmth, your arms winding tight around her waist. She'll be gone by morning, you know that. She has to. But for now, this is enough, secure in this haven that is her embrace, and you let yourself drift off into slumber.

(The next morning, nothing remains of her--you may have truly considered her a dream, were it not for the imprint of her form on your bed, and a tiny note on your bedside table, undoubtedly written in her hand.

All it says is i love you.

And for the both of you, that's all it needs to say.)

[serafphim]

date night

[yeahimcal]

Bad News (Terry McGinnis)

“Terry McGinnis is bad news, you don’t want to mess with him.” was the first thing you heard about him.

“He’s a bad boyfriend. Skips dates, flakes on plans, always has weird bruises is and really tired. None of his partners have ever caught him cheating, but he definitely does.” Was the next several things, all said in a hushed whisper as you were ushered past the black-haired boy in question.

He certainly didn’t… look like bad news. You’d dated guys who were bad news before, and very few of them had looked like Terry. Acted like him, either.

He was nice. He had helped you with your homework when you cried at the study tables in the library, smoothing a soothing hand over your shoulder blades almost unconsciously as he walked you through your chemistry exam study guide. He’d given you some gum, a smile, and a pat on the back before he promptly fell asleep on the table in the back corner of the library, snoring softly.

You’d slid your number into his hand when you left, and that was it for a while. He didn’t text. You saw each other in passing, and he’d smiled and you’d smiled, but nothing more.

Until you’d gotten the call.

“Hey.” He breathed into the speaker, his voice sounding oddly pained. “I’m sorry to call at this hour, but, uh, this… this isn’t really something I can call my mom for.”

He’d given you the address of an abandoned warehouse, begged you not to be freaked out when you got there, and hung up.

You went.

You didn’t really know why you went, for all you knew it was a really elaborate booty call or kidnapping scheme, but ten minutes later you parked next to the warehouse and slipped inside.

There, leaned up against a wall, bleeding and bruised, was Terry.

“You’re- you’re studying to be an EMT, right?” He asked with a pained smile that was supposed to be charming, gesturing to his wounds. “I figured you’d appreciate some hands-on experience.”

“What the hell?” You’d breathed, giving him a shocked look as you rushed to examine his wounds. “Terry, why didn’t you call the police?”

“Not the sharpest, are you.” Terry grunted in what might have been amusement, hissing as you poked and prodded him to see what was hurting. “Can’t call the police, they’d arrest me.”

“Arrest you?” You’d echoed, and then you took in his outfit. All black, with a red bat on the front. A cowl was clutched in his hand, the ends sharpening into little points. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I’m Batman.” Terry chuckled, but it was more at the look of shock on your face. He moved to sit up and then groaned, cringing and covering his wound. “Can you patch me up before I die here, please? Kinda called you for your specific set of skills.”

“You are so stupid.” You chided, but reluctantly dug around in your bag for hydrogen peroxide and bandages.

“And you’re old school, doc.” He breathed, smiling up at you cheekily. “You don’t carry those fancy little kits that heal people up on the spot?”

“They don’t sell them to anyone other than certified medical personnel.” You said, giving him a pointed glare and dousing his wound in hydrogen peroxide. “And I’m not a doctor.”

“Ah-” Terry hissed, tipping his head back and gasping in a little breath. … he was pretty. He was really pretty, and it was a little distracting. The voices of your friends rang out in the back of you head, warning you that he was trouble, but you couldn’t find it in you to listen when he swallowed thickly and turned to look at you, a lopsided smile on his pale face. “Same difference.” He breathed, chuckling.

You looked back at his wound, face flushed and feeling dizzy from the laps your brain was having to do to see Terry- scrawny, ‘bad boy’, Terry- as Batman. It seemed ridiculous, but his muscles were right there underneath your hands, tensing as you bandaged him up. He looked bigger than he did when you saw him in passing, stronger- when you saw him, he was always wearing bigger clothes that nearly dwarfed him, making him look smaller than he was. His hair was damp with sweat that ran down his face and made him look a little bit red, his lips parted as he breathed in air. He was gorgeous.

Suddenly, it made a little more sense why his exes had kept on giving him chances.

You worked quietly and efficiently, only sparing a few looks at your accidental patient before you finished patching him up.

“You should get that checked out at an actual hospital.” You said, helping him to his feet. “And I still don’t understand why you called me. We aren’t… friends.”

Terry shrugged, cupping your face in his hand and grinning a toothy smile at you. “Yeah, well, we definitely are now, doc.” He teased, tapping your nose and pushing away from you to head towards the doors opposite of where you’d parked. “Text me sometime and we can go out and get some drinks. I feel like you’ll be better company when you’re not crying over your study guides.”

He slipped the cowl on over his head and you could very nearly feel his stupid smile, which you already knew was going to get you in more trouble than you had bargained for, as he slipped out the doors and into the Gotham night.

When you walked back out to your car, it had a flat tire, and the window was broken.

… okay, maybe Terry was bad news.

[write-nerdy-to-me]

tadius ~ "fuck this miserable life": a study, pt. 2 (pt. 1)

[kottkrig]

Xal'atath's design is rad as hell but every time I see her in game model I'm disappointed by how cutesy her face is

You know already how much I dislike fem belf/velf being forced to all have the same young soft pouty big eyed face regardless of their character, which would be fine if it wasn't the only option for basically everyone who isn't Sylvanas

And the cutesy youthful >:3c-energy face especially doesn't suit a character as ancient and unsettling as Xal'atath, with her mature sultry voice (which is amazing)

Just... some wrinkles... some baggy eyes... something uncanny and voidy somewhere... traces of her body being a void-corrupted corpse...

[mizzfizz]

ZAYNE: FATES ENTWINED [ VEILED MYSTERIES ]

AWAKENING

Sunlight intertwines with shadows falling above. Everything seems to sway between reality and oblivion.

The scene before him collapses into a vortex deep within his gaze as gods look down upon the mortal world. Upon weaving the first connection with that youth... Icy thorns pierce his palm. The girl's figure shatters, and blood crystallizes into amber.

Like raging waves finally breaking through fragile ice— Ever since then, all his dreams were enshrouded in darkness. Each dawn was judgement upon him.

EVADING

Twilight washed away her chaotic memories, and her old wounds sank into an abyss untouched by light and shadow. Yet in his heart, an impenetrable fog remains. He can neither see anything past it nor find a way to leave.

Their fingertips almost touch... yet they stay suspended... They're ultimately unable to cross that invisible boundary.

Using his own hands, he tears open a wound— one with a newly formed scab. Until he finds redemption, he shall willingly imprison himself within his pain. Like a traveler with a lamp, he cannot let the faint light die out before he escapes the darkness.

PARTING

Ripples of light dance across clear waters as a graceful figure moves between them. They're like fireflies slowly drifting through a dark blue expanse.

She immerses herself completely... And greedily savors the first bright, beautiful season she's experienced in years.

Yet the path beneath his feet will inevitably stretch toward more distant horizons. Too many unknowns are waiting. They're waiting for him to tread into their midst.

As gentle breezes rise and fall... He can only fold an entire summer into a farewell and offer it as a gift to her. Although it was merely a moment of warmth... It remains his only ember and lighthouse as he trudges through the desolate, cold years ahead.

DESTRUCTION

After hesitating for a moment, he finally casts a stone into the barren well between life and death. Black crystals rapidly climb up the veins of his heart. Like tendrils lurking in the abyss, they coldly drain away all warmth.

Thump. Thump. The sound echoes within the crystalline cluster. That heart which bears deadly temptation and danger... It beats, growing more violent by the second.

He clutches the key to reversing life and death. Even after seeing such a miracle... Resolved, he closes that door without any regrets. The world around him returns to silence,and his faith remains untarnished. Yet that alien darkness has already taken root in his soul.

VOW

"I will have the utmost reverence for human life, maintain a sense of duty and dignity in practicing medicine, and adhere to good medical standards..."

This resounding oath like an invisible cord. It tightly binds his dreams to his responsibilities.

His gaze traverses those long years to this sacred moment... It's like breaking dawn that illuminates the night. His naive search ended, and he became a true guardian of life. The mystery that had troubled him so deeply... Perhaps it had already begun to silently sketch the outline of truth.

REVELATION

Pages flutter in the air. The future and the past intertwine... Like a serene yet magnificent chant from the dawn of creation.

Each page records stories forgotten by time. They finally find their place in perpetual cycles. Images dance before his eyes. Blood surges in his chest... It's as if a rift in the universe opened for just a second He sees himself walking across the torrent of time.

Divine whispers pierce through eternal silence. And this indispensable guardian... Finally touches the unspoken covenant.

[didderd]

litol gift doodle i drew for Mothie <3

Motti belongs to @mothiepixie Tic belongs to me

[mellos-blonde-hair]

Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello mello mello mello Mello mello