#ballerina bun
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fracturedporcelaindoll · 5 months ago
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Dear diary,
Want to hear something ironic? I like to think about being a model sometimes though considering majority start as childhood or early teen models I'm probably past my prime to be trying to enter the ever competitive world of modeling.~
Let's see what else......... I've been thinking maybe my best style for hair is a bun since it's often that I'll get compliments from older ladies when I do it that way.~
The problem is headaches, if I leave my hair in ponytail or bun too long the pressure will start to give me headaches I know it sounds weird but it is a thing, apparently you can be sensitive or rather your hair can be sensitive which can effect that sorta thing etc.~
Braids, I think I've gotten better recently at braiding my own hair although it doesn't look perfectly glamourous or anything like that~
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fresherfriut · 5 months ago
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j0lie11 · 8 months ago
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Felt like graduation day🩰
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three-red-horns · 2 years ago
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A perfect ballerina bun! Forget the boobs, it's all in the details...
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morelikeravenbore · 8 months ago
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Sebastian: come to the Undercroft later 😏
Aurélie: mm, i'll think about it 💅
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ai-satin-chic · 8 months ago
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"It's really so kind of you to drive me to dance rehearsal. I owe you one".
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ballet-contemp · 8 months ago
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ashmp3 · 4 months ago
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i love my body so much #goated
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magicalgirloftheday · 1 year ago
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✧・゚:*Today’s magical girl of the afternoon is: Cure Princess - Sherbet Ballet from Happiness Charge PreCure!!✧・゚:*
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scrunchiesandsquips · 1 year ago
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happy nutcracker season to all who celebrate
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lordrataxesofrhinoland · 2 years ago
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random n gin stuff I have lying around
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fresherfriut · 3 months ago
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beloveds-embrace · 4 months ago
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masterpost
Hi! You can call me Noona! I write whatever comes to my mind and atm, I am very much obsessed with CoD and Genshin/Capitano. I am very much open to hearing ideas and just yapping in general, but I also can’t promise that I will write every request.
What I don’t write: fully explicit smut, suicide
Masterlist has not been updated fully. Use the tag noona.writes to see everything I’ve written!
Masterlist:
Goddess!reader x poly 141
Baker!Reader x 141 + part 2
Sick!Reader x 141
Bite kink with Soap
Yandere Capitano + part two
Matchmaker buns + part two
Bundad Simon
Firefighters!141 x reader
CoD Expiration date concept
Magic Mike 141 x stage manager!reader
Monster!141 x chubby reader + part two
harpy Gaz x wingless reader concept + oneshot + more
Lavender Marriage au + part two
Abused reader x poly 141 + part two
moose Konig
reaction to a dark romance reader
Haunted house moans
rugby player simon x ballerina reader
divorced but obsessed simon x reader
Ghoap angst concept
simon x family traditions
Horrible konig concept
john price x single mom reader
simon and a certain someone grieving your loss
john catches you making out with one of his men
from simon's girl to his missus
johnny's supportive nature
you came/you called
spoiling them when they return from missions
false accusations concept
going to them for safety + guard dogs
lipstick testing
Big eater simon riley
kittens named after their titles
poly 141 x farmer reader
poly 141 x neighbor reader
house-trained Simon Riley + p2
Clubs and Oiled men
Shared-Wife trope
vampire 141 x blood donor reader
bear price x chubby reader, winter day
bodyguards 141 x sick reader
Dukedom 141 Masterlist
CoD Omegaverse
Roommate au masterlist
Until the Last Loop
Here Comes the Sun + p2
Witch of the Woods
ANONS
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noonecareslol · 13 days ago
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˖ ִ ೀ 𝐀 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭 𝟐
Hwang In-ho x Fem! Reader
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Summary: When the games aren’t in session, and In-ho is lonely, he finds himself in the first row at the ballet. Watching you. After you entered his life, everything changed. His secret is becoming harder to hide, along with his love.
TW: Channeling my love for older men. Age gap (reader is 25 In-ho is 49). Just FLUFF with SMUT! In-ho learning how to love someone again. Quite literally head over heels for you. Size kink if you squint.
WC! 3k Part 1! -> here!
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You were twelve when you started to dance.
You had been walking with your friend, heading to a convenience store when you saw it.
“Limelight Dance Studio”
However, it wasn’t the sign that caught your attention. Or the big beautiful building that looked like it belonged in a fairytale. What caught your attention was the woman walking into the studio.
Her hair was in a tight, slick bun, and her loose jacket covered her torso. Her pointe shoes were clutched in her hand as she rushed in, pushing past the door as she headed toward her class.
That day you went home and marched straight up to your mother, a flier clutched in your tiny hands. She said no at first, practically shattering your small heart. But without you knowing, she spent that month saving every cent she could, surprising you with a pair of ballet flats and admission to the dance studio.
From then on, your life centered around ballet.
At 17, you finally transitioned to Pointe after years of training. And once you laced the ribbons, you were unstoppable. Every time you were on stage, you were in your element. Glowing with potential.
Dancing is where you thrive. It’s where you belonged.
You studied abroad at Juilliard for four years, becoming the perfect ballerina you had strived to be. And when you returned, the Seoul Ballet Company practically begged you to dance for them.
You accepted the offer calmly, but deep down the little girl who had fallen in love with dance was screaming. You have finally achieved your dream.
You were perfect. Life was perfect. It was fulfilled, and you didn’t need anything more.
Right?
You had your fair share of relationships, but nothing ever serious. Not when your life centered around ballet. Your career was always the main reason your relationships ended, but you couldn't care less.
Men didn't make you happy, dance did.
And you knew that for a relationship to work, you would have to find someone just like you. Busy, determined, focused, perfect.
One night, after many glasses of wine, you realize your standards are extremely unrealistic.
Which, they are.
So you decided to give up on dating.
But often, when it’s late at night, you find yourself lonely. You thought about getting a cat, which you had been excited about. But your bitchy landlord didn’t allow it. So instead, you found comfort in watching old movies.
They came on after dark. The black and white glow illuminating your small living room. You would come home from practice, tossing your bag by the front door before jumping onto the couch. Snacks in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and your eyes glued to the flatscreen. You would stay up late, watching Audrey Hepburn explore Rome or enjoy a breakfast at Tiffany's until you fall asleep.
You’d wake up at 8:00 am, sluggishly getting ready for the gym before chugging your espresso. You’d work out, maybe some pilates or weight training, then grab some lunch. Sometimes you would come home and take a nap, sometimes you would hang out with friends, but often you found yourself lounging by the cafe.
People watching had became your favorite activity.
You’d sit in the uncomfortable metal chair, your chicken salad sandwich sitting untouched on the table in front of you, and you’d watch as people went about their day.
The cafe was placed across the street from a tall building full of luxury apartments, which you bet probably allowed cats. Yes, you were still bitter about that.
One specific day, when you were sitting in the familiar metal chair, you found yourself watching someone intently.
He was quickly walking down the sidewalk, carefully dodging people as he carried a brown bag full of groceries. You gasped as a stranger ran out in front of him abruptly, knocking his belongings to the floor.
You scoffed as the person he’d crashed into walked past, not even offering to help. And your feet almost moved on their own as you walked straight over to help him gather his groceries.
Little words were exchanged, “Thank you.” “You didn’t have to do that.” “Have a nice day.” You assumed he didn’t pay much attention to the interaction.
But you did.
There was something so captivating about him. Something so endearing that captured your attention, something you couldn’t quite describe.
Since then, you often hoped to see him again.
You just didn’t expect to see him in the front row at your ballet.
That was a surprise.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“Pspspsps!” You rubbed your fingers together, bending down to the ground, “Come here, Elisabeth. Pspsps!”
The fluffy white cat came around the corner, eying you with skepticism as you motioned her to approach you. She was a sassy girl and didn’t fully trust you yet, but that didn’t bug you.
She was honestly intimidating.
You smile widely as she walks towards you, happy to finally make a connection with her. But as she walked past you without even a glance, you sighed, watching as she planted herself in front of your boyfriend's feet.
You stood up and rested your hands on your hips, "She'll love me one day." You watched as she rubbed against In-ho's legs, a quiet purr causing a small smile to form on your lips.
She is intimidating, but she sure is cute.
In-ho keeps his gaze on you, watching how you slightly pout at Elisabeth's adorable nature. His heart flutters, something that's becoming increasingly common in the last five months of your relationship.
It has been five months since your ankle fracture, which is now completely healed thanks to In-ho's firm instructions to rest. You honestly think he just didn't want you to leave his apartment, but you weren't complaining.
Five months since your shared kiss that ultimately changed both of your lives. You moved in after about three months, which turned out to be a great idea, despite everyone saying it was too soon. When he first brought up the question, you were skeptical. But as soon as he mentioned an in-unit washer and dryer, you took the key.
Your mother was concerned at first, especially about the age gap. But you brushed it off. In-ho was quite literally perfect for you, as were you for him. Age didn't matter to you when you both completed each other's heart.
The first thing you did when you moved in was decorate. Not his entire apartment, obviously, but you did go to Home Depot and buy a few plants.
Cat-safe, of course.
Once your ankle healed, you went back to dancing. And, just like before, every Friday In-ho would watch you practice. Though he doesn't sit in the back anymore, he sits front and center.
After your practice, he always gives you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tulips. He would take your bag with his arm around yours, and you would walk to your apartment together.
Life was, simply put, perfect.
It was bliss. A happiness that was only obtained when you brought down your walls and let a stranger in. A stranger who captured your heart, mind, and everything in between.
When you first discovered his collection of old films and music, you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then. You knew you were perfect for each other already, but the shared interest solidified that.
Nights aren't lonely anymore. Not when your bed is shared by the man who you adore, and a fluffy white cat who is determined to sleep with you.
His arms are wrapped around you, your back pressed to his chest as he holds you tight. His head nuzzled into the back of your neck as he snores, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as you dream.
Your legs are tangled, intertwined under the covers as your hearts beat the same rhythm. Your hands are wrapped on top of his, the feeling of being in his arms familiar and comfortable. It would be impossible to sleep without each other, you both knew that.
So when In-ho sits you down on a warm June night and explains he has to leave for a work trip, you cry. I know, it's dramatic. But you had spent the last five months in each other's presence. Holding each other, kissing each other, making love on the very bed you sleep in together. Where you went, he followed. Where he traveled, you joined.
You needed him. He was the air that filled your lungs, giving you breath. He was the blood that flowed through your veins and pumped your heart, giving you life. He was your soul, your mind. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you knew it.
Vice versa, you were his whole being. He based every decision around you, around your future together. He's made sacrifices you couldn't even imagine. He went from letting the games be the center of his life, to you being the center of his universe.
You were all he could think about.
Important business meeting about the upcoming games? Forget it. In-ho is at home making Kimchi with you, having forgotten all about it.
Meeting with the V.I.P's? What meeting. In-ho is too busy indulging in his desire with his tongue deep in your core, a hand clamped around your throat.
You were his sole purpose on this earth. Where you walked, flowers bloomed behind you. Wherever you went, the sun would shine. In-ho felt he didn't deserve you. No, he knew he didn't deserve you.
He never told you that though. Of course, if he did, you would smack him upside the head, "Seven days? Where are they making you go?" You cried into his shoulder, your body resting on his lap as he sat back on the plush couch.
His heart breaks a little at the sound of your cries, his thumb brushing away the tears that fell, "I just have to host this private game. I'll be back so soon, I promise." Your cries didn't change, his shirt dampening as you snuggled deeper into his chest, "I will call you every chance I can. I promise."
You looked up at him, giving a pathetic sniffle as you spoke, "When do you leave?" You sit up fully now, straightening your top. He rubs his big hand over your arm, watching as goosebumps trail behind.
He looks up at you, a hand fiddling with your exposed bra strap, "Tomorrow morning." He sighs as he watches a pout form on your pretty mouth, his thumb brushing over your lips.
"What do I do while you're gone?" You pull his hand from your face, holding it in your own as you play with his fingers.
In-ho hasn't failed to notice how his pants tightened since you've been sitting innocently on his lap, your hips slowly rocking as you sobbed into his shoulder moments ago. You knew it too. The second he played with your bra strap, the emotion in the air changed from angst to lust.
And if he was going to be gone for seven days, might as well enjoy the night, "Come here." His voice was low and demanding as he took his hand from your grasp, taking a hold of your side.
Your mouth parted as his hand moved down, softly caressing every curve of your perfect body. Though his eyes stayed peering into your own, watching your reaction to every touch.
He smirked as you gave a breathless gasp, his hand pinching your hip as you slowly grind your hips down. His hard cock rubbing against your desire raises an all-too-familiar feeling in the deep of your stomach.
Wordlessly, his hand comes behind you, laying you down on the couch as he stands up. Towering over your body as he unbuttoned his shirt, your eyes trail across every inch of exposed skin.
He moves between your legs, his hands coming to your face as he pulls you into a needy kiss. Your hands find his back, your fingers rubbing, digging into his skin as he fucks your mouth with his tongue.
He pulls away, breathlessly moving his hands down to the hem of your shirt. You watch with lustful eyes as he tugs your top up and over your head with one swift motion. His hands find your bare skin, pinching and squeezing your sides with hunger in his dark eyes.
Heat pools between your thighs, your hand sneaking under your panties as In-ho unhooks your bra swiftly. He leans back, taking you in awe as he trails his eyes over your body.
He gives a small laugh at the sight of your hand slowly fucking yourself, "Tsk, as much as I love seeing you do that, you will have seven days to do it. Tonight, you don't have to do a thing."
Your eyes snap open as he dips his hand under your panties and over your own, moving your hand up to your parted mouth. He pushes your hand towards your lips, a smirk evident on his own as he puts your delicate fingers inside your pretty mouth.
He sighs as you taste yourself, the heat becoming unbearable between your goose-bumped legs, "See how sweet you taste? Do you see why im starved all the time?" He kisses your jaw between his words, his hands slipping off your bottoms, your panties gone with it.
He stands again, tossing your clothes into a pile, his bottoms going with it. He towers over the couch, intimidating you like he did all those months ago.
You sit up, your small hands delicately reaching up and leaving tiny bolts of electricity on his abs as you trace down. You take your thumb, wiping the precum from his sensitive tip. His head falls back just from that touch alone, and as desperate as he is to see your lips swollen and wrapped around him, he remembers his promise.
You lean down, your lips centimeters away from his length when his strong hand pulls your chin up, "You aren't doing a thing, remember?" You whine, his strong arms laying you back down on the couch.
He comes between your legs again, lifting your hips up as he traces his cock between your pussy. The sound of your slick fills his ears, and a small "fuck" falls from his lips. It takes everything in you not to buck your hips, the need becoming irresistible as he lines himself up with your core.
He takes a hand and lifts your face, desperate to see your pretty eyes as he fucks into you. As he sinks in, the familiar feeling of ecstasy overtakes him as he stretches you.
He sets a rhythm, fucking you as he stares into your eyes, your eyebrows raised and mouth agape as your hips meet with a slap. His free hand comes behind your waist, supporting your legs as you meet his thrusts.
In-ho didnt fuck.
He made love.
And that shit was passionate as fuck.
His eyes never left yours. Not once. Not even when he places a hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock deep in your womb. You, on the other hand, writhed beneath him. Your moans filling your shared apartment, mixing with the pornographic sounds from In-ho,.
Your head sank back into the couch, your hand coming to hold his own as he quickened his thrusts. His other hand that supported you moved to your clit, pressing and rubbing perfectly over your sensitive bud.
If there was one thing about In-ho, it's that he's determined to make you cum with him.
Every. Single. Time.
So when his hand reaches your clit, you know he's close, "In-ho, please- god. Please don't stop." You didn't yell or scream. Your voice was sultry, full of desire.
He throws a head back at your words, his warmth spilling deep into your womb with one final deep thrust as you clench around him. You meet him, finding your own ethereal as you reach your climax.
He whines with his thrusts as he slows down, emptying into your tight core, "When... when I'm gone." You furrow your eyebrows, catching your breath as he pulls out of you, "This next week, when I'm gone."
He lays with you on the couch, pulling you to lay on his chest, "Whenever you need me, I want you to use your pretty little fingers and fuck yourself while you think about this moment." You blushed, despite just taking his cock only a moment ago.
He brings his hand to your face, his thumb parting your lips, "Can you promise me that?" Your eyes slightly water, remembering why you were even crying in the first place.
"I promise." Your voice was a whisper, smiling up at In-ho as he kissed your forehead. You take a deep breath, realizing just how much he means to you. Just how much you need him.
If only you knew.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃 𓈒 𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
An: I actually wrote most of this during my mom's colonoscopy LMFAO. Also, guys imma be so fr with you, I'm so tired lmao. But here! The long-awaited part 2 which is basically just fluff to smut lmao. I've never been one to really write part twos (I hate feeling like I HAVE to write because then it turns into a chore) BUT I actually enjoyed writing this one. Im gonna work through my requests and also please join my taglist! Love you guys!
@sxmmerchxldblog @bohemiandelilah @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen  @menabuser16 @speedymagazinewhispers @nellabear  @marymun @orihime188 @nanascupid @fnl9zer @chasinghxran @crystalizia @auspicious-lilana @machipyun @cdej6 @namelesslosers @lovelymindescape @macnbriee @rosegracewood09@gurjxxpp11 @shadow-tumbler @veiledsaint @rosyflowerss
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thehateinc · 2 years ago
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no offense but i hate manbun kirishima
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mywritersmind · 2 months ago
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THE FAT MAN IN THE RED - LN4
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summary : Lando Norris promised two hours of his night to wave to little ballerinas and have them whisper their wishes to him in a Santa costume. His night starts looking up when a woman his age lands on his lap.
listen up : no warnings tbh! suggestive jokes SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS GONNA WRITE A LOT BUT ITS ALREADY CHRISTMAS TO HAVE THIS
words : 692
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Oh please! Come meet Santa!” My little sister Mari tugs on my hand. She’s in a little pink tutu and a slick back bun, her ballet shoes have been changed into her usual converse.
We’re at an after party/fundraiser for her ballet show, the kids were all surprised by a man dressed as santa. She was adorable, a tiny Clara!
Mari skips off with her friends as I turn to mine. Kat downs her drink, “I need another one. Too many kids around.” I laugh and clink her already empty champagne glass.
We walk off to the bar, looking up at the giant chandelier and sprawling stairways. This theater is beautiful, kids in costumes and glitter run around while the society of Monaco gossips and laughs in their presence.
We grab more champagne, smoothing out my dark plum dress and almost twisting an ankle with these silver heels my sister begged me to wear.
“Y/n!” Mari yells, hopping up and down, in line to meet the big man himself. Or… a knock off.
“Oh my.” Kat elbows me, “I’d let him slip down my chimney-” I scoff loudly and laugh, hitting her arm.
“What about that french boy you met?” I raise a brow, my eyes lingering on the man whose face is partially covered by a white wig and beard.
“Oh I see him.” She winks as I giggle, “Come on then, you must meet this cute santa!” I groan as she drags me to the back of the line, “I’ve heard whispers… he’s twenty six.” She whispers as I watch two F1 drivers walk past us.
“I am not sitting on his lap!” I laugh, shaking my head and sipping my drink, Kat grips my arm and pulls me to the front next to Mari.
“What are you asking for?” Mari asks me, clapping her little hands together and tapping her feet.
Her friends touches my dress, “This is so pretty!”
“I heard he’s famous.” One of the ballerinas behind us says just as I get pushed onto the little stand and an elf guides me.
He looks at me, all dressed up and in a whole fat suit. I can’t help but laugh as I get helped onto his lap. I honestly feel horribly awkward, “Sorry… my friend made me.”
His eyes are green, the kind of striking color that stops your thoughts. He tugs down his fake beard, exposing his face and smile.
A very attractive face and smile. “Don’t worry. Are you gonna make me do the voice?” He's got freckles and an accent.
I smile softly, “There’s a voice?”
“What are you asking for this christmas?” He says it in a deep santa like voice.
I laugh, “That’s good.”
“Why thank you…” I raise a brow at his trailing off, “I need a name to match the pretty face, and for the address of your gifts, I suppose.”
Oh he’s a flirt. “Y/n.” I nod, “You gonna make me call you santa?” His fingers brush the side of my hip.
“I’m not that into role playing…” He shakes his head and I spot a tiny dark curl by his ear, “Okay the elf’s are about to get mad. What would you like for Christmas, Y/n?”
He says my name, looking me dead in the eye. Shit I think I might be attracted to Santa.
I bite my lip, “How about, what time Santa gets off?”
His smile shifts into a smirk, “Christmas came early, I guess. Ten.”
He meets me in an empty hallway, Its almost hard to tell if it’s him because of his change in clothes.
He's in a black suit, bowtie and everything. He’s far more agreeable without the white hair.
In fact, the white is replaced with real curls. Dark curls cut into a nice mullet that suits his face. It was in fact a fat suit that I can now clearly see was horribly fake.
I have a sneaking suspicion that tonight is going to be extra interesting now. His hands go to his pockets, that smile on display again for me. “I’m Lando.”
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