#demo prop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satori-runa · 2 months ago

Text

—The star of the night

Summary: In the middle of chaos, Reca chooses you, his assistant, to replace the actual actress.

Words: 2k

Tags: Fluff, slight comedy, mr reca being mr reca

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

In your lifetime, you'd never been anywhere more glamorous than Reca's movie set. It was a polished spectacle of wealth, fame, and sheer creative ambition concentrated in a single place.

The set was pristine. Everything from the polished equipment to the crew buzzing around the latest cutting-edge technology spoke of high-budget prowess. Reca had wrangled only the crème de la crème of actors, and the script itself was a masterpiece, lauded by critics before a single frame had even been shot. Naturally, it was no surprise when the man beside you, the very architect of this grandiose vision, let out an audible groan, throwing his head into his hands. He pulled them down his face in a gesture so theatrical it almost belonged on the screen itself.

"No, no, no." He groaned, his voice laced with overdramatic despair. “Not like this. This is supposed to be art. Art!” He gestured wildly at the set. “Any three-year-old could create such a display with macaroni!"

While you found yourself captivated by the scene's intricate design—each prop in perfect position, the textures, the layout of furniture—all meticulously assembled to support the vision of an unfolding narrative, Reca saw only flaws. In his eyes, it was a desecration of the perfection he had so painstakingly envisioned.

To him, everything was wrong. The lighting was lifeless, casting shadows that fell harshly across the actors’ faces, robbing them of the soft glamour he’d imagined. The music? A hollow echo that failed to evoke a single stirring of emotion, as far from evocative as a flat note played on a broken piano. And the actress—the poor, unknowing actress who, in any other setting, would be lauded for her skill—was, to Reca, nothing short of an abomination in this moment. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Does she even know her lines?” He muttered, mostly to himself, though you heard every word. “It’s as if she’s performing in a high school play, not…not this.” He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth, his presence a cyclone of perfectionism.

For the past hour, Reca had been tearing every detail apart. The set he'd once raved about was now an "ill-matched mess." The weeks you'd spent booking this elusive location, the endless calls, the backup locations you’d scouted, and the rejections you’d faced until this one finally came through. The casting? The exhausting process of reviewing tapes, organizing callbacks, going through Reca's list of notes and opinions on each actress, often just to have him change his mind the next day. And that demo track? You’d pulled every string, barely scraping by deadlines, just to make sure everything was in perfect order for him.

And here you were, watching it all unravel with each of Reca’s sighs and exasperated mutterings. As he kept pacing, criticizing the lighting again and muttering that the entire production was in danger of "crumbling into mediocrity," you couldn’t help but let out a silent prayer. An aeon, a muse, a miracle—someone save me, you thought, raising your hands briefly to the heavens in a quiet display of surrender.

Because if Reca’s mood didn’t lighten, there was absolutely no way this movie was getting made today.

Just as you were silently pleading for an escape from this nightmare, Reca’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped in your direction, and his gaze narrowed, a glint of sudden inspiration lighting up his face. You felt a jolt of dread. That look—oh, you knew it too well. It was the same look he had whenever he came up with one of his “brilliant” ideas, which, more often than not, meant you were in for another impossible task.

“You.” He said, pointing at you with a fervor that made you take a step back. “You’ll be perfect.”

You blinked, uncertain if he was joking. “Me?”

“Yes! You!” He clapped his hands together, excitement bubbling up in his eyes. “Don’t you see? You have everything this role needs. Raw energy, authenticity—a complete lack of…training! It’s fresh. It’s real!”

“Reca, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense!” He cut you off, waving your protests away. “You’re exactly what this film is missing! All this time, I was looking in the wrong places. These actresses…they’re too polished. Too practiced. They lack that something—that spark of untamed potential that you have.” He smiled, a bit maniacally, but you could tell he was deadly serious.

“But I’m just your assistant.” You stammered, feeling your face flush. “I don’t know the first thing about acting. I’d probably ruin the entire film!”

“No way.” He insisted, eyes blazing with enthusiasm as if he’d already envisioned you on the big screen. “Think about it! You’ve been here for the whole process, you know every detail. You’ve seen every scene in my head just as I see it. Who else could be better prepared?”

You opened your mouth to protest again, there was no one that had the same vision as him, but he was already motioning to the costume designer, barking orders to prepare an outfit for you. Any hint of hesitation had disappeared from his face. In his mind, you were already cast and rehearsed, the missing piece that would bring his vision to life.

The next thing you knew, you were being ushered into the dressing room, handed a costume, and given a rapid rundown of your character’s motivations—directly from Reca himself, who seemed thrilled beyond measure. Somewhere between his impassioned monologues and the mounting nervousness that took over you, you found yourself on the set, standing beneath the very lights he’d spent hours cursing.

And as the camera rolled, with Reca’s wide-eyed gaze fixed intently on you, you couldn’t shake the surreal feeling. You’d gone from assistant to lead actress in a single, unpredictable twist, and despite your inexperience, you found yourself saying the lines and stepping into the role…all under the watchful, eager eyes of a director who now thought you were the perfect star.

The set had quieted down, and the crew took a break, leaving only a few people around. Reca, still lingering near you after that intense practice, watched the others drift away before turning back to you with a small, thoughtful smile.

“Let’s run through it one more time, mon cherie.” He said, his voice softer now. “Off camera. Just us.” There was a vulnerability in his tone you hadn’t heard before—a subtle, unspoken invitation.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding again. With the equipment and the audience gone, the space between you felt strangely intimate, as if stepping outside the boundary of the roles you were supposed to be playing.

He took a steadying breath and stood before you, his gaze searching yours. “Close your eyes.” He said, his hand brushing yours. “Forget the lines, the lights. Just…feel it.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. You could feel the warmth of his presence, so close now that every brush of his hand seemed to linger, every movement deliberate. He guided you gently, his fingertips tracing the edges of your hand until your fingers were laced together, his touch grounding, even protective.

“Imagine…” he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion, “Imagine there’s no one here but us. No cameras. No crew.”

You opened your eyes, and he was watching you, his gaze vulnerable and sincere in a way you hadn’t seen before. His expression held an emotion that was entirely unscripted—almost a question lingering in his eyes, as if he was daring you to step closer.

His hand moved to your face, fingertips lightly tracing your cheek. The way he looked at you was overwhelming, like he was seeing parts of you no one had ever seen before. It felt like he was letting you in, past the director, past the confident professional, to something real and deeply hidden.

“Just us.” He murmured, almost to himself, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a second, it felt like he might kiss you—not as part of a scene, not as an actor in a role, but as himself.

You swallowed, your own emotions swelling, breaking past the practiced distance of assistant and director. The way he looked at you, the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, felt impossibly real. It wasn’t just acting. Not anymore.

And in that shared silence, the line between character and reality blurred completely, leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was something there that neither of you had dared to speak aloud.

Your breath caught as Reca leaned in closer, his hand cradling your face with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat that stretched on, filled with a tension so thick it felt like the air had turned electric. His thumb brushed gently across your cheek, and you felt your heart pounding, anticipation building with each passing second.

You closed your eyes, half-expecting, half-hoping for the kiss that seemed to hover right on the edge of happening. The moment felt impossibly fragile, a secret shared only between the two of you. And just as you felt him draw in that final breath…

He pulled back, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes, and he spun around, letting out a shout that shattered the delicate silence. “Yes! That’s it! THAT expression—exactly what we need!”

You blinked, still reeling, as he practically leapt away from you, his energy blazing. “Everyone!” He called out, his voice filled with exhilaration. “Get ready to film! Now, now, now! We have to capture this—she’s got the emotion perfect, it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

The crew scrambled into action, quickly setting up cameras and adjusting lights as you stood there, frozen and feeling a little…lost. You watched him pace excitedly, giving orders and pointing out positions, his focus now on preparing the scene. Meanwhile, you felt your cheeks flush with the sudden realization that the almost-kiss hadn’t been what you thought at all.

You felt the warmth creeping up your cheeks, your heart still racing from the almost-kiss that had left you somewhere between flustered and bewildered. As the crew finished setting up, you broke into a grin, chuckling softly at the absurdity of it all. Reca had played you perfectly, swept you into the scene so thoroughly that, for a moment, you’d forgotten where the acting stopped and the real feelings began. You couldn’t help but shake your head, laughing at yourself.

Reca, seeing your smile, grinned back, clearly thrilled that he’d managed to get such an authentic reaction. “That’s the spirit!” he cheered, clapping his hands together in delight. “I knew you had it in you!”

“You know, Reca.” You said, trying to keep the teasing note in your voice light as you crossed your arms, “you played me well. Got me all caught up in the moment. Almost too well, actually.”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Only did what any good director would do.” He replied, a playful edge in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a spark of confidence as you leaned in just a little. “Well, maybe we should rehearse some more roles in private sometime.” You suggested, your smile turning slightly coy. “You know…just to pick up where you left me hanging.”

For the briefest second, he looked taken aback, his eyes widening as if surprised by your boldness. But then, that familiar grin returned, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Perhaps we will.” he said, his voice a touch lower, his gaze still locked on you. “Only if you think you can handle a bit more of my…methods.”

Your smile deepened, and you felt a thrill run through you. Maybe, just maybe, the line between acting and reality was thinner than you’d thought. And if Reca wanted to blur it a little more…well, you couldn’t say you’d mind.

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #mr reca x reader #mr reca #honkai star rail #honkai mr reca #hsr mr reca #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #mr reca fluff

477 notes · View notes

misaerabl · 16 days ago

Text

Kiss And Tell (Or Not)

"Teach me how to kiss" CONTENT: wc...1.4k ✦ just kissing, r and e are "friends", just two losers SUMMARY: When your best friend Ellie—an awkward disaster with an inflated ego—casually flaunts her dating experience, you jokingly ask her to teach you how to kiss. Things escalate quickly from a half-hearted peck to a proper tutorial, leaving both of you flustered, laughing, and maybe questioning what this whole "friendship" thing even means.

It started as a joke, as most things with Ellie did. She was lying on your bed, her legs kicked up against the wall, her favorite beat-up hoodie pulled over her head. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, the laptop in front of you long forgotten as the conversation shifted to relationships—or, more specifically, your lack of one.

“I can’t believe you’ve had two relationships, and I haven’t even been kissed,” you said, throwing a pillow at her. She caught it with a dramatic grunt, smirking like the smug idiot she was.

“What can I say? People can’t resist me,” Ellie replied, brushing her knuckles against her chest like she was the hottest thing alive.

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might fall out of your skull. “You’re so full of it.”

“Full of charm,” she countered, grinning.

But the grin faded when you didn’t say anything for a moment, staring down at your lap instead. Ellie noticed, propping herself up on her elbows to study you.

“Hey,” she started, her voice softer now. “You good?”

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip before blurting out the thought that had been simmering in your head for the past few minutes. “You could teach me.”

“Teach you what?”

“How to, you know... kiss.”

Her jaw actually dropped, and for a moment, you thought she was going to laugh. But she didn’t. Instead, she blinked at you like you’d just asked her to solve world hunger.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Never mind. Forget I said anything,” you said quickly, heat rushing to your face.

“No, no, no. Hang on,” Ellie said, sitting up completely now. “You’re telling me you want me to teach you how to kiss because I’ve dated two people?”

“Well... yeah,” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

She was quiet for a moment, and then: “You really think I’m qualified for that?”

You shot her a look. “Ellie, you’re the only person I know who’s been in a relationship. Twice.”

“Fair point,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck. She still looked like she couldn’t believe what was happening. “Okay, so, uh... how do we do this?”

You gave her a flat look. “You’re the one with the experience. Shouldn’t you know?”

“Right, right,” she said, nodding like she was about to present a PowerPoint on the subject. She leaned forward a little, her expression awkwardly serious. “Okay, so... uh, close your eyes, I guess?”

“This is so weird,” you muttered but did as she said, squeezing your eyes shut and waiting.

You felt her shift closer, the bed creaking beneath her. Then, after a beat, her lips brushed yours—soft, hesitant, and barely there. It was over almost as quickly as it started, and when you opened your eyes, Ellie was already pulling back, her ears a suspicious shade of red.

Ellie sat back, rubbing the back of her neck and looking anywhere but at you. “Well, there you go. First kiss—check. You’re welcome.”

You frowned, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up your neck. “That wasn’t... I mean, it barely counted.”

She gawked at you. “What do you mean it barely counted? You said you wanted to learn, and I taught you!”

“That wasn’t teaching, Ellie. That was, like... the demo version,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Ellie groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Are you kidding me right now? You want a full-on tutorial?”

“I want a proper kiss,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “You’re supposed to show me how to do it right, aren’t you? I mean, how am I supposed to learn from that?”

She looked at you, her eyebrows raised like you’d just asked her to climb Mount Everest. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Yes, I do,” you shot back, though the flush on your cheeks was betraying your confidence.

Ellie groaned again, flopping back onto the bed. “This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever asked me to do, and that’s saying something.”

“Ellie, come on,” you insisted, tugging on her sleeve. “Please? Just... one more time? A proper kiss.”

She let out a long, dramatic sigh, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Fine. But if this ruins our friendship, it’s on you.”

“It won’t ruin anything,” you said quickly, though a tiny voice in the back of your head wondered if that was true.

Ellie sat up again, her face pink but determined. “Alright. Sit here,” she said, patting the bed next to her.

You hesitated for a moment before climbing up and sitting cross-legged across from her. The air between you felt heavier now, charged with an energy that hadn’t been there before.

“Okay,” Ellie said, clearing her throat. “This time, no half-assing it. Got it?”

“Got it,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned in again, slower this time, giving you plenty of chances to back out. But you didn’t. Her hand found its way to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. When her lips met yours, it wasn’t hesitant like before. It was soft but certain, warm but not overwhelming.

This time, it wasn’t over so quickly. Ellie tilted her head slightly, her movements careful and unhurried, as if she was trying to make sure you understood each step. When she finally pulled back, her face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and she couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Happy now?” she mumbled, her voice almost gruff.

You nodded, your heart still racing. “That... yeah. That was good. Proper.”

“Good,” she said quickly, standing up and pacing the room like she needed to burn off some of the awkward energy. “Glad we got that out of the way.”

You watched her, biting back a smile. “You know, for a self-proclaimed charmer, you’re awfully flustered.”

She shot you a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “Shut up.”

Ellie had been pacing the room after the kiss, her hands stuffed into her hoodie pocket, muttering to herself about how "this was so weird" and "friends don’t do this kind of stuff." You had stayed on the bed, still trying to process what just happened, your fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

Eventually, her pacing stopped, and she leaned back against the wall, her head thudding softly against it as she exhaled a long breath. “Okay, so... that was... something,” she muttered, glancing at you.

You looked up at her, and suddenly, her eyes locked with yours. Neither of you said anything, but the room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with something unsaid.

Her gaze was steady, and before you knew it, she was pushing off the wall and crossing the short distance between you. The tension that had been simmering finally snapped as she leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that wasn’t hesitant or experimental this time. It was deliberate, almost urgent, like something she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Your breath hitched in surprise, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into her, your hands clutching the fabric of her hoodie as if you needed something to hold on to. The kiss was different—less about teaching and more about... feeling.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, and her breath came in soft, uneven puffs. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. “I... I don’t know why I did that.”

You swallowed, your chest tight. “Don’t be sorry.”

Ellie leaned back slightly to look at you, her expression conflicted. “This was supposed to be a lesson, not... whatever that was.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind still spinning from the kiss. But instead of answering, you reached out, your fingers curling around her wrist. “Ellie...”

Her name on your lips seemed to ground her, and for a moment, she just looked at you, her green eyes searching your face like she was trying to figure something out. Then she sighed, a soft, almost defeated sound, and flopped onto the bed beside you, her hand brushing yours.

“Well,” she said, breaking the silence with a dry chuckle, “you’re officially not bad at kissing now.”

You laughed despite yourself, the tension easing just a little. But even as the two of you fell back into your usual banter, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had changed—and that maybe, just maybe, Ellie felt it too.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie fanfic #tlou ellie #ellie #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you

329 notes · View notes

cloudcountry · 1 month ago

Text

SUMMARY: you are forever grateful that mr. chopped is safe.

COMMENTS: some domestic fluff with a side of ambiguous relationships & mutual pining :3 this fic takes place post canon!! i have not actually played the full game yet LOL only the demo so pls forgive if its inconsistent

It’s a morning just like any other, one were you wake up with Mr. Chopped sleeping soundly by your side. Raising from the bed, the blankets slide off your body and crumple around your form. The head beside you furrows his brow at the movement and loss of warmth, groaning as he moves ever so slightly in his sleep.

You smile softly and tuck him back in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. The creases of the blanket curl around him protectively, a testament to your affection.

You spare a moment to stare lovingly down at him before you start getting ready for the day. The crowbar propped up against your nightstand goes virtually unnoticed as you slip off the bed and out your bedroom door.

Fixing breakfast is quick as always, a light meal for you and a little something for him. You’re not sure how he eats, being just a head and all, but you don’t question it. It’s okay if you don’t know things, just so long as he’s safe and sound.

As your knife slices through the fruit of your choice, you stare at the utensil and purse your lips. It’s about time you and Mr. Chopped go back and visit Mr. Silvair and Mr. Crawling. Both of them must have missed you so terribly, even if the former doesn’t show it much.

It’s always been easy to lose yourself in your thoughts whenever you’re alone in the mornings like this, but it hardly ever lasts long. Soon enough, you hear the sleepy whining and cooing that could only come from your favorite person.

Abandoning the fruit on the cutting board, you make your way to the bedroom with purposefully louder steps. It’s a habit you picked up ever since he told you he doesn’t like surprises, especially not when he’s sleepy and vulnerable.

Safe. You want that for him.

He lights up when he sees you, shouting a jumbled mix up of greetings and I like yous and want carry, and so you scoop him into your arms and hold him close as his voice becomes muffled in your sleep shirt. Your heart expands, eyes and hands softening at the familiar weight on him, his dark eyes staring up at you over the fabric of your clothes.

“ Precious. ” you say, and he blinks because he does not understand.

You kiss him, brushing your lips over his forehead, and then he does.

He’s quick to yap about the kitchen, repeating words like fridge and fruits and voicing his excitement over your breakfast. You set him gently on the counter and he pouts, but when you feed him a slice of fruit he seems rather placated.

You finish cutting the fruit with practiced strokes and gather together the rest of your breakfast, occasionally responding to Mr. Chopped’s comforting chatter. Every time he opens his mouth, wide enough that it’s almost a bit ridiculous, you end up giggling as you feed him. Each time, those fruit stained lips twist up in a frown. You assure him you’re not laughing at him, that you’re just happy, and he smiles again and proclaims that he is happy, too .

It’s easy to settle at the table and prop your phone up against the vase in the center, pulling up whatever mindless content you feel like watching that day. The vase is full of flowers he picked out just for you, colorful and bright and oh so happy. You’ve found that he’s fond of brighter colors and flashier patterns when you did his hair with your collection of hairclips for the first time. He gravitated towards the ones you barely ever wore, since it was just so hard to find an outfit to match them with...he was delighted when you offered to let him wear them whenever he wants.

A gift. From someone who just wants him to be happy.

“Precious.” you say again, looking over him fondly, brushing his hair away from his face with the tips of your fingers.

He seems pleased, preening under your attention, and you can’t resist scooting closer so he can lean against your thigh. He takes the invitation gratefully, rubbing his cheek against the bare skin he finds there, only gnawing on the flesh a little bit.

You laugh because it tickles, because you adore him and he adores you, because you are happy. And the most lovely thing about it all, is that he is, too.

#auburn's fics <3 #homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr chopped #mr chopped head #mr chopped x reader #mr chopped head x reader

198 notes · View notes

xxgoldie · 26 days ago

Note

went to karaoke and someone sang crush by david archuleta so now im thinking abt lighter romance enthusiast lorenz also listening to the most pining songs just the sappiest playlist known to man

as usual, i am Obsessed with lighter being down bad. he's such a fucking dork, i need him. have been listening to a variety of love song playlists for the last few days as i write this and its not helped the brainrot. cw: none, pure fluff, gn!reader wc: 444 (or 618 with the bonus)

when he's out and about, he tends to listen to metal and rock, the same kind of stuff that's in his demo trailer. it gets him in the right headspace for his champion duties. when he's alone, though? his headphones are playing exclusively sappy glitter-gel-pen love songs. he would rather die than let anyone know, he has an image to upkeep - wouldn't even put it past him to have a second spotify account, bc u know the girls will bug him to see his wrapped every year.

within the love song genre, his favourite songs are ones that remind him of you.

his listening history is an amalgamation of different musical styles, but what he really pays attention to is the lyrics; if there's a song that really captures the way he feels about you, or one where the singer describes their lover and they're similar to you, he can't help but put it on repeat. he also loves duets - just like with romance movies, he loves imagining its the two of you in that situation. when he's deep in crush territory, he'll even make a playlist of those songs (it's long - can't help that every other song reminds him of you).

when you're finally together, he's more open about his love of love songs. it may take a bit into your relationship, during some late-night conversation about your respective silly behaviours when you were pining over each other, for him to show you the playlist, titled with just your initial and a heart emoji. but even before that, if you happen to play any of the songs he secretly listens to, you might catch him singing along under his breath (lowkey this post every five seconds). you might chalk it up to him picking up the words of songs the girls listen to, but that's because you don't catch the way he looks at you with the lyrics on his lips.

there are other times where he'll slide up behind you in your kitchen, arms around your waist and head propped on your shoulder, the domesticity and the fact you're wearing his tshirt getting to him. he's not much of a singer, but he'll hum one of those songs in that moment (his voice has a lovely smooth n deep timbre, so his humming sounds Heavenly in your ear). he might get a little embarrassed if you recognise the song and start humming along with him, or god forbid singing, but he'll still sway the both of you along to the music. he's not much of a dancer either, but he can figure out a midnight slow dance in the kitchen for you.

bonus!! a few songs i think he'd listen to, tho kinda influenced by my own music taste (+ spotify links): kiss her you fool - kids that fly (he has it on loop when he's psyching himself up to ask you out) meteor shower - cavetown davy crochet - the backseat lovers (perhaps i'm biased on this one bc i crochet) stitch me up - set it off can't help falling in love - elvis presley cloud 9 - beach bunny ("even when we fade eventually to nothing / you will always be my favourite form of loving" really hits with his whole 'dying for love' thing) love grows (where my rosemary goes) - edison lighthouse paper rings - taylor swift jackie and wilson - hozier (there's a lot of hozier in his playlists, but he really likes the thought of a family with you, even if that's only a couple lines of the song) valentine - atlas sweet tooth - cavetown ("guess i must be satisfactory / you said you love me exactly the way i am" takes him Out i can just feel it) would you be so kind - dodie

237 notes · View notes