#mikable
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sofqie · 7 months ago
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matching super practical outfits!! (they get sent to ormond)
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non4ry · 11 months ago
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okay fine BHVR you win. i’ll draw dead by daylight yuri again
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dorkfruit · 11 months ago
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i heard there was female friendship in the new DBD chapter ??
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betadwight · 5 months ago
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Sable and Mikaela.
In my headcanon Sable really likes Mikaela but is too shy to express her feelings.
I think this is very relatable. Like when u meet an amazing person, but you don’t know how to talk to them. Who hasn’t been there?
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puppypalette · 6 months ago
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coolboil · 11 months ago
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vittorio is sable‘s dad now i won’t be taking questions
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prettypinkpansy · 11 months ago
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"Why can't you let two same gender characters just be friends" Because I am a horrible gremlin rubbing my nasty dyke hands all over the characters you like. Sorry
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kataqasis · 5 months ago
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nosferatu-del-fanart · 24 days ago
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Pining. Longing. All of the longing. Enough to drown in it.
I saw Drive yesterday. I really loved the light and camera work.
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mymilkhasice · 11 months ago
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I think by now we’ve all seen those jokes about how Sable went into the realm in hopes of there being a bunch of eldritch horrors and being immediately disappointed when she has to go against Legion or Skull Merchant or whoever, but can you imagine how Mikaela feels?
Like they’ve been friends for their entire lives so Mikaela almost certainly knows that Sable wouldn’t mind going to the realm if it was all Dredge and Unknown type killers. I just can’t stop thinking about Mikaela seeing Sable in the realm for the first time and after a brief moment of shock and joy, being immediately filled with dread and guilt. She knows Sable won’t be happy here and she knows Sable wouldn’t be here if she didn’t look for her. Sure, Sable was probably excited in some part, but she went to the realm for Mikaela first and she had no clue what she was getting into.
I dunno, just something I’ve been thinking about
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halcy0ng1rl · 21 days ago
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rises the moon | sable x mikaela
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w/c: 3.3k
synopsis: Sable was exhausted. For what felt like days, she had been tucked away in a corner table at the Moonstone trying and failing to find material for her show, yet there Mikaela stood, shining like a beacon on the blackest night.
fluff, wlw, winter aesthetic
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But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same,
Rises the moon. 
December: Downtown Greenville, 2010, 7:45 pm. 
Sable was exhausted. For what felt like days, she had been tucked away in a corner table at the Moonstone, diving through shady internet forums on her prehistoric laptop in a feeble-sounding attempt to research new material for this week's episode of All Things Wicked This Night. The table was buried in curled-up notepad paper, discarded sticky notes, pens, and drained cups of coffee. 
Sable, dressed to the nines in a big white hoodie with her hair messily thrown up in a clip, pressed her fingers to her temples and frowned deeply. The jukebox was routinely stuttering out what was supposed to be relaxing jazz, but only intensified Sable’s rising level of irritability. One more trill of a saxophone, and she would be inclined to throw her fists at it. 
Her fingertips were sore and pink from rapidly slamming her fingers against her computer’s worn keyboard, typing yet not making any worthy progress. Eyelids thick with sleep, she took a moment to escape the cold brightness of her screen and instead looked at Mikaela, a much warmer sight. 
Momentary solace washed over Sable’s tired body as Mikaela smiled and caught her eye from behind the plant-covered barista counter. A calm amidst the storm.
She was wearing a big knitted turtleneck the colour of tumbled amethyst, the sleeves tightly rolled up to reveal the rows of gorgeous golden bracelets adorning her wrists. The smooth, intricate lines of her forearm tattoos stood out beautifully against her porcelain skin and made Sable think, for a moment, of what it might be like to trace them with her fingertips. Her dark blue apron was tied alluringly tight around her waist, an intricate bow securing it in place at the back. Hazy electric blue emitted from the neon sign hung on the wall and mingled with the topaz glow of fairy lights strung around the pillars, casting a gentle contrast of warm and cool to grace her features.
Her delicate hands were busy crafting what was most likely the fiftieth holiday-themed coffee ordered that day, sprinkling red and white bits of crushed peppermint onto a generous accumulation of airy whipped cream. Her haphazardly kept apricot curls danced in front of her face for a moment as she leaned over the counter to hand the steaming cup to the night’s final customer. 
When the door shut and the bell chimed its last, Mikaela let out a relieved sigh and hurried over to flip the neon sign to closed. She hung her star-speckled apron on the rack and let her hair tumble down her shoulders, a visible serenity crossing her freckled face. Distracted, Sable tried to focus on her screen again, but all the words on the tab she had opened blurred into indecipherable blobs. The back of her neck throbbed with a dull ache that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she stretched. 
Sable typed away, now laser-focused on the matter at hand– she loathed the idea of facing an unfinished document in the morning. As she worked, doubts corroded her tired mind. What if she had to cancel this week’s episode and leave the broadcast dead, subsequently disappointing her listeners? Would she take one break and feel compelled to take another, and then another? Was she losing her spark? 
Absorbed in the suddenness of this overwhelming melancholy, she raved nonsensically without thought on the document, each new sentence becoming less coherent than the last; Is it possible that the Yamaoka family was subject to an unwilling act of demonic intervention years before Rin’s father committed his vile crime? The sword that he used may have been an heirloom, passed down as a curse. It is stated that Mrs.Yamaoka’s body was chopped up. Almost in ritual? Goddddd there’s too many theories. Aliens! A fucking MAGIC SWORD! This case is so OLD Oh my GODDDDDDDDDDDDyihbwdjnxmjhghhhhhhhhhh i’m hopeless. 
Needless to say, she wished she had chosen to write about an obviously fake chain mail story, cryptic text post or even a fake ghost sighting instead of something so convoluted—at least then, she could have extended some creative liberty to her craft. Sable retreated further into her hoodie, drearily remembering that she had chosen to waste her day doing this instead of studying for finals. 
“Tired yet?” Sable jumped at an unexpected voice interrupting her frazzled thoughts. Her posture eased when she realized that the voice was not that of a demonic spirit conjured out of her subconscious despair—but Mikaela’s. 
She leaned against the chair across from Sable with a wry smile gracing her lips, forehead painted with concern and slight amusement. 
Sable stretched and finally met her soft eyes, of which she had their undivided attention through thick circular lenses. 
“You don’t know the half of it.” 
Mikaela laughed sweetly, “Look at who you’re talking to,” she gestured toward the cluttered table with one gold-ringed hand. “I’ve been here a thousand times.” 
“Yeah? And do you always feel like gouging your eyes out?” Sable didn’t intend to sound venomous, but the remark bit acridly when she spoke it. She slumped further down in her chair, this time in remorse, and buried her face in her hands. Forlorn. 
Mikaela gently closed Sable’s laptop and stood closer to her. “Only when I overwork myself– which is most of the time,” 
“Terrific.” 
“I think you should take a break from the show for a while,” her voice turned syrupy, and she gently brushed the tips of her fingers along the purple shadows beneath Sable’s right eye. “It’s draining you.” 
Sable let out a relieved breath and leaned into Mikaela’s touch, savouring the momentary solace. “It’s the only thing keeping me sane,” she breathed, knowing as she said it that it wasn’t the full truth. 
In Greenville, being different means being ostracized. Stared at on public transport. Spoken to with overbearing passive aggression. All Things Wicked This Night was a way for Sable to connect with people who understood her, even if from miles away. That fleeting, yet fulfilling feeling of being heard for even a second in the comfortable dark of her attic, alone yet not wholly, made her feel like she wasn’t neurotic for being the way she, to the dismay of onlookers, was. 
She felt as if she owed it to her listeners to be there for them like they always are for her. 
Yet, there was also another constant in her life who was always there for her, patient and understanding and always right around the corner. 
“Maybe being insane for a while could do you some good,” Mikaela laughed, tucking an errant strand of violet behind Sable’s ear. Sable felt her defences weaken, and her heart thrum with a steady adoration. As per usual, Mikaela was right. 
She sighed, looking up at her with a small, accepting smile. “Brace yourself, then.” 
“I’ll be right here.” As Mikaela bent down to kiss Sable on the cheek, she caught a whiff of sweet, vanilla perfume lingering on her neck and welled up with honey-sweet reverence. Her lips were softer than silk, the touch of them a gentle, forthright promise that healed a part of Sable she never knew to be fractured.
 Sable pulled Mikaela down closer to her chest, and for one infinite second, basking in the familiar warmth of her embrace, the bickering in her head faded away into listless murmurs of violet and velvet. She felt herself come back to earth as her fingers dug into the inviting fibres of Mikaela’s sweater, her face kept safely in the crook of her neck. 
She inhaled once, letting the soft, soothing notes of cacao and amber envelop her delicately like a whispered confession. Sable let go as the moment slipped away, feeling a dull, yet content ache settle within her chest as time visibly passed her by. 
Mikaela smiled– her seafoam blue gaze tender and deep and full of emotions that could not accurately be named– and clasped Sable’s icy hands warmly within the sanctuary of her own. Mikaela ran her thumbs over her cracking, stiff knuckles, easing away the discordance weaved into each bone as if to say it’s okay, I’m here. 
Sable latched onto her again and closed her eyes. She could hear the faint whistle of a blizzard raging outside the window, shaking the barren trees. 
“I’ll make you a tea,” Mikaela unclipped Sable’s hair and smoothed it out with her fingers, staring for a moment out at the puffs of dreamlike snow falling beyond the frost-covered glass before walking back to the counter. 
Sable curled her knees up to her chest and held herself together, cradling the tendrils of warmth Mikaela’s touch left behind close to her heart. She pressed her nose to her sleeves and inhaled, delighted to find a scintilla of her perfume interwoven in the fibres. Her eyes followed Mikaela fondly as she began to mosey about the small kitchen space– they were in their own little world where it was just the two of them, along with the ever-falling snow. 
The kettle bubbled and hissed, and Mikaela’s bracelets jingled musically as she procured Sable’s tea. She gathered small drips of golden honey onto a spoon and stirred them soundlessly into the steaming mug like a witch stirring her misty cauldron– a comparison that made Sable chuckle softly into her sleeve, too low for anyone to hear– then softly whispered an incantation with her eyes closed. 
Sable could feel the warm blessings seeping into her chilled hands as Mikaela handed it to her, outfitted in a familiar chipping cup with little moths painted on it in gold. Hot steam spilled from the lip of the mug and swirled up to tickle Sable’s nose, emanating a sweet, herbal aroma. Memories of past sick days flooded her mind along with an eruption of mushy gratitude. 
“A blend of lavender and chamomile, with a bit of honey,” Mikaela smiled softly and sat across the table from Sable, who was too awestruck to say anything. Her fingers tapped endlessly against the side of the cracking ceramic. 
A rare, tiny smile poked at the edges of her lips. 
“I– I don’t know what to say–” she fumbled with her hands, staring into the dark abyss swirling around inside the cup. “Thank you. So much, Mikaela…” her words faltered, becoming quiet and dreamy. She didn’t know how to articulate her feelings– of which there were many. Mikaela simply huffed out a small, doting laugh in response. 
“You’re welcome,” her lips settled over her teeth to form a smile that reached her eyes, and she gazed lovingly at Sable with one hand atop hers. 
Bliss. 
After a few, heavenly minutes of sipping and talking idly in the low light of the empty cafe, Mikaela looked at her watch and sighed. 
“We should probably get going, I was technically supposed to close half an hour ago,” 
Sable dejectedly gathered all of her things, bones the consistency of a smooth jello– her mind had grown tired hours earlier, but now her body was finally catching up– and walked out into the frigid night with Mikaela’s gloved hand in hers. The snow hit their faces like small specks of cold ash and had dusted nearly every rooftop with candy-like mounds of powdered sugar. The wind carried itself through the barren trees, causing the branches to crack against each other like a rumble of soft, mute thunder that filled Sable’s heart with joy. 
“My place?” Mikaela asked, breaking the icy silence. 
“Please.” 
They sighed simultaneously as they found refuge from the cold in Mikaela’s pale green beetle, cheeks still red from the frosty chill. Pearlescent crystals jingled from a gold chain wrapped around the rearview mirror and shook as Mikaela put the vehicle into drive, pulling out of the snow-dusted parking lot and onto the slush-filled roads of night. 
In Sable’s bleary eyes, the headlights looked like thick strokes of paint among a mosaic of red, yellow, and green reflections. The colours blurred together into a beautifully dark painting that made her feel right at home. She dreamily imagined what creatures may be lurking in the trees as they passed jagged forests, and found solace in her imagination with her head slumped against the cold window. Dreaming. She could picture spindly limbs peering out from a fallen oak, or a grotesque anomaly beckoning an unsuspecting hitchhiker to come closer. Children’s laughter echoing from a forgotten cabin. Maybe even a witch would flourish past the full moon on her broomstick. That thought made her laugh inwardly. 
She smiled when she felt Mikaela gently place a hand on her thigh. 
“What’re you thinking about?” she whispered as they stopped at the lights. Sable blushed a bit, still staring out at the woods. 
“Ghosts and supernatural phenomena.” 
“See anything?” 
“Not yet,” 
Mikaela laughed sweetly. “Keep me posted.” 
Bright street lights interrupted Sable’s daydreaming when Mikaela pulled into her apartment complex’s parking lot and parked the car. Squinting, she shuffled back outside and felt relieved when Mikaela waited patiently for her to tiredly stumble up the frozen sidewalk and into the lobby, never dropping her hand for a second. 
Her apartment was warm and familiar, lit by soft amber light bulbs and mismatched lamps with stained glass shades. Tapestries hung from the ceiling, blessed with sigils and depictions of the moon, effervescent and feminine in her wake. The walls were painted rich plum, and most of the surfaces such as the towering, full bookshelves, were deep, glossed brown and carved out of wood. Green plants spilled from gold planters on the shelves, brightening up the space and giving it an earthy aroma that reminded Sable of an enchanted forest. A large CRT television sat atop the console, stacked VHS tapes intertwined with clusters of crystals resting next to it. 
Sable shuffled off her shoes– worn black canvas sneakers with miscellaneous doodles all over them– and sat down on the purple velvet sofa with a huff. Curled herself up in between the side table and oriental pillows and closed her eyes as Mikaela flitted around absently. Sable identified the comforting sounds of her hanging her coat on the rack and pouring three drops of oil into the diffuser. 
At the click of a button, the soft scent of lavender filled the room, accompanied by the gentle raindrop-esque sounds of mist funnelling from the diffuser. Sable felt her head loll to the side, ready to drift off right there, and groaned playfully when Mikaela motioned for her to get off the couch. Off to bed with you, her eyes seemed to say. 
Sable collected a few personal belongings she had left for nights like this from one of the drawers in Mikaela’s plant-covered dresser and got the shower running. She scrubbed the lingering taste of coffee from her mouth with minty toothpaste and revelled in the feeling of relaxation that settled deep in her bones as she glided under the warm water. Taking a moment to take care of herself, she lathered her whole body with one of Mikaela’s homemade soaps and luscious store-bought vanilla body wash– she’d have to buy more for Mikaela later as a thank you– and wove thick globs of matching shampoo into her hair. 
When she stepped out of the shower, she felt renewed, fresh. Like she had put on a new set of skin. Dressing herself in silken, moon-spotted pyjamas, she wondered when the last time she had felt like this was and frowned when she couldn’t come up with a memory. The girl that was reflected in the foggy mirror was one she hadn’t seen for a long time. It felt strange, yet good, to see her again. 
But also, she didn’t want to stare too long. Her hours of work were catching up, and quick. 
Mikaela was lounging, expectant, on her bed. She smiled, and sat her book down on the nightstand, letting her eyes travel over Sable, lingering for a little longer than she should have before finally meeting her eyes. Sable closed the distance, now heat-stricken and suddenly wishing more than ever to be asleep, by collapsing into her arms. Mikaela placed a tentative hand on her back, folding the soft material of Sable’s shirt over with her fingers and admiring the fragrance of her freshly washed hair. 
“I won’t take long,” she pulled back, skimming her fingers along the little v of exposed skin by Sable’s chest, letting her thumb find respite along the shirt’s first button. 
Sable exhaled softly, wandering into the depths of Mikaela’s eyes and wanting more than anything to stay, locked in her embrace forever. Something like desire poured from her heart into the room as mist, rolling around the atmosphere like sugary pink perfume, pulling her closer. The soft amber glow from the ajar bathroom door silhouetted her orange curls in an angelic halo of light, mesmerizing and encapsulating as a forgotten Goddess. Sable wrapped her finger around an errant curl, feeling their heartbeats synchronize like ocean waves as they pressed their foreheads together. Cars whistled past, but they were only murmurs in the background. Inconsequential. 
“Okay,” she mumbled, reluctantly parting. 
“I’ll be right back,” Mikaela responded, gently kissing Sable’s forehead before picking up her change of clothes and closing the bathroom door. An electric toothbrush powered on, and the water resumed. 
Sable slumped down against the cushiony bed, staring out the window at the luminous moon, milky white like a dollop of whipped cream amidst the mauve winter sky. Clouds shuffled past, stars twinkled if she squinted. She looked at the moon again, settled right in her line of sight. Staring. Watching. Full. Something wasn’t right. 
She lifted her hand and held it up to the window longingly as if maybe she could find the impossible answer to her question that way. Her skin glinted in the moonlight, and her eyes, heavy-lidded, sparkled with a feeling like home. The moon, stood, effervescent, and echoed a soft glow. Warmth washed over her, a celestial kind of touch. 
She bathed, atop the covers, drinking in the pale moonlight. Thinking, waiting, breathing. Ruminating over her life and finding comfort in the fact that she didn’t feel compelled to think too hard. 
She was too relaxed. 
A smile played on her lips, slightly awestruck in its wake. 
The bathroom door clicked, and Mikaela emerged from the now-dark room. She looked like she was about to say something, but Sable didn’t notice. She was still staring out the window. 
“What phase is the moon supposed to be in today?” she lolled her head toward Mikaela, who stood, confused, near her dresser as she buttoned up her pyjama top. 
“Waning gibbous,” 
“It’s full.” 
Mikaela hummed and settled herself next to Sable on the bed, twirling a lock of fading purple hair around her index finger as she, too, locked eyes with the moon. Similarly awestruck. “That’s sweet,” she said slowly before guiding Sable’s eyes back to hers with a gentle flourish. “She’s trying to help you.” 
Ribbons of light from passing cars flickered along the poster-covered blue walls as they shuffled under the covers, Sable curling herself up against Mikaela’s breastbone and Mikaela caressing Sable’s back through her silk top. The symphony of tires gliding over the falling snow and wind carefully being carried through barren trees ebbed and flowed along with their heartbeats, lulling the city around them into a gentle hush that could be forgotten among the sanctity of touch. 
Vanilla and Lavender danced in the night and settled, slowly, but wholly, around Sable’s shoulders as she mumbled against Mikaela’s freckled chest, a small but tender “Thank you.” 
Mikaela kissed the top of her head sweetly, in promise. Uncharacteristic tears pin-pricked at Sable’s weary eyes, drifting slowly away. 
“It’s okay, you can rest now.” 
Dec 23, 2010
xMoonlitSablex: Hey, going to take a small hiatus from ATWTN for the next couple of weeks. You’ll probably find me skulking around the graveyard :p Xoxo, Sable
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_mikaelareid_: <3
Supersusie99: did u see the new marble hornets entry? Slender acc shows up ROFL 
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non4ry · 11 months ago
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bro did you seriously just talk during slam poetry night
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riverrunscold · 8 months ago
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Had to do DBD, and day 15: horror/dark was perfect for that! Love Sable and Mikaela so, of course, I had to write for them.
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tomuratta · 3 months ago
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the differences pale when compared
Fandom: Dead by Daylight Relationships: Mikaela Reid/Mikaela Reid, Mikaela Reid/Sable Ward For Kinktober Day 1: Selfcest Word count: 469 Warnings: Referenced self-harm AO3
You slide a hand up her leggings and feel her soft thigh.
It's weird, to see your own face reflected back at you.
Two fingers against her core, and she gasps softly. It's hard to look away from her face, her heavily lidded eyes. Is this why people have sex in front of mirrors?
When you met, she asked how Sable was. With anyone else, you would have been taken aback. With her — with you — you know why.
She pushes her panties and leggings down smoothly. You stare. You've never seen your body from this angle before.
The scars on her thighs are barely visible. You remember how scared you used to be, that someone would realize they were there.
Her warm touch tears your eyes away. She takes your hand in hers, guiding it lower. She nestles your fingers in the dense curls of her red pubic hair.
You move them deeper, dip them just barely inside her hole. She's already wet.
Does she do this often? Fuck alternate versions of herself?
You don't think about the way your own body burns.
She bucks up against your hand, and you oblige, rubbing the heel against her clit and slipping your fingers deeper inside of her.
She moans, loud this time.
God. Is that what you sound like?
For a second you wonder — what would Sable sound like? Then you force the thought from your mind.
When you move your fingers, she gasps and keens. Her hand falls loosely from yours as you set a rhythm, in and out and in and out.
You shift your legs, a tiny search for friction. Touching yourself feels bizarrely shameful, and you put your free hand on her waist.
Your face is reflected in her glasses, high points of red on your cheeks.
You curl your fingers the way you used to do inside yourself at home, and she calls you good and perfect.
It feels good, to make her feel good.
You make yourself focus on her, her soft heat, the part inside of her that always makes you see stars. You're glad you keep your nails short.
She comes, loud and joyful. You force yourself to not imagine Sable in her place.
She is boneless and panting underneath you. Pride rises, faint and strange, in your chest.
"Great job," she says, like she knows how inexperienced you are. She must know; she's you, after all.
You imagine asking her about Sable, about what you should do. She seems so much more confident than you. But when you open your mouth, the words weigh down your tongue.
She sits up, satisfaction across her face. Her skin is glistening with sweat. Your fingers slide out of her still-wet hole.
She gives you a little smile, secretive and knowing.
"Good luck with her."
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dahlialyra · 10 months ago
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Rose complimented Unknown's bows while giving her water. Haddie wants to finish her chai but also leave the area. Jiwon is admiring Renato's long hair. Bonus Mikable as a treat (they've been like that for days)
the late night motivation really ran out after colouring, so I doodled my recent fave ships in the background instead of what I originally wanted 🙃
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mikableiluminacion · 4 years ago
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¡No te quedes sin tus luces navideñas! Tenemos gran variedad a precios accesibles. Hacemos entregas a domicilio, puntos medios según la zona. Pagos contra entrega y transferencia. #navidad #luces #iluminacion #merrychristmas #mikable.mx #tradiciones #series #cascada #lucesnavideñas https://www.instagram.com/p/CIR6Pf2FwUN/?igshid=1fng2y9kljn46
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