Tumgik
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
April on IG
2K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
Rock, Paper, Scissors, Alice Feeney
1K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
42K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the dreamy bathroom parlor of the LA Theatre. IG
2K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
53K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media
From left to right: Frances Jimenez, Delores Browne, and Alice Mayes as students at the Judimar School of Dance.
7K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 24 days
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PEAKY BLINDERS series 6 official trailer
394 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 24 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Duygu Ay Rose corset set ♡
45 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 24 days
Text
“Tea in the Cotswolds” Michael Gray x Reader
Michael Gray x Reader
When Thomas has business with Archibald Wentworth, a prestigious delegate in the Cotswolds, Michael is tasked with occupying the man’s adult daughter - getting more acquainted than expected.
Tumblr media
The Blinders had expanded their business - all the way to the Cotswolds, Tommy had taken John and Michael for the ride; leaving Arthur back in Birmingham as he didn’t find this the right environment for any sort of negative articulation to be breaking out; especially at Wentworth Family Manor.
The houses became progressively larger as the carriage rolled down the cobbled street, some with drives too large to be able to see the house it belonged to at all. But eventually, the vehicle came to a stop at the looming house; substantially larger than all others. In his head, the only similar build Michael had seen to this was Buckingham Palace - large and awe-inspiring enough to be the encasings to a proud museum, contents sacred and protected.
But potentially Michael’s imagination wasn’t too far from reality.
“Right,” Tommy began, eyes flicking between the two men whom had accompanied him. “Today is a very important meeting. And i need to leave a good impression on the Wentworth’s. So we leave our egos and our guns in the car.” John’s brows creased in confusion. “Leave our guns?” “They’re not dangerous. This is legal business; real estate - dabbling a bit in the illegal side of things but not enough go start a fight. Mr Wentworth is an extremely prestigious man, as is his wife and daughter.” He told them calmly. “I’ll talk with Mr Wentworth, John you’ll talk with his missus and explain what we do: nicely. Michael - I’ll leave you to get acquainted with his daughter, yn.” “You’re leaving me with the child?” He asked, confused. “Yn is twenty.”
They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
112 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this was incredibly unhinged of John and I've been thinking about it for three days
248 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
801 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Text
LAVENDER BROWN DESERVED BETTER!!
110 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
55K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I need a scientific explanation on how ONE CAN LOOK SO GOOD after running his fingers through his wet hair
creds to: @unicornspwnall
6K notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Text
This story ate down
The Aristocrat-Michael Gray Imagine
Requested: Yes
Warnings: none just fluff
Tumblr media
  “Never thought that I’d be givin’ a speech at Michael’s weddin’ nor did I think that he’d convince a girl as lovely as Y/N to marry ‘im,” Tommy began.
   All the guests in the reception hall of the castle chuckled, including the bride. Y/N covered her mouth with her hand daintily, as she had been trained her entire life to do. Michael, on the other hand, rolled his eyes but smirked at the best man.
   “But to be serious, none of us could be happier for Michael and Y/N. She’s made him into a better man—-to be stronger and more thoughtful. Many men think that once they get married their lives are over and they’re tied down. That’s not the case; if it’s the right person, then life is just beginning.” Tommy lifted his champagne glass in Michael and Y/N’s direction. “With that being said, a toast to the happy couple.”
   The expensive champagne only added to Y/N’s elatedness. Surpisingly, she hadn’t had any second thoughts or wedding day jitters as her mother claimed she would. Y/N was positive of only a few things: Pablo Picasso was a genius, white is only appropriate in the summertime outside of weddings, and she was terribly in love with Michael Gray. For the past twenty four years, Y/N had no idea that she was capable of loving someone so much—-the closest she ever came was for her two dogs. But Michael was different, sweet but tough and one of the smartest people Y/N had the pleasure of meeting. 
   “How much longer do we have here?” Michael asked as he kissed Y/N’s cheek.
  “What? You don’t like having our families fawn over us for four hours?” Y/N teased.
   After Y/N accepted Michael’s proposal, she warned him about how elaborate aristocratic events were, especially weddings. She’d had to convince her mom not to do a four day affair but rather three. There were several hundred guests in attendance, including several members of Parliament and different European monarchs, and they all had to be impressed. There were centerpieces consisting of blush roses and geraniums set on every guest’s table at the reception. Crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, casting a beautiful golden light over the guests. The food was the most decadent in all of England: a choice of lamb chops, lobster and potatoes, filet mignon and asparagus and creme brulee or chocolate mousse for dessert if they didn’t want any of the y/f/c cake. The wedding was going to be the event of the season.
   “I would get more food, but I’m stuffed,” Irene, Y/N’s best friend and maid of honor, whispered as she leaned towards Y/N.
   “I told you that no one would leave this affair hungry,” Y/N muttered back. 
   Irene and Y/N had known each other practically their whole lives. Irene’s mother had been Y/N’s French tutor and often Irene would come to the humble castle that Y/N called home and they would practice French together. Two years ago, Irene left Lancaster to go to Birmingham for work even though Y/N insisted that she could get her friend a job. But Irene also longed to get out of Lancaster and see what else England had to offer. Y/N was incredibly comfortable in Lancaster, seeing as she was the baroness of it, and never felt the need to leave it. Sure, she’d traveled to Paris, Nice, Milan, Dublin, London, and Glasgow but those were always short term visits she made with her parents. For months, Y/N and Irene wrote each other until Irene convinced Y/N to visit her that past summer. Y/N’s mother frowned upon Small Heath as soon as Y/N told her about her wish to visit Irene. However, Y/N managed to convince her that nothing grand would happen if she visited her friend.
   How wrong she was. 
  Y/N met Michael on her first night in Small Heath. Irene worked as a secretary for Thomas Shelby and insisted that they go to the Garrison. 
  “It’ll be a right laugh, Y/N, I promise!” Irene had pleaded.
  She had been wearing a sapphire blue flapper dress, light stockings, and shiny silver heels. A feathered headband was in her bobbed hair and she had a pleading look in her eyes.
  “If it’s cleaner than the rest of this town, I suppose it is alright.”   Y/N couldn’t help but be curious about pubs seeing as she’d never been in one. Her mother always told her that pubs were for “randy men and prostitutes”. Well, Irene was hardly a prostitute and she seemed to enjoy the Garrison. It was a bit exciting to be rebellious since Y/N had always been a stickler for rules and being proper in any situation.
   Minutes later, Y/N was walking down the street with Irene, wearing a beaded silver dress with matching heels. The streets smelled like rubbish and tobacco and a few men yelled unsavory things at them that made Y/N blush.
   “Goodness!” Y/N muttered to Irene.
   “What, you’ve never been cat called before, Your Highness?” Irene teased. 
   “No, can’t say that I have.” Y/N paused. “Peasant.”
   Irene gasped and playfully smacked Y/N’s arm. “I am by no means a peasant, Mi’lady.”
   “Then stop calling me by these titles, I’m just Y/N tonight.”
   “Very well then. You should know something about the Shelbys as well as the other men who are going to be in this bar.”
   “They’ll be several sheets to the wind, I know.” 
   “It’s not that, I never exactly told you what they do.”
   “They don’t just keep books and run factories, then?” 
   Irene shook her head and they slowed their pace to the Garrison. “They do, but that’s only for show. The Shelbys are involved in transporting alcohol to America and other illegal activity.”
   Y/N nodded as the realization dawned on her. “You work for gangsters. How long have you known?”
   “A little over a year now,” Irene said. “I overheard one of the meetings Tommy was having with this big Jewish fellow and there was talk of guns and men. It wasn’t hard after that.”
  Y/N nodded again. “Thank you for tellin’ me.”
 “Do you still want to go because we can go to a different pub.”
  “Nonsense,” Y/N said with a smile, “I’ve never been around gangsters before.”
  Her father always said that Y/N’s curiosity would kill her one day and Irene always agreed with the sentiment. While Irene was fine with change for logical reasons, Y/N had a tendency of pushing the envelope whether it be finding out how long she could stand on a horse’s back while it trotted or getting too close to a tiger. On the other hand, it was this curiosity that led her to meet Michael.
   Almost as soon as they walked into the pub, Y/N was suffocated by tobacco smoke and the smell of whiskey. The music was loud and only a few flappers were dancing with the men in suits. It was a whole new world to Y/N and she was more than happy to observe it. Irene pulled Y/N to the bar and ordered something, but Y/N couldn’t hear it. She sat down on the stool next to Irene and fidgeted with her pretty clutch.
   “Oi, their drinks are on me,” Michael had said from behind her.
   Irene had rolled her eyes. “Michael actin’ like a proper gent, what a surprise?” 
   Y/N had laughed before turning around. When she saw Michael, she stopped laughing and straightened up. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a red handkerchief in the pocket. His light eyes were trained on her and he had an easy smile on his face. 
   “And who is this?” Michael had asked.
   “Y/N, I’m a friend on Irene’s.” She held her hand out daintily towards him.
   Michael grasped it and gently kissed the knuckles, making little electric shocks run up and down Y/N’s arm. She smiled at him as he let her pull away. “Pleasure to meet you.”
   “Irene has friends?” A tall black boy sidled next to Irene with the biggest smirk on his face.  
  “Oh, sod off, Isaiah!” Irene had hissed.
  The bartender handed Irene two whiskeys and she handed one to Y/N, who stared at it in confusion.
  “Never had whiskey before?” Michael had asked.
  “No, closest I’ve had to it is scotch, I suppose,” Y/N said.
  “Posh,” he’d said.
  Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?” 
  “Not at all.”
   The whiskey burned down Y/N’s throat but she did her best not to cough in front of Michael. They wound up talking the whole night and dancing to several songs. She learned quickly that he, Isaiah, and Irene worked together but Michael had a higher ranking position than Irene and Isaiah did. If Michael was a gangster, he certainly didn’t act like it that first night. He behaved like a complete gentlemen but there was certain toughness to him that Y/N guessed he would need if he was a gangster.
   That night, Michael walked Y/N home since Irene had disappeared with Isaiah. The streets were practically deserted but there was still some noise here and there.
   “I can’t believe you’ve never been to a pub before,” Michael had said.
   “Never got the chance to back home, had other things to concern myself with.”
   “Where are you from?”
   “Lancaster.”
   Michael whistled. “Very posh. Thought Irene was a bit posh when we first met but Birmingham’s changed her a bit.”
  “Yes, definitely. Then again, she never had to be as proper as me.”
  “Why’s that?”
  Y/N hesitated. “Because I’m a lady.”
  “A proper one?”
  “Yes, baroness of Lancaster. I hope this doesn’t change what you think of me.”
  “No, not at all, but I would’ve guessed you were a princess.”
  “Stop.” Y/N grinned and squeezed his arm.
  “I suppose since we’re being honest with each other, I should tell you what I actually do for the company,” Michael said.
  “There’s no need, Irene already told me.”
   Michael’s eyes widened. “Wouldn’t your family frown upon you getting involved with someone like me?”
   “I didn’t know I was getting involved with someone like you.” 
   “Well, you would be if you accepted my invitation to tea.”
   He was so confident that it was almost sickening and Y/N liked that about him. She accepted his invitation and tea turned into drinks which then turned into the pictures and eventually, Michael asked Y/N to properly meet his family.
  “Mum’s been talkin’ my ear off about meetin’ ya,” Michael had said as they walked together once.
  “I must say I would love to meet her and the rest of your family.”
  Michael had told the family of Y/N’s aristocratic background and they were on their best behavior, mostly. Polly had made up everything nice at her house and made tea. Everyone was so lovely that Y/N couldn’t believe that they were gangsters. Tommy and Arthur, Y/N could believe, but not the rest. Perhaps all criminals weren’t as bad as the papers made them out to be.
  That summer went by quickly and Y/N was almost depressed when she had to go home. She never felt so bad about going back to Lancaster but it hurt that she couldn’t take Michael back with her.
  “You sure you can’t stay here?” Michael had asked at the train station.
  “I’m positive. My duties as a baroness have been on hold for far too long,” she’d said with a sad smile. “I’m going to miss you terribly.”
  “I’ll miss you as well.”
  Michael hugged her tightly and Y/N could feel hot tears of sadness burning in her eyes. She wished she could take Michael with her but he had his own business to take care of.
  She pulled away and delicately kissed him, only to have him hold her face and intensify it. Once he let her go, she looked down in bashfulness.
  “We shouldn’t be doing that in public, it’s not proper.”
  “Whoever doesn’t like this can sod off,” Michael said. He grabbed her hands and made her look at him. “Marry me.”
  “What?”
  “I wanted it to be more proper and I had a ring in mind, but I can’t wait any longer. I love you more than I thought I could love anyone else. If I didn’t ask you now, some fancy bloke would have stolen you from me.”
  Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that spread on her mouth. “I love you too, Michael. No one could steal me away from you. I’d love to marry you.”
   Now, Y/N’s parents were beaming at the fact that Y/N had married a respectable young businessman. Michael and Tommy did a great job in helping Y/N convince her parents that the Shelby Company Limited was a legitimate legal business. Her parents knew that the Shelbys were once gypsies but they covered that up quickly once they realized that Y/N was much too in love to care about that kind of thing.
   The only person who was as happy as Y/N’s parents was Polly. She treated Y/N like another daughter and made sure that she was alright throughout the whole day. Polly even went as far as to sneak into Y/N dressing room before the wedding to tell her that she was the best thing that Polly could have asked for her son. It was sweet and nearly made Y/N cry off all her makeup, but Polly managed to calm her down before she had to walk down the aisle.
   After another hour of drunken speeches, dancing, and titilating conversation, Y/N and Michael were seen off to their honeymoon. Y/N kissed Irene’s cheek and hugged her tight while Michael accepted even more congratulations from his cousins and family. 
   When they got in the car and started driving off, Y/N sighed. It felt like a huge weight was off her shoulders. 
   “We did it, we’re married,” Y/N said.
   “Yeah, and I’ve finally got you all to myself.” Michael grabbed Y/N’s face and kissed her.
    She smiled as she let herself melt against Michael’s strong body. They hadn’t been able to be really affectionate with each other for the past three days since it was inappropriate to do such things in front of an audience. All that pent up energy was presenting itself as Michael pressed Y/N against the door of the car, kissing her and allowing his hands to roam her body.
   “Michael,” she muttered as one of his hands began to trail up her leg. “The driver.”
   “He has to keep his eyes on the road,” Michael said before descending onto Y/N’s neck.
   Y/N bit in a moan and pressed her hands against his chest. “We’ll be on the train soon enough.”    Michael groaned and pulled away reluctantly. “Why do you have to torture me?”
   “Good things come to those who wait, dear.” 
   And they did, several times in their suite in Florence and many more times when they got back to their place in London. The first few months of marriage were complete bliss: Michael would surprise Y/N with flowers, Y/N cooked for Michael, and they couldn’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. It was everything anyone wants in a marriage. 
   However, the blissfulness stopped when Y/N received a letter from her mother one evening.
  “What’s it say?” Michael asked. 
   Y/N sighed. “My Uncle Edward has died of cardiac issues.”   “I’m sorry,” Michael said. 
   Y/N’s eyes scanned the page. “And my father is being named earl because my uncle had no children.”    “What does that make you?”
   Y/N set the paper down on the table. “Our proper titles are duke and duchess, but I will be a lady.” 
   “And what does that make me? A duke?”
   “Yes, but everyone will refer to you by ‘Your Grace’.”
   Michael raised an eyebrow. “I thought that the titles went lower when you marry a commoner.”
  “It is not a grand issue seeing that I was a baroness.” Y/N grinned at Michael. “Congratulations, Michael, you are officially a part of the British monarchy.”
  They had to go to Lancaster for the funeral and for Y/N’s father’s instatement as Earl of Lancaster and her mother’s instatement of Countess of Lancaster. Y/N and Michael were formally made Duke and Duchess of Lancaster as well. 
  When Michael returned to work the following day, he didn’t hear the end of it.
  “Can I get you some tea, Your Grace?” Lizzie asked with a snicker.
  “No thanks, ‘m fine,” Michael griped as he tried to go over the papers in his grasp. 
   “Stop botherin’ His Grace, Lizzie, he’s got important work to do!” John teased as he leaned against the doorway. 
   They both shared a laugh as Michael silently cursed them in his mind. 
   “I wouldn’t keep that up if I were you,” Tommy said as he passed them. “He technically has the authority to have you all hung.”
   “He wouldn’t do that though, would you, Michael?” John asked.
   Michael shrugged. “I’d be less inclined if you lot let me do my work.”
   John and Lizzie went off to do their respective jobs and Michael grinned to himself. Being a duke was going to be a lot of fun. 
224 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
32 notes · View notes
princess-kaija · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Strawbebby.
15K notes · View notes