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#listen y'all i come to tumblr to not know fucking anyone
fallintosanity · 2 years
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psst, let me tell you a secret
are you listening? 
ready? 
Tumblr Blaze is the biggest fuck-you to Facebook, Twitter, Google, Amazon, and other advertising companies in basically ever
wanna know why? 
On Facebook, I could show this post only to white, politically undecided, lesbian college students aged 18-21 who live in zip codes 75023, 75024, and 75025 (yes, even after the changes Facebook recently announced). Anyone who interacts with the post, therefore, is extremely likely to be a white, politically undecided, lesbian college student aged 18-21 who lives in Plano, Texas. If this post was an ad, and you clicked the ad and bought the thing it was advertising, then I’d also know your name, physical address, telephone number, email address, and approximate financial status. 
You probably don’t want me to know all that about you, right? 
Do you want your health insurer to know? What about your employer? If you’re queer and not out to your family and friends, would you want them to know? What if you’re a domestic violence survivor, hiding from your ex-spouse?
All they need to do to get all that information is buy a Facebook ad for under $5.
And before you say that you don’t share all that on Facebook: too bad! Even if you don’t, Facebook (along with pretty much every ad company out there) buys, sells, and/or trades the data it collects about you with other companies. Facebook collects data about you even if you don’t have a Facebook account.
Wanna know what’s scarier? 
Bad guys can also buy targeted ads, and use them to convince you to do things like vote for a particular presidential candidate, or vote against unionizing Amazon workers. This is a very common tactic used by hostile foreign governments to foster extremism and isolate vulnerable minorities, and influence elections and other political and social events. Even the tech companies themselves can and do use this data to manipulate your emotions, making you happier or sadder according to their own whims.
(why do you know all this, Sanity? because I’ve worked in information security, fighting for data privacy and security, for over a decade)
Facebook, Google, Twitter, Amazon, and other advertisers claim that collecting all that data about you, and letting anyone target you with it, is absolutely, 100% necessary for the existence of the entire ad-funded Internet. They want you to believe that nothing bad could possibly come of it, despite proof to the contrary being in the news every other month. They want you to blindly continue letting them collect and use YOUR data to influence you to think, feel, and do what THEY want. 
But. 
BUT!!!
Enter Tumblr Blaze. 
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(from the Blaze FAQ)
Tumblr looked at advertising and said, you know what? we don’t need to target anyone. Targeted ads don’t actually work anyway. All that hyper-specific targeting is just an excuse for ad companies to raise prices and collect more data to use for their own purposes. 
Tumblr said, we bet people will pay real-life dollars to share their posts with up to 50,000 people, whether or not those people will care. 
Tumblr said, we’re going to blow up the entire online advertising industry.
That is fucking amazing, y'all.
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enditen · 9 months
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birds of a feather
summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.
word count: 4090ish.
rating: m
warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.
pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )
author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader
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You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.

“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.
“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”

“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”

The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.
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It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.

He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.

Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 

“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 

“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”
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You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.

That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.

"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.

Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.

"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."

"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."

Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.

"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "

A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"

You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.

"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."

"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."

The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."

If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."

You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."
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Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.

This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.

It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.

You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.

His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.

Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.

"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."

Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.

"I—" He starts before you shake your head.

"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.

"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."

You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"

You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"

A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."

His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"

You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"

His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.
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The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.

"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."

"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.

"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."

"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"

"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"

"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"

"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"

"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."

A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."

You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"

A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.

He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.

"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.

A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"

"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."

You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."

What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.

You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.

"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.

You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."

He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."

You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."

"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."
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justagalwhowrites · 7 months
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New in Town - Ch. 2: First Date
Joel takes you on an actual date. A continuation of New in Town Ch. 1 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader
CW:  Smut. Just... all the smut, OK? They fuck. They're fans of that. It's why we love them. Mild violence. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only
Length: 7.9k
AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: Hi all!
So yeah, this was originally intended as a one shot but here's the thing... people really liked it? I got a lot of requests for more on Tumblr so y'all are getting more :)
This will be a relatively short series but a series none the less. I hope you enjoy it!
You didn’t have a great reason to be nervous. You felt pretty stupid for feeling nervous, in all honesty, but your stomach was in knots all the same. 
You were going on a date. A first date. 
A first date with Joel.
Your best friend’s dad. 
Who, it seemed, had done nothing but fuck you senseless in the two weeks since you’d met the man. 
And that’s all it had been. Fucking. Just ridiculous amounts of fucking. Like it was a miracle that you could walk amounts of fucking. 
Not for lack of trying to do other things. Joel had come back the next day with the intent of actually fixing your sink. Which, he did. And then he fucked you on your couch. 
You invited him over for dinner to say thank you for fixing the sink but the steaks sat out on your counter while the two of you ripped each other’s clothes off. You’d gone to his house to watch The Room and you’d made it all of five minutes into the movie before the two of you were naked on his living room floor, his cock stretching you open and making you gasp as he filled you. 
Finally, he came to your apartment to pick you up to go for drinks and to listen to live music. You opened the door in the short, tight dress you’d picked for going to bars and he damn near growled before he grabbed you and kissed you. You pulled him into your apartment and, before you knew it, you were naked and entwined on your bed. 
“Next time, I’m not bein’ a gentleman and comin’ to your door,” he said, panting for breath, your leg still over his hip. “You’re meetin’ me at the damn car. Only way we’re gettin’ out of the damn house is if we make it so I can’t just take your clothes off.” 
He was picking you up in five minutes and you’d realized that, since you’d started fucking Joel, you’d hardly spoken to the man. Your mouth was usually otherwise occupied. And so was his, for that matter. Because fuck, that man could do amazing things with his mouth. 
So you were nervous. Butterflies in your stomach, pacing your living room, checking your phone every 15 seconds nervous. 
Because what if he didn’t like you once he actually talked to you again? Once you were in a place where you couldn’t just get naked and you had to rely on conversation to keep him interested, would he still be interested? 
Sure, the night you’d met had felt… Well, unlike anything you’d ever experienced, really. If you had, you wouldn’t be single that was for damn sure. You’d never been able to just talk with someone the way you could with Joel. It had been electric. He was so smart and funny and kind. 
The thing that stood out to you most was that he noticed things about people. In a way men - especially men who were the strong, physical type - didn’t really seem to. He was worried about one of the guys on his team at work who’d been having problems at home. He’d noticed that the guy wasn’t laughing the same way he usually did at the joker on the crew. 
“I’m so bad at that shit,” he’d taken a sip of beer, shaking his head. “Not like I can talk anyone through marriage troubles. Kid troubles, maybe. But these guys never want to talk about their shit, you know? So busy tryin’ to handle it themselves they fuck their lives up.” 
And you’d had so damn much in common. The love for terrible movies and rock music and spicy food. You could have talked to him all night. 
You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way. 
Your phone dinged in your hand. Because you were so nervous and excited you’d actually taken it off silent for the first time since you’d had the thing. 
“Here,” he texted. He was two minutes early. You smiled.
Another ding. 
“Very weird not coming to your door. Not a fan.” 
You texted back. 
“Me either. See you in a sec!” 
Joel had planned the whole day, only telling you enough that you knew what to wear and what to bring. Which apparently required a change of clothes. 
“Promise you can get changed somewhere I can’t just jump you,” he’d texted. “Going to do my best to keep my hands to myself.” 
“That’s a damn shame,” you’d texted back. “I like when you don’t keep your hands to yourself.” 
“Fine woman,” he’d replied. “I’ll keep them to myself until the end of the date. Would like to actually get you out in the world at some point. Sound fair?” 
“That’s better,” you smiled as you typed it out.
“You drive a hard bargain,” he replied. 
“Not the only hard thing I’m interested in.” You’d added a winking emoji to that one. 
He texted back immediately. 
“Dangerous for me to be distracted by you with hard things while I’m at work so I’m going to stop this before I hurt myself… See you in the morning.” 
He’d told you that you needed good walking shoes and something you’d be comfortable moving in for the morning and something that made you feel good for the afternoon and evening. You tried to be smart about it, picking hiking boots with jeans and a t-shirt for the morning and just changing the shoes and the shirt for the rest of the day. Like maybe if you kept your pants on it would keep you from jumping into bed with Joel. 
At least right away. 
“See, this is why I can’t come get you at your door,” he shook his head as you climbed in the passenger seat of his truck. He was half smiling, his head propped against his hand and you had to fight the urge to kiss his damn dimple. 
“Oh really?” You asked, brows raised, as you buckled up. “Why’s that?” 
“You got no business looking that damn good in jeans,” he said. “Couldn’t risk getting you behind closed doors right now, we wouldn’t get anywhere.” 
You rolled your eyes and smiled, shaking your head. 
“You’re insatiable.” 
“Just with you,” he winked. 
Joel took you to a park in town, grabbing a pack out of the back seat of the truck and leading the way to a trail. 
“Said you liked hiking,” he said. “Figured this way you’d have a place you’d know if you wanted to come back. But only if you want.” 
He was watching you like he was waiting for you to reject the idea but you just smiled. 
“This is perfect hiking weather,” you said, starting on the trail before looking over your shoulder back at him. “You coming?” 
“Lead the way, Beautiful,” he smiled. “I’m just enjoying the view.” 
The trail was a loop that went out to a lake with a nice overlook. On the way out to it, you told Joel about camping with your Girl Scout troop as a child, how you’d found a sense of peace in nature ever since. Joel told you about camping with his brother, Tommy, as a kid and taking Sarah when she was little. 
The trail was quiet - almost shockingly so considering the weather - and the overlook was empty when you got there. Joel picked a spot and sat down, opening his pack and pulling out a few paper bags, bottles of water and bottles of iced coffee. 
“Not sure if you’ve come across these yet,” he handed you a bag. “They’re kolaches, these Czech pastry things. Don’t ask me why they’re popular here, couldn’t fuckin’ tell you, but they’re damn good. I’ll trade you flavors if you want, wasn’t sure what you might like…” 
“I’m not picky and these look incredible,” you bit into one of the sausage ones. You were right, eyes rolling back in pleasure as you chewed. “Fuck, that’s good…” 
Joel smiled, looking a little proud. 
“Yeah, Sarah told me you’d be finding the best restaurants in town real quick so I only have a few weeks to impress you with shit like this,” he said, taking a bite of his own roll before he frowned a little. “Not weird if I talk about her, is it? I’ve never…” 
“Fucked one of your daughter’s friends?” You finished for him, smirking a little, when he went quiet for a moment. 
“I was gonna say dated one but,” he laughed. “Both are true. Generally don’t go for younger women. Believe it or not.” 
“It’s not weird if you talk about Sarah. Well, it kind of is, but it would be weirder if you didn’t. We both love her, just in different ways. Pretending she doesn’t exist is just… not the way to go. And I’m not that much younger,” you elbowed him lightly. “Besides… you’re kind of my exact type.” 
He looked surprised by that. 
“Really?” 
“Yup,” you smiled a little and opened the iced coffee, taking a drink. “If I redownloaded my dating apps I could show you my age range preferences and you are right in the sweet spot there, Miller.” 
He just looked at you for a second, a crooked smile on his lips. The damn dimple. 
“What?” You laughed, taking another drink of coffee. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“You deleted your dating apps?” 
You felt your eyes go slightly wide. You hadn’t meant to admit that. 
“OK let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, alright?” You winced. “This was going so well…” 
“Why would I pretend you didn’t say it?” He frowned a little. 
“Because it’s weird,” you looked back out at the lake, needing to look away from him for this conversation. “And I don’t want to put any pressure on you or anything, I really don’t want to make it weird. I just… I’m not trying to get you to be in a relationship or anything, I just didn’t really feel like trying to see anyone else after I met you so I deleted them and…” 
“I like it,” he cut you off. 
“Yeah?” You smiled a little. 
“Yeah.” He leaned in, smiling back. “I like it a lot.” 
He kissed you, soft and almost chaste at first, but that didn’t last long. One hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you close, the other to your waist, sliding down toward the hem of your shirt, seeking out your skin. You moaned into his mouth, a familiar needy ache settling inside you. His tongue dipped into you and you pressed closer to him, trying to put your body against his when someone cleared their throat from behind you. 
The two of you jumped apart and you looked back over your shoulder to see a man, a woman and two kids standing there, staring at you. You pressed your lips together and tried not to laugh out of the sheer embarrassment of it all, your face getting hot. 
“Morning,” Joel said, clearing his throat a bit. 
“C’mon kids,” the woman said, glaring at you. “Quick look at the water, then we keep moving…” 
You cleared your throat awkwardly and took a drink of your iced coffee while the family spent a minute at the overlook before the parents started herding their children away. 
“Mom, why are leaving so quick?” The little girl asked. 
“Because honey,” the woman glanced your way as they headed back down the trail. 
The second you couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore, the two of you burst out laughing, you grabbing Joel’s thigh to keep from falling over with it. 
“Oh my God!” You gasped for breath, almost crying laughing. “What the actual fuck is our problem? We’re adults! This isn’t what adults do!” 
“This is your fault!” He was trying to stop laughing and failing. Miserably. 
“My fault? How is it my fault!” 
“Those damn jeans,” he kissed the delicate skin behind your ear, making you laugh even harder. “How am I supposed to resist you when you’re lookin’ that good?” 
He kissed you again, making you moan for a moment before you pulled back from him. 
“I thought you were keeping your hands to yourself until the end of the day?” You nipped his lower lip. “It’s not even noon.” 
“Argh,” he groaned, his forehead falling to your shoulder. “You’re right Beautiful, I’ll behave. Or try to, feel like I should get at least some credit for makin’ it this long.” 
Joel made you drink an entire bottle of water before you left the lake (“Can’t have you runnin’ on just iced coffee and kolaches, we got three miles back to the truck…”) and he seemed to be OK letting the dating app comment lie. Which worked for you because you were vaguely horrified to actually have that discussion. 
Because you had deleted the apps. And you were really hoping you wouldn’t need to download them again. At least, not for a while. You were pretty sure that you were crazy about Joel. Like could fall head over heels for the guy in a way you hadn’t since you were 21 and a stupid college girl kind of crazy about Joel. 
But it was so early that it seemed immensely stupid to feel that way about the guy. Even though you felt like you’d known him for years, even though you thought about him all the damn time. You’d still only known him for two weeks. 
And if you wanted a relationship - an actual, honest to God relationship - you’d have to reckon with the fact that you’d met him through your best friend, his daughter. This was a conversation you’d need to wait to have, until you had some sense of certainty that what you were risking was worth that risk. There was no way you could actually be that certain after two weeks. Even if you felt like you might be. 
There was a small hitch in Joel’s plans for the day, though. The bathrooms at the trailhead were closed and he sighed. 
“I promise this ain’t a scheme to get you back to my place and out of your clothes,” he winced a little. 
“I can just change in the car,” you winked and patted his chest. His broad, strong chest. Goddammit. “Just keep your eyes on the road while I do.” 
You climbed in back and waited for Joel to start driving (“Not getting arrested for indecent exposure at the park because you just climb in the back seat to feel me up, Miller. Now drive.”) before you took your t-shirt off. You may have left your shirt off and only been in your black lace bra for longer than you really needed to, letting your hair down from its loose bun and touching up your makeup before pulling the black, deep v-neck silk top you’d grabbed for the evening from your bag. At a stop light, you felt eyes on you and you looked to the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Joel watching you before he quickly looked back at the road. You smirked, tugging the shirt over your head and climbing over the center console and into the passenger seat, kissing Joel on the cheek on the way. 
“Told you to keep your eyes on the road, Miller,” you smirked, leaning over the console to wipe your lipstick off his cheek with your thumb. 
“You try focusin’ on the road when there’s somethin’ as pretty as you in the car,” he smirked a little. That fucking dimple. “I’m doin’ a damn good job, all things considered. Seat belt.” 
You smiled and buckled up. 
“Whatever you say, Miller. Whatever you say.” 
***
Joel briefly considered making himself come in the restaurant bathroom. 
There was no way in hell he was making it to the end of this fucking date, he didn’t know what the fuck he’d been thinking, planning something that was a day long with you. A whole day where you’d be right next to him and he couldn’t properly touch you. That was a stupid thing to do. A damn stupid thing to do. 
Because holy shit you were pretty. So fucking pretty. And sexy. So goddamn sexy. So pretty and so sexy that looking at you - knowing just how damn good you felt, knowing he could just have you if you were in his bed or he was in yours - was torture. Fucking torture. 
He knew a whole day was a mistake the second he saw you. He should have known before that, too, but sometimes he was a fucking idiot. 
Like when he decided to fuck his daughter’s best friend to begin with. 
But you looked so damn good just in jeans and a t-shirt - v-neck deep enough that he could see the soft flesh of your breasts as you climbed into the truck - that someone ought to make it illegal. And then walking behind you when the trail narrowed, wanting nothing more than to grab handfuls of your ass and pull you against his aching cock so he could find some damn relief. 
As soon as the concept of a date came up though, Joel knew he’d need to start it in the morning, plan a whole day. He didn’t want to stay away from you all day just to only get you for a few hours in the evening, not if he could help it. 
And it’s not like he only wanted to fuck you. Not that he didn’t love fucking you. God himself could strike Joel down while he was inside you and he’d die a happy man but he wanted to spend some time actually talking with you. He wanted to know you - desperately, longingly wanted to know you - but doing that when you were there, perfect and tempting, was no easy thing. 
Even you changing out of hiking boots and into some cute, girlie shoe was somehow sexy. How was he supposed to keep it in his pants when you looked that damn good doing anything at all? 
“OK we can’t both get the ghost pepper wings,” you looked over the top of the menu. “We need to split one order and get an order of something that isn’t going to potentially melt our tongues off.” 
“You’re no fun,” he smirked a little. 
“No, I’m a great time,” you replied. “I’m just also not insane.” 
The two of you shared the wings - both agreeing that they weren’t nearly as spicy as the menu led you to believe - and Joel took you to the next stop on his plan for the day. 
“Are you kidding me?” You jumped out of the truck looking practically giddy. “An escape room? I’ve always wanted to try one of these!” 
“Yeah, I keep seeing this one, thought I should see what all the fuss was about,” he smiled a little, putting his arm around your shoulders and kissing your temple. 
Joel was a little surprised at how much he liked the escape room thing. He’d googled it when trying to come up with something to do with you besides the cliche dinner and a movie shit and it seemed more like the kind of thing Sarah might try to get him to do. But, as it turned out, you and Joel made a great team. And he loved watching you gleefully shout the answer when you figured out a puzzle. You did a happy little jump when something unlocked or pieces fit together and shrieked and threw your arms around Joel’s neck when the room was solved in less than the two hour time limit. 
“You seriously planned even more than this?” You asked, brows raised, as the two of you got back in the truck. 
“I promised to keep my hands to myself until the end of the day,” he winked. “Can’t expect me to do that without something to distract me.” 
He took you to a winery tasting room in town next, the two of you each sampling a different variety of wines. 
“This one has a nice bouquet,” you said, nose in the glass. “Definitely smelling… um… rich mahogany?” 
Joel choked on the sip of wine that was in his mouth, trying not to shoot it out of his nose. 
“I’m sorry!” You laughed. “I really like drinking wine but I don’t know much about it at all!” 
“That’s OK,” Joel smiled. “I don’t know shit about it either.” 
“But it would sound cool to know about it, right?” You said. “Like, you take a sip and know something about it besides ‘oh yeah, that’s good and it is the color red.’” 
“OK now we just have to learn about wine together,” Joel set his glass down. “So we can sound cool.” 
“Together?” You raised your eyebrows. 
“If you want,” he shrugged, only realizing then that he was getting ahead of himself. “I want to…” 
You smiled a little. 
“I want to, too.” 
At dinner, you excused yourself to the restroom and Joel checked his phone for the first time since he’d picked you up that morning, only to see a text from you come through as he checked his other messages. 
“Need your help,” it said. “Last door in the hall.” 
Joel frowned, pocketing his phone and went to find you, knocking once on the door before you opened it, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him inside, locking the door behind him. 
“What are…” 
“I figure if our clothes stay on it counts as keeping our hands to ourselves, right?” You pressed yourself against the front of him, kissing him. 
“Definitely,” he said, already breathless. 
He pushed you back into the wall and put his knee between your legs, his cock - at least half hard for the entire goddamn day - against your hip. Your arms went around his neck and you kissed him. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he moaned into you as you started to rock your hips against his thigh. 
“Fuck Beautiful,” he groaned as he kissed down your jaw to your throat. “You been needy all day?” 
“Since you picked me up,” your head went back against the tile wall of the bathroom, voice breathless and wanting. 
“Fuck, me too,” he nipped your throat and pressed his cock into you, grinding against your body like a goddamn teenager. “Think you can come from just riding my leg?” 
He pulled you down on him, making you groan. He could feel the wet heat of you, even through the fabric. Fuck, he wanted to feel you there, wanted to bury himself inside you there. 
“Yes,” you managed. 
Joel’s hands slid down your body to your ass, his fingers sinking into your flesh, pulling your body tight to him as he cursed the fabric between his skin and yours, fucking up against you. You rode his leg, breaths coming in stuttering gasps, working your pussy against him harder and faster, your body pressed flush against his own. 
“Joel, fuck,” you fingers tangled in his hair as he buried his face in your neck. “I’m going to come, I’m going to fucking…” 
“Good,” he groaned, his cock leaking and achy and all but ready to spill into his fucking jeans. “Do it, come for me, come on my fucking leg…” 
You obeyed with a desperate moan and he clutched your body to him as he felt your pussy pulsing against his thigh, the heat of your pleasure, the soft give of your skin pushing him over the edge as he came, his cock throbbing against you. 
“Fuck,” you panted, breathless, your body limp. 
“Not sure it still counts,” he dropped his head to your shoulder. 
“No, it does,” you nodded. “Definitely counts, we’ve been very well behaved all day. We’re basically angels.” 
Joel laughed before he kissed you and the two of you sheepishly made your way back to your table, no one at the restaurant seemingly any the wiser that the pair of you had all but fucked in one of the bathrooms just feet away. 
The not-quite-fucking in the bathroom made it so Joel felt like he could actually survive the rest of the evening, finally taking you to a bar to listen to live music like he’d been wanting to do since the night he met you.
The place was loud when you arrived, the band just getting started, and Joel found an open table toward the back. You held it while he got drinks and he could see a hint of the lace of your bra whenever you leaned over to tell him something over the sound of the band. 
After the two of you made it through a drink, you put your hand in his, tugging him toward the crowd clustered around the stage. 
“C’mon,” you smiled. “I feel like dancing!” 
He followed you - starting to feel like he might just follow you anywhere - and put his hands on your waist as you pressed your body against his, moving in time with the music, the whole crowd pulsing with the same energy. 
When the band slowed it down, you looped your arms around his neck and smiled, your eyes bright with the lights from the stage. 
“Can’t believe you actually planned all this,” you shook your head a little. “I don’t know that a guy has ever put this much effort into… damn, anything at all for me.” 
“You’ve been dating the entirely wrong kind of men then,” he replied, wondering how the fuck someone wouldn’t try to do anything and everything for you, just for an excuse to see you all the time. 
“Probably true,” you laughed a little. “Or you’re just a breed unto yourself, Joel Miller.”
“It’s for the best,” he smiled, trailing his fingers up your arm. You kissed him, all soft and sweet, different from every other kiss he’d shared with you so far. It was the first time it felt like he was kissing you just to kiss you, not because it was leading to your bed. He liked it, the gentle intimacy of it. 
The song ended and the band said they were taking a break but would be back up soon and you pressed your lips a little firmer to his for a second before pulling back from him. 
“Why don’t you go hold down the table for a second?” You smiled. “My turn to get the drinks.” 
“But…” 
“I insist,” you cut him off. “Not letting you into my apartment later any other way.” 
“You drive a hard bargain,” he kissed your cheek. “But I accept.” 
Joel went back to the table and watched you from across the bar, not much different than the night he first met you. Except now he got to go home with you. He smiled to himself and shook his head a little. How the hell had he gotten that lucky? 
Sarah had texted him at some point in the evening, asking what he was up to the next week. He texted her back, still not quite sure how to broach the subject of you with his daughter. He’d have to at some point. He wasn’t about to give you up, he’d have to talk to Sarah about it eventually. The both of you would. He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket, looking up to find you at the bar as you stared down some guy who was almost Joel’s size, the man’s hand on your lower back. Your mouth was drawn low into a frown and Joel was half way across the bar before he fully realized what he was doing. 
He reached you in what felt like a second, pulling you back from the bar and putting himself between the man and you. 
“Hey man…” the guy began but Joel cut him off. 
“You botherin’ my girl?” He snapped. His blood was hot, he could feel it moving through his body. He’d looked away from you for a minute, just a minute, and some guy had decided he could just touch you when you didn’t want it. 
“Sorry, she didn’t say she had a boyfriend…” 
“Don’t matter. She say you could touch her?” Joel shoved him. “‘Cause sure didn’t look like she appreciated that shit.” Joel shoved him again. “You like bein’ touched without permission?” Another shove. “Not so fuckin’ nice when it’s a man doin’ it to you, is it?” 
The guy was either stupid or drunk. Maybe both. Either way, he telegraphed his next move by a fucking mile, pulling his fist back to take a swing at Joel. He dodged it, easily, before punching back, catching the man across the jaw and sending him sprawling to the floor. 
“Joel!” Your voice snapped him out of it. He relaxed his fist and shook some of the stiffness out of his hand, turning to you and realizing for the first time that the whole bar was staring. Shit. The guy on the floor groaned and started sitting up. 
“Why don’t you go on home before we need to call the cops,” the bartender said, his hand balled in a fist on the bar top. 
“Come on, Joel.” 
You looped your arm around his and tugged him along toward the door, the two of you going to his truck in silence. 
“I’m really sorry about that,” he said after he’d been driving in awkward quiet for a few minutes. 
“What happened?” You asked. He glanced over at you. You didn’t look pissed, at least. 
“Saw the look on your face,” he focused on the road, flexing the hand with the sore knuckles. “I just looked down to check my phone, text Sarah back real quick and the next thing I know that fucker’s got his hand on you and it sure as shit didn’t look like somethin’ you wanted…” 
“It wasn’t something I wanted,” you said. 
Joel nodded. 
“Just saw red,” he ground his teeth. “Don’t know why some men think they’re just entitled to… Look, not exactly proud of it, but if something pisses me off in just the right - or wrong, I guess - way, I just…” 
“It’s OK, Joel.” 
“Need you to know that it’s never happened with a woman,” he said, glancing at you again before looking back to the road. “Not someone I was seein’, not Sarah, not anyone else. I’d never react like that to you no matter what you did, never…” 
“I said it’s OK, Joel.” 
The knot in his stomach relaxed just a bit. 
“Didn’t freak you out?” He asked, looking your way just long enough to catch you shaking your head as you answered. 
“Didn’t freak me out.” 
“Because I really don’t want to…” 
“Joel,” you cut him off. “I’m not afraid of you because you lost your temper on an asshole at the bar who deserved it.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he could hear the hint of a smile on your voice. “It was… actually, it was kind of nice. I dated a guy for a bit in Seattle and he literally watched a guy grab my ass when we were at a baseball game and he didn’t do a damn thing, didn’t even back me up when I handled it myself. It… it was kind of nice to not have to handle it myself.” 
“Shouldn’t have to handle it at all,” he said. “Assholes need to learn to keep their hands to themselves. But you definitely won’t need to handle it if I’m there.”
You looked at him for a moment when he didn’t park the truck outside your apartment, instead pulling up to your front walk. 
“Thought the whole point of earlier is that we were leaving our clothes on until this point of the night,” you said. “Makes it a little difficult if you’re in a different house.” 
“You really still want me to come inside?” He raised his eyebrows. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“Get in my house so I can take your pants off, please.” 
He smiled a little. 
“Yes ma’am.” 
Your front door had barely even closed behind you before you were pulling at Joel’s shirt, his mouth on yours, his cock already hard and aching for you. 
His shirt wound up somewhere on the floor of your living room, yours in the hall. He left the bra on for a bit, your nipples firm against the lace. His pants wound up in the doorway to your bedroom, yours next to your bed as he pressed you back against the mattress. You fell onto it before crawling back, putting yourself in the middle of the bed and he followed, his mouth on yours, tasting the cocktail from the bar on your tongue. 
He kissed down your throat to your breasts, his tongue dipping between the gaps in the lace to find your skin, your back arching below him when he licked closer to your nipple before he gave it a sucking kiss. He trailed his lips over your breast bone to your other breast and gave you the same treatment there, your breaths starting to come in gasping little pants. Your bra clasped in the front - thank fuck for that - and he opened it, revealing your soft flesh. He cupped your breasts, the heavy weight of them silk against his calloused hands, before he traced down your body with his mouth and fingers to your hips. He took a second to appreciate just how fucking pretty your pussy looked in your black lace panties before he hooked his fingers around the top of them and tugged them down your body, casting them aside and crawling between your legs. 
He put a thigh over each shoulder and pressed a kiss to your clit and you took a deep, shuddering breath before you spoke, your voice sounding almost strangled. 
“You don’t have to do that,” you were practically squirming below him. 
“I know,” he ran his tongue slowly from your hole to your clit. “But I want to. Been wanting to, shame I haven’t yet, taste so fucking good…” 
You moaned and he smiled a little before dipping his tongue into your wet heat. He moaned too, couldn’t help it. He hadn’t been lying, your pussy tasted good, heady musk with a hint of sweetness to you. He clutched one of your thighs against his head with one hand and teased your clit with the other, making your hips rock into him and your back arch. 
“Sorry,” you panted, going still. “I’m… fuck, sorry…” 
“For what?” He pulled his mouth away from you just enough to look up your body and properly see you. “You think I don’t want your perfect fucking pussy coming all over my mouth? Think I don’t want you riding my fucking face? Want you come all over me, Beautiful, want you to do whatever it takes to make you come all over me.” 
He went back to eating at your pussy, devouring you as you moaned and arched below his touch, your sex getting wetter and wetter as his tongue worked you open. He added a finger to your tight, slick hole and he felt you start to contract around him, your breath picking up, your fingers clutching at your bedspread. He pressed harder against your clit, hooked his fingers into your inner wall, his tongue pushing deep as you came around him with a strangled cry. He smiled against you as he worked you through your orgasm, not easing up on you until you went limp below him, whimpering as you did. 
“You can’t seriously think I didn’t enjoy that,” he panted as he trailed his mouth back up your body, his lips still wet with you. You just laughed, breathless. 
He went to reach for the drawer where you kept the condoms but you grabbed his wrist. 
“Wait,” you said, breath still heavy. He frowned but obeyed, his fingers lacing with yours. He gently guided your hand with his to your breast, holding you gently. You moaned slightly and closed your eyes before you gave your head a small shake. “Sorry, trying to focus…” 
“Want me to stop?” He smirked. 
You glared at him. 
“No. But… I was thinking… I’m not… I haven’t been sleeping with anyone but you and I don’t know if you’re sleeping with anyone else…” 
“I’m not.” 
You smiled a little. 
“You’re the first person I’ve been with since I tested last and everything was clear,” your voice was hesitant. “And I’ve got an IUD…” 
“You asking me to fuck you bare?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You bit your lip and nodded. “Fuck Beautiful…” 
“Assuming you don’t have anything I should know about,” you said, a little hesitant. “And if you’re OK with it…”
“More than fuckin’ OK with it,” he brushed your hair back with his free hand and held the crown of your head in his palm. “Love the thought of that, of bein’ that close to you.” 
He pulled his hand from yours and slid it between you to your dripping slit, making you gasp. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to focus on something aside from the thought of sinking into your body with nothing between you. 
“Want to feel you that way,” you said softly, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. “Joel…” 
He kissed you then, sliding a finger into you and making your hips rock against him. He gathered your slick and brought it to his cock, coating himself in you. You already felt good - fucking exquisite - when he brought the head of him to your tight, grasping hole. 
Joel pushed inside you slowly, gently, easing you open as you arched into him and your hands splayed over his back. 
He licked into your mouth softly as he pressed into you, trying desperately to focus on something besides just how incredible it felt to be inside you bare. 
Because it was incredible. Beyond incredible. He hadn’t been inside someone without a condom in years, no relationships lasting long enough for him to trust someone enough to fool around without one. Knock up one woman by accident and you learn your lesson real damn quick. 
But you were different. You were you. It was safe to want you this way, have you this way. He could trust you, he could feel that. More than that, he wanted to feel you this way, feel you from inside, feel the very core of you as you took him into yourself, vulnerable and wanting. 
He sank into you and you were so fucking wet, so fucking soft, so fucking warm. He’d never felt anything as good as this, didn’t think there was something that could feel as good as this. But it made sense that he’d find it within you, perfect fucking sense that something so exquisite would be found inside of someone so fucking exquisite in every other way. Your laugh, your skin, your way of thinking, of course being inside you would be almost painfully incredible. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted as he bottomed out in you, his hips flush to yours. He could feel every detail of your muscles stretching around him, the way your body seemed to cradle his own. “Fuck you feel… you feel…” 
“I know baby,” he kissed you, holding himself inside you as he gave your channel a moment to adjust to the size of him. “Fuck, I know…” 
He kissed you again when he started moving in you and you moaned into his mouth, your hips rocking up to meet his own. 
Joel started slowly - he had to or he’d come far before he was ready to, you felt too damn good - savoring at how acutely he could feel every part of you as he thrust into you. 
But he gave in before too long, thrusting into you harder, faster, swallowing the delicious noises you made as you clung to him, your fingers pressing into his back, your legs entwined with his. He could feel you starting to tighten around him, your movements getting faster, sloppy. 
“Not going to last when you come,” he managed, pressing his mouth to your throat before continuing. “Where…” 
“Inside me,” you panted, desperate. “Please, Joel…” 
He nodded into your neck, fucking into you harder and faster and your fingers clung to him as you came, your back arching into him. He looped an arm below you, holding your body tightly to his own as his cock pressed deep inside you. 
“God, fuck, that’s right, come for me,” he said, inches away from coming himself, your walls pulsing around him harder and tighter than they ever had before. “C’mon Beautiful, doing so good, taking me so well…” 
He managed to hold out until your orgasm began to weaken and, with a tortured moan, filled you, pumping rope after rope of come into your desperate, aching core. Your hand flew to as close to his lower back as you could reach and you somehow pushed him deeper into you. He was already leaking out of you, spilling onto his balls and legs before he was even finished coming. 
He collapsed onto you, his head over your shoulder, your hands running in little trails up and down his back as you both panted for breath. The moment he had the energy, he lifted his head enough to kiss you and then rolled you so you were both on your sides, facing each other. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. 
“Fuck that was incredible,” you smiled a little at him. 
He smiled a little back. 
“You’re stuck with me now,” he said. You laughed. “Can’t recover from sex that damn good, it’s impossible.” 
He held you like that for a long time, the two of you eventually disentangling from each other enough for you to fall asleep on his chest, Joel’s hand splayed wide across the soft skin of your back. 
He woke up before you in the morning, feeling more well rested than he remembered feeling anytime in the last decade, at least. He’d never slept over before and you’d never slept over at his place, always going your separate ways after sex. He didn’t think he could let that keep happening either. 
Joel gently extracted himself from you and you made a groggy little sound but he shushed you, kissing your temple and urging you back to sleep, giving you a pillow to wrap around. He went to your dresser and grabbed a t-shirt from a drawer you’d tossed him a shirt to wear home before. He looked at it and smiled a little, the shirt from a Halloween-themed 5K you’d done with Sarah in Seattle. He remembered her gushing to him about it. He pulled it on, grabbed his jeans and the keys to your place and his truck. 
You’d mentioned a coffee shop down the road, how you liked their skim lattes, a few times and he thought he found it. It was early enough on a Sunday - church still in session - that the place was pretty quiet. He pulled up a picture he had of you on his phone - a selfie you’d sent from the office when he’d asked to see you one afternoon when his job was being particularly shitty - and asked the barista if she knew you and what coffee you usually got. She did know you and smiled a little at Joel before making you an Irish cream latte. He got a cappuccino for himself and breakfast sandwiches before going back to your place and letting himself in. 
You were still in bed, asleep but not deeply. He set your coffee and sandwich on your side of the beg, kissing your forehead as he brushed your hair back. You smiled. 
“Thought you might want coffee,” he said quietly. 
“Mmmm, always want coffee,” you smiled and opened your eyes, looking him over. You smiled wider. “That shirt fits you a whole lot better than it fits me.” 
“Probably looks better on you though,” he smiled, climbing into bed next to you. 
“Did you really go to my favorite coffee place?” You gaped at him as you sat up. He shrugged. “Joel, I swear, you’re going to ruin me for all other men…” 
“Don’t mind that one bit,” he smiled. 
He’d only gotten a bite of his bagel sandwich in when he felt his phone vibrate against his leg. He frowned, pulling it out. Sarah was calling. His frown deepened. 
“I’m so sorry,” he began, showing you the screen. 
“Don’t be, of course pick up, it’s Sarah,” you said, picking up your coffee cup, your eyebrows knitted together. 
“Hey baby girl,” he said after he answered. “Everything OK? Never mind hearin’ from ya but it’s awful early out by you…” 
“Where are you right now?” She asked. 
He frowned. 
“Home,” he said, not thrilled about lying but… 
“No you’re not,” she said. 
He frowned deeper. 
“What d’you mean ‘no I’m not?’” 
“I mean,” he could hear the smile on her voice. “I’m in your living room and neither you nor your truck are here, what the heck Dad?” 
“You’re in Austin?” He looked at you and your eyes went wide. “What are you doin’ here!” 
“There was a cheap last minute flight deal so I figured why not surprise my favorite old man,” she said. “So where the heck are you! I need a Dad hug, it makes getting to the airport at like 4 a.m. worth it.” 
“Shit!” You whispered. Joel winced. 
“I’m on my way back home after runnin’ some errands,” he said quickly. “I’ll be there in just a few, I can’t believe you’re here baby girl! Missed you so much!” 
“I’m going to make coffee,” she said. “And then drink it all before you get here so you can’t have any. See you soon!” 
Your eyes were still wide when he hung up the phone. 
“Have you…” you began. He shook his head. “Yeah, I haven’t said anything to her, either…” 
“We can try and figure it out but I have to go,” he kissed you, deep and desperate, the only thing that could possibly pull him away from your bed right now coincidentally being the person who just showed up in his living room. “I’ll text you, I’m so sorry but…” 
“Go,” you kissed him again, a quick but soft kiss. “Go home, see Sarah, keep me posted?” 
He nodded, grabbing his coffee and his sandwich and going to the door before turning back to you. 
“I had…” 
“Joel, I swear to God if Sarah finds out about us because you were standing here too long I will never fuck you again,” you laughed. “Text me about it when you have a minute. And I had a great time, too.” 
He smiled. 
“OK. See you soon.” 
He half ran to his truck, jumping in the driver’s seat and flooring it back to his place. 
He totally forgot about the shirt. 
Next Chapter
A/N: OH NO NOT SARAH! Even though we love Sarah. But this will be a wrench in things. Wonder what will happen now???
I hope you all enjoyed a cameo by Feral!Joel because I love him.
Thank you so much for being here and for reading! Love you!!!
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wannab-urs · 3 months
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Gin's 2023 sappy post
It's hard for me to believe that at the beginning of this year, I didn't know a single one of my best friends in the world existed. But it's true!
How we got here
I'm not quite sure exactly when I started looking up Pedro Pascal on Tumblr, but it was sometime after February. I'd watched Game of Thrones and Oberyn was my favorite character, but I was in one of my periods of not being on Tumblr (I've had this account for about 10 years, but it's seen many fandoms and I haven't always been active).
I watched the first few episodes of The Last of Us that had come out - I was 3 episodes behind I think - and immediately looked up Joel Miller on Tumblr. How could I not? Anyway, give me ten minutes on this hellsite and a middle aged man with a huge imdb and watch me develop a hyperfixation.
So then I looked up interviews. I watched basically every interview this man ever did, but I remember that the Lie Detector interview and his appearance on the Talk Easy podcast are really what did me in. I went from admiring this man as an actor and thinking he's pretty to basically being in love with him.
Anyways....
I didn't mean to start reading fanfic? I come from the world of Destiel on AO3. I never wrote it, I just read copious amounts of it. I'd never read reader insert, much less straight reader insert, and I'd never written a word of anything even resembling a fanfiction.
But I found @prolix-yuy, @frannyzooey, @joelscruff, @fuckyeahdindjarin, and @ezrasbirdie (check the spreadsheet, y'all are at the very top!) and I was hooked.
Then I read Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat and Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried and was inspired to parade my trauma around in a Dieter shaped trench coat: AGOY was born.
@beskarandblasters is the first person I really talked to on here. In fact, Kel is the one who introduced me to most of my friends on here. And we've been harassing each other on the daily since. I hope to 🦵 her in real life someday soon ❤️. I love you, bitch. You mean the world to me.
I could never ever ever list all of my dear friends I've made on here. Seriously, there are so many of you that mean the world to me. But I'm gonna list a few.
My cannibal crew @pr0ximamidnight and @atinylittlepain, without whom Love as Violence Dave (starving season), Head up his Ass Javi (in the a.m.), and the later editions of loser druggie Dieter (AGOY) would not exist - or at least they wouldn't be as good as they are.
My darling soup snake, the loml, my spider twin, my forever partner in making bitches cry (it's us, we're bitches, making each other cry in an endless loop) @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. #1 AGOY stan forever, you may love my own magnum opus more than I love it. Thanks for listening to me scream about every pedro boy on the planet and thanks for screaming right back at me. I love you.
The random college student I found by accident, decided to take under my wing, and then was subsequently taken under their wing bc it turns out they have more fandom experience and life advice than I can ever hope to have @idolatrybarbie. Bea, my darling, thanks for always letting me bitch, for showing me fics I never thought I'd be into (The Santa Claus AU Frankie Morales Free Use Kink, anyone) but that I often was into, for encouraging my writing, and for being fucking real with me.
The pedrostories crew, but especially @pedrorascal - I love screaming about Pedro with you at... 2:30 in the morning my time (we love time zones!). Thanks for letting me be a terrible mod for your fic archive blog and never getting mad at me for not doing my job. And for being a wonderful, kind, amazing person all the fucking time.
I'm being so serious when I say I could list at least 20 more people. People who brightened my day with a reblog or a message. Or who wrote a fic I still think about at least once a week. Or who made a gifset that is permanently etched into my brain. People I talked to in discords and most likely trauma dumped on and they listened and they cared and they let me hold their trauma in return. I love you guys so fucking much.
Conclusion
I never could have imagined I'd be a writer and run a fic rec blog at 24. Especially not for Pedro Pascal Characters. But here we are -- and I can honestly say it has been the highlight of my year. And I bought a house this year.
I have so many new friends and a new hobby (I never wrote at all before this) just because I wanted to Fuck That Old Man. Incredible.
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vaspider · 10 months
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I've been thinking about this since a post earlier - one of the many vague anon messages to people who reblog from me - and the response, and... man, the older I get, the more exhausted I get by the way that Tumblr deals with certain things, and the weird approach to moral purity it has.
Listen: if what you want is to reblog from someone who is "not problematic," first of all, there's no one on this entire planet who meets that standard, but definitely not me. I've never made any pretensions towards being perfect, y'all. I'm absolutely not. I am a profoundly flawed human being, just doing my best every single day. I make mistakes, and I will continue to make mistakes as long as I keep breathing, because that's... that's what being human is. The only way to be unproblematic to absolutely everyone is to do nothing at all.
There was a time when I -- like many other people -- made the mistake of trying to live up to the endlessly changing, wildly conflicting standards of morality in the third space of social media.
I'm not doing that, now. I know who I am, and I'm trying to be who I am to the best of my ability, every day. I'm not here to be unproblematic for you, or for anyone else, including myself. I'm here to talk about the things that matter to me, again, to the best of my ability, and to be the best version of myself that I can, for the people I love and the people who love me.
It's super fucking cool that a lot of people like the things that I have to say, because I really like writing about the things that matter to me, and I really like talking with y'all about those things very much, but I'm not here to owe anything to anyone on Tumblr, much less the performance of wildly varying and quickly-shifting social standards.
Last month, I passed the tenth anniversary of my spinal surgery, the day where I almost died several times in one day when my blood pressure crashed over and over. It was the kind of near-death experience that people write about or put into movies, the sort where later on you realize that the recovery room wasn't pitch-black, your eyes just weren't working at the time, and that yes, you did spend an extended period of time having a conversation with a beloved friend who died sixteen days earlier.
At the time, I just thought she'd come to sit with me in the recovery room. It all seemed perfectly logical.
The past two years have included suicidal ideation in someone close to me to the point where that person wasn't permitted to be unsupervised or have free access to car keys for their own safety.
These crucibles, and their anniversaries, really bring the crude truth of life and its priorities up to the surface. I'm happy to be here, and I'm happy to share with y'all the things that I want to share, and to write about the things that I want to write about, but please don't get confused. I'm not here to dance to someone else's song, and I'm not here to perform for anybody.
If you want to come with me for the journey I'm going on, and if you want to talk with me about the things I want to talk about, that's great. If you don't want to do that, it's okay to block me. You don't owe me anything, either. Please don't tag me in posts where people rumor-monger about me, or clutch their pearls about me, or any of it.
You can interact with me or not. I'm not changing for you, and I'm not justifying my existence to you or anyone else.
Whatever I do, here or anywhere else, I do for me and for my family. That's it.
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craycraybluejay · 17 days
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makes a personal post about how insane it is to be harassed over just existing as i guess the wrong gender.
the person telling me i'm painting a "victim narrative" in my notes whilst they prove my point that its impossible to exist on Tumblr unharassed as a trans man, especially once you start calling people on their shit:
ah yes... the victim narrative.. that us not wanting to be called slurs and harassed is transmisogyny but them using slurs and dogpiling complete fucking strangers for not taking it quietly is self respect. yeah. uh-huh.
fastest way to know how you think about trans people and what their gender "really is" socially is to cross-reference whats permissible to some of us and not to others. the narrative that its ok for trans women to bully if they want to and that trans men are "hysterical" for pointing out its fucked up paints a gruesome picture. that random cruelty is rather necessary almost "discipline" and dissent is an inherent unworthiness to ever being allowed your humanity. idk, i'm not organizing my thoughts well and while an academic can do it better i am fkn tired of being clung to by these people. i'm tired of being a target. the only reason you cowardly people act this way online is because you know you will not face real consequences even if you drive someone to suicide.
y'all think anyone acts like this in real life? extremist or not, most are probably not so stupid as to think that behaviour will fly in most of the real world. you are not some sort of freedom fighter for harassing trans men. you are just a spiteful and self loathing bully who is too much of a coward to own up to that behaviour. you're not special, you're not gonna get a gold medal from the fucking radfem platoon. you are just one bully of many who would rather put others down than work on your own problems. someone who acts with the misdirected anger they were always allowed. if your reaction to "you shouldn't harass and bully others" makes you pull out some bullshit statement about trans women you are not only a liar you are fucking smearing my trans sisters who do not want to be involved with your bullshit crusade. who don't have such a weird inferiority-superiority complex to say "because i am the most oppressed in the world that gives me the right to come after anyone i want." i don't think all of these types are like that, some of them just listen to the loudest and most self-assured voices. still the result is the same. you drag both trans people like you and unlike you through the mud for no reason other than a horrible coping mechanism. genuinely just do some drugs if you only like unhealthy coping mechanisms; instead of spouting vitriol at strangers. i have no quarrel with trans women-- in fact many are unfairly judged and some even manipulated into picking sides when there ARE NO sides. trans women are unfairly followed around by this reputation of angry bullies. and thats not her fault for being trans, you know? its the fault of those who want to live the high school mean girl phase forever. the people who genuinely don't give a shit if their supposed only insular community is collateral so long as they can continue to bully. sure, maybe you'll speak out against someone being accused of your beliefs as unfair. and it is unfair. but will you stop and reconsider what your beliefs are doing to those they claim to care about? no. because putting your painful feelings on other people is more important than protecting the few you like or care about. if your hate is more important than your love for the "in-group," you have far beyond lost the ideology game. in fact, its no longer ideology at all. its just being hateful and using ideology as a cover.
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waitmyturtles · 7 months
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Okie-dokes: I'm very late to reporting on Dangerous Romance, episode 3, and listen -- listen. A lot of you know I'm in a compromised life state at the moment, --
(I'M MOVING. HOW. IN THE HELL. DO I OWN. SO MUCH. JUST. FUCKING SHIT. HOW DID I FIT SO MUCH SHIT INTO THIS PLACE THAT I AM LEAVING. OH MY GODDAMN WHAT THE FUCK. LET ME BECOME A MONK AND GIVE UP ALL THIS CRAP.)
-- yes, compromised life state, lol, and can't give too much thought to good meta at the moment. (I had to pause Not Me for the Old GMMTV Challenge because even just three episodes in, I knew it was SO GOOD that it deserves my undivided attention.)
So, yeah, brain is out of service at the moment, and then we have THIS episode of Dangerous Romance, and let me just note: y'all, Dangerous Romance was trending on Tumblr even through Only Friends Saturday last weekend (with Only Friends NOT trending, mind you). DR is clearly serving something (.....sigh, ships) that OF is not giving the fandom girlies, and man, did DR just lay it on THICK this week, huh?
I will admit. I'm a touch bummed. I LOVE PERTH AND CHIMON. I LOOOOOVVVVE THEM, YER HONORESSES! UNABASHEDLY. Yes, I love their faces. I DO, NO SHAME. I love their acting, too! I love them, like ::waves hands in circles:: all of it, all of them. I was hoping they'd chomp into a meatier show.
This is not that show. The puppy music, the reeeeeally fast swings into sympathy and "oh, you're my tutor now, bro, and I will spill all my feelings to you," IN ENGLISH AND KOREAN -- and just a touch of a class division conversation by way of Kang homey buying Sailom homey an extra dinner to-go. Sailom is now Kang's... confidante? Kang wants to make someone, anyone, proud, and it looks like Sailom is the guy.
I mean, this episode was all over the place, but....
Forgive me, meta angels, because this is EXACTLY what I need right now, omg. I'm mentally done, I'm toast! Not to say that I'm not going to enjoy Only Friends tomorrow! I am going to totally eat OF up.
But I will ROBUSTLY ADMIT to ALSO being okay with PerthChimon fan service at the moment. Unfortunately for any of my hopes of them being in a more dramatically complicated series: they still have hilarious chemistry. They're actual real bros in real life (Papang smh lol). They're clearly having fun doing this together, like OhmPerth in Double Savage. Chimon's facial expressions are outta control (that look on his face when Perth/Kang accelerated the bike? I cackled).
This is fluff! As @lurkingshan noted -- a recalibration of expectations is in order for this show. I'm taking this show right now as 100% fan service from my PerthChimon wub woobies. Perth and Chimon (and really, the co-director of this show, Lit Phadung of SOTUS and SOTUS S) -- these dudes know the score. Perth and Chimon have been around for a minute. You need two dudes to dial up to 10 on fluff BL? They have those tropes so memorized that it's burned in their bones. Put 'em in coach, they're ready to play.
If I take this show on THAT tip, then -- as an aiming-to-be-classic romance BL, then it's doing something.... if not right, then at least aligned to some tropes simply by mood. I'm curious about Sailom's flashbacks to Kang's bullying, but I don't have the strength or mindpower to read into it. If a reference back to the bullying comes -- or not -- then, whatever. This show is clearly, at the moment, trying to achieve a more simple goal than I expected of it, but I'm not gonna write it off. I'll thoroughly enjoy Perth and Chimon being poodles to each other -- gimme.
I was wondering to @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm earlier today that I had previously wondered WHY GMMTV would air Dangerous Romance during the Only Friends run, especially with ALL the marketing hype around Only Friends before it premiered. At the time, it seemed to me to be a pre-emptive gong strike on Dangerous Romance. Now it makes me wonder -- did GMMTV want to cover its bases by placing a classic fluff BL on air, to protect the network from losing fandom points through Only Friends? I can only wonder. If some ships are exploding through OF -- then the network can hand PerthChimon over and say, hey, we haven't forgotten our shipping roots, girlies.
Kinda makes me think. In any case -- Shan is right. I'm recalibrated on Dangerous Romance, I'm watching this literally to see PerthChimon ham it up, annnnnddd yeah, that's about it! At this point, give me the make-out sessions, give me pool time, gimme. I unabashedly stan and simp. If we get some real drama out of this show -- it will be a wonderful surprise. I just hope the show doesn't veer into totally unwatchable territory.
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whatiwillsay · 7 months
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🚨SURPRISE IT'S LISTENER APPRECIATION WEEK🚨
Good morning WIWS Nation, I'm excited to announce today is the launch of our second annual listener appreciation week!
"What is listener appreciation week?" you might ask. As a sign of my undying appreciation to the listeners of this podcast and members of the WIWS community, I like to do a surprise week once a year or so to flood you guys with TONS of extra content and other fun promotions during the week! I am so immensely grateful that you guys have enabled me to foster such a wonderful space for nosy gays that sometimes I just have to show you guys with a big bang! Here are some details you need to know!
First things first! I am opening up the Secret Sessions Discord to Ashley Avignone Patrons and up for the week! We have had to close it due to some trolling for the past six months and it's getting so big keeping it safely modded has become a bit of a concern. But we're going to open it to Ashley+ Patrons for the next week and let you guys get grandfathered into it before we close it for a while to keep the size of it under control. It *will* probably be opened up again sometime in the future but it may be only open to higher tiers to again keep the population under control and able to be safely modded. If you want to join it during this special open period simply link your Patreon account to Discord by following these directions.
Secondly HUGE FUCKING ANNOUNCEMENT! Not to bury the lead sorry I didn't want anyone to miss the discord announcement BUT ME AND MY GIRLFRIEND GABRIELLA ARE STARTING A PODCAST AND IT LAUNCHES TODAY! It's called Stay at Home Girlfriends and it's a podcast where you can listen in to get advice from your cool gay aunties! Episode 1 is up NOW and you can listen on Spotify! (More apps coming soon)
and follow our socials here:
Instagram
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OK BUT FOR REAL THOUGH HERE'S THE AMAZING CONTENT SCHEDULE FOR THE WEEK!
Sunday, August 27th (LIVE NOW!) - Cara joins me on the Patreon for a State of the Gaylor Union. We catch up on all the latest Taylor news including some more convo about Karlie at the Eras Tour, the latest Toe gossip we've heard, and go through all the ships with a brief update on how we feel about them.
Monday, August 28th (LIVE NOW!) - Gabriella joins me on the main pod to go through my original Swiftgron master post! That's right! All this week and into the next couple weeks we'll be covering the best timeline of them all!
AND (LIVE NOW!) Gabriella also joins me on Patreon to do a juicy oversharing Q&A about our relationship!
Tuesday, August 29th - Torry from Ready to be Petty joins me on the Patreon to deep dive into the dark world of Jon & Kate Plus 8!
Wednesday, August 30th - Gabbie joins me again on the main pod to continue our trek through the Swiftgron Timeline!
Thursday, August 31st - Jenna from Date Card Pod joins me on Patreon to catch up on pop culture and check in and see how we're doing with our 2023 pop culture predictions and 2023 resolutions!
Friday, September 1st - Gabbie joins me again on the main pod for more Swiftgron Timeline goodness!
Saturday, September 2nd - Shannon from Fluently Forward joins me on Patreon to catch up on Taylor, Gaylor, and pop culture hot takes!
Sunday, September 3rd - The discord community will remain linked to the Patreon until midnight on this day!
I hope y'all are as excited as I am for THREE main pod episodes and FIVE Patreon episodes this week!!! And I genuinely, truly hope you guys feel the love from me! We have our ups and downs and nobody is perfect, certainly not me. But that doesn't stop me from being SO HUGELY AND IRREVOCABLY GRATEFUL, THANKFUL, AND APPRECIATIVE to all of you for being a part of this weird but amazing little Evidence Based Gossip community!
Remember! You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection. 💙
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allfandoms-writings · 11 months
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Task Forced 141 and what Bones has them listed under in her contacts
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alright so i feel like i need to add some context before anyone comes at me for any reason if there even is one lmao. bones is my oc and i think she's the first one i've posted to tumblr. either way if y'all want to know more i am more than happy to provide information and inspiration for any other cod ocs. now enjoy my brainrot
Ghost ― Smooth Operator. They were all at a pub and the song came on and she nearly choked on her drink when Soap mentioned it was a dead ringer for him and from that day on that's what she's got him under. She even changed the ringtone to the song and he smoked her for it when he found out a couple months later
Soap ― Irish Spring. He fucking hates it and she fucking loves it. "Listen, Irish Spring, it's still technically Soap, you're just being an ass about it."
Price ― Stick and Poke. Bones has known Price the longest, and before he was the Captain for the 141, the two of them met by coincidence at a bar and got so hammered they woke up snuggled up to the other with matching stick and poke tattoos and no recollection of how they got them or who the other was (these tattoos have since been covered with a better matching tattoo)
Gaz ― Seat Belt. Gaz was the last person she was able to get a contact number from and for the longest time had trouble coming up with a nickname for him, but once she learned he fell out of a fucking helicopter, she knew exactly what to name him. She even calls him Seat Belt in person, and nearly killed Price when he choked on his cigar.
Alejandro ― Cowboy #1. It's a running gag between her and the Los Vaqueros. He has her listed under "ICE" once he learned she grew up near the Texas border (I mean the accent was a dead giveaway but semantics)
Rudolfo ― Cowboy #2. Rudy thinks its funny and has her listed as "Colonizer"
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audiwolf86 · 8 days
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[FINAL RESPONSE] Maybe One Last Snowball Shall We?
For now on, any mentions of my past actions are permanently forbidden and that i've already admitted all that and moved on for good. If i caught one individual doing so, welp, watch out. I see an "asteroid" comin' right at ya and after it comes in, i don't wanna see you again. Otherwise, i still refuse to be remembered as a DA user because that platform sucks and i have various good reasons to hate it and never think of a possible return. I don't wanna hurt anyone (like i used to back then) because i was harassed online in many past events during my DA years and that i still want to forget them for the rest of my life (including all my rivals and former friends).
And btw, if you're doing that shit for attention (besides spying or attempting to stalk and continously attacking or blackmailing me), then, i don't really wanna care, i don't wanna listen to your spewing batshit but will still advise you to leave me alone because in my point of view, you don't exist and i don't really think i should be aware of your existence. Like i said before, i'm sayin' this only once and never again. Pardon if i'm being too demanding to y'all but i'm fuckin' serious.
If you really hate me because of my past actions, then okay, just don't keep pestering or pressuring me too much, you are wasting your time and all you need is to focus on yourself, your insulting words cannot change me anymore because i already suffered enough and all i want is a better future, i don't want online drama to keep slowing me down because, otherwise, you legit don't have a family and/or even friends and is acting like a neurotic virgin as if it's the only thing that not only makes you happy but also drives the attention of various users (who then starts to support you ironically while in sheep's clothing and holding a victim card) in a public platform just to unintentionally hurt an innocent person who they consider "the wolf" as if you're superior than anyone else. Seek help, you fuckin' animal, you're so goddamn wrong, you just don't understand shit and is just standing here like an absolute nobody and a beggar. Where is your God now and why you think online harassment is "healthy" to your mind? Get a life, dawg.
This post will be the very last time i'll mention anything about my past self and actions. Allow me to continue being that same calm person as always, i don't have time to fuck around with a buncha of crybabies like i used to, ya know, i only have time to be whatever i am because it's adulthood and i still have time to find possible ways to keep standing until the end. Thank you for reading this and have a nice day/noon/night.
Sincerely,
~Wolfgang D. Lichtensteiner (not my real name)
P.S.: If you linked my Tumblr profile somewhere else without my consent and for attention, either delete it or i'll let someone else do it for me (regardless if you're blocked or not). Otherwise, you may be still harassing me for no apparent reason even if i no longer care about any insults or defamatory info that i've had received in the past. Posts of that nature shalt be taken down and i caught at least, one person doing so in social media i used to be in.
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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 10 months
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We're playing a tag game today y'all. Put the "on repeat" playlist on spotify on shuffle and listin the first ten songs that come up. i was tagged by @keepoffthetardis (thanks😊) and I'm tagging @uozlulu @allegras-sunflower and @birdisland
These songs should be fun bc I never use spotify anymore (I use youtube music) so these songs are gonna be old.
1. When You Were Young by The Killers. I love this song. I love the early stuff the Killers did, but this is also probably one of my favorite songs of theirs. It's so damn catchy. And I don't know, I just vibe with it.
2. Hey There Delilah by Plain White Tees. I have no excuses. This song is objectively horrible. But I did once read a tumblr post about how it works as a parent to a kid, like a parent that for whatever reason can't be with their daughter and misses her and I like that interpretation a lot.
3. The Hand That Feeds by Nine Inch Nails. Ok, this is giving me Armand/Daniel vibes. Honestly, a few Nine Inch Nails songs work for them. Also, I think Anne Rice, like knew them.
4. Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet. Remember Jet y'all? They had a few really fun songs then disappeared.
5. Show Me How To Live by Audioslave. This song fucks when you are high. I feel like a teenager jamming out in my room, finally free from being around people and so finally at peace.
6. Supermassive Black Hole by Muse. Muse is also a great band to listen to high. Also, hole, heh.
7. Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand. Y'all I don't even like this song. It low key irritates me. Why did I like it? Oh, I bet for when I listened to it with my friends. One of them loved that stupid song.
8. Somebody Told Me by The Killers. Awesome song for dancing around your room in your pajamas. Very good for jumping to. Anyone else adhd just have to fucking bounce or jump sometimes? (I was undiagnosed/unmedicated till I was 30. I was living life on hard mode.)
9. Come With Me Now by Kongos. I think I did like this song at one point. And I don't dislike it now, but it's kinda meh.
10. Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. I fucking love this song. It has that dreamy, floaty feel. And I love her voice. This song can work for literally any otp, I swear, y'all
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decepticon-nerd · 11 months
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Thanks for tagging me @novafire-is-thinking
1. Are you named after someone?
I am not named after anyone, but if I have one more person ask me if I'm named after the girl from FRIENDS I'm going to scream. My name is technically biblical, so I hate it, however there is a bird with my name so that makes it a bit better.
2. When was the last time you cried?
Uh. Today. I'm having a day. :)
3. Do you have kids?
No, nor do I want any. I am not fit to be a good parent.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Yes. I can come off as a bit of a bitch, but I don't mean to. I've taken to making a silly voice when I use sarcasm so people can tell I'm not being serious.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people?
My self given nickname is Oblivious Prime because I do not notice shit. I also don't remember shit, so if I notice something, once it's out of my field of view it just Does Not Exist
6. What's your eye colour?
Brown
7. Scary movies or good endings?
Am I allowed to say both? Horror movie, with a relatively good ending? Or a wholesome movie with a good ending, and on the other hand, the most gruesome thing imaginable? I like both
Also, probably unpopular opinion, I actually enjoyed the Slenderman movie. Do with that information whatever you will
8. Any special talents?
Uhhhhhhh. No? I don't think so (genuine)
9. Where were you born?
Probably a hospital
10. What are your hobbies?
My hobbies used to be drawing, gaming, and listening to music. I technically still do all of those things, but I mostly doomscroll on Tumblr now. If I can break the doomscroll, I attempt one of the above.
11. Do you have any pets?
Her
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12. What sports do you play/have you played?
I used to play soccer and was apparently good at dodgeball in school
13. How tall are you?
I'm 5'5" and apparently give off short king energy because all of y'all said I was 5'3" or 5'2" 💀
14. Favourite subject in school?
Art and forensic science. I love anatomy and yet I suck at foreshortening said anatomy
15. Dream job?
I don't know about dream job but I want to be in a house in the mountains with a goddamn goat and a chicken telling capitalism to fuck off and drawing funky little gay dudes (and funky little gay robots)
I'll come back to dream job when my head doesn't feel like a can of spaghetti
No pressure tags: @she-toadmask @transingthoseformers
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oh-my-damn · 10 months
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Wow. You're sure putting in a lot of time and effort into a man you claim not to like. A normal person, with a normal, rational brain, would simply walk away and pay him no mind. Say you're jealous and go because girlie, it's embarrassing as fuck and so many blogs on here laugh at you behind the scenes. There's a whole ass group chat dedicated to just laughing at you and your friend's nonsense. That's how embarrassing you, and your friends, are. ///
Okay. Here we go.
First: this is absolutely not about jealousy. Bringing up problematic behavior and people needs to happen. Here’s the best part: you don’t like what’s being said, so you probably are part of the fucking problem.
@oh-my-damn has done nothing but listen and share experiences POC, myself included, have had with this, and why our feelings are the way they are. We may not agree on real or PR, but that doesn’t affect shit between us because we are fucking adults who can have grown ass conversations.
What she’s done, just by listening and not speaking over POC voices and experiences is way more than other mods on here have done. She posts the food and the bad. And if you’re uncomfortable with that, you’re part of the fucking problem.
Do you really think she nor anyone else who is friends with her actually care that there’s a ducking group chat made just to talk shit? No. Wanna know why? You probably don’t, but I’m still going to tell you.
It’s because she and her friends address the shit talking head on. There are no passive aggressive posts or asks, they don’t need to go on anon to say their piece. They talk about it to and in front of the people that cause the fucking issues in this fandom. Creating a group just to shit talk cause you’re too fucking scared or hypocritical to actually say it outright is being a fucking coward and a child.
Run back to your fucking group chat. You belong there. And trust, that’s not a good thing. Get the fuck on and outta here with this bullshit
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Listen. Y'all can make as many group chats about me as you fucking want. Y'all can even try to blame me for doxxing, or talking shit, or being jealous, or being a hater, or whatever the fuck you want.
At the end of the day, I'm here doing me. I'm living my fucking life, I come on here when I have time, but otherwise I go to Law School (yes, you read that right. Keep that in mind next time you want to harrass, honeys. Oh, and that's not even my first degree. It is my second one. So yeah, come suck my dick), I write occasionally about characters or storylines that intrigue me, and I talk to my friends (and also people who are more than friends but I digress), and SOMETIMES I speak about topics that MATTER. They matter to a lot of people and they SHOULD matter to you. And the reason they probably don't, is because you're a bigoted racist. There, I said it.
Fucking hell. Make that fucking group chat. I hope you even put my pfp as your fucking cover photo. I hope you name it "Mandy's Hate Squad". I hope you talk about me all day.
ALL DAY. TALK ABOUT ME ALL DAY.
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I am proud that I, little old me who started a blog without even knowing how to fucking use tumblr, am on your mind enough that you NEED A WHOLE ENTIRE CHAT TO DISCUSS ME AND WHAT I DO.
God. What an honor.
I will be handing out headshots and autographs soon.
Stay tuned for my con dates!
And @adulting-sucks? I love you. Thank you for being you, always ❤️
Oh, and I also want to add... That this entire ask from the original anon was created to, once again, DEFLECT. from the REAL ISSUES. Because that's what the Defenders do. They are apologists of REAL SHIT THAT SHOULD NOT BE EXCUSED. LIKE RACISM. AND ANTI-SEMITISM. AND FATPHOBIA.
I am sure they don't understand what it means when people start excusing that kind of shit. But luckily a lot of us do.
So fuck them.
Come suck my big sweaty balls you losers 🥰😘
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lemony-snickers · 10 months
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I don’t think anyone here believes you to be pathetic. I certainly don’t leaving anon hate is pathetic. I imagine it was more of what you said that no one wanted to continue to perpetuate that hate and start a fight. I on the other hand will, I just didn’t see these until right now.
wherever that anon is now I find it absolutely disgusting to leave a comment like this on the page of someone you consider yourself to be a ‘fan’ of. You never know what people are going through and struggle with so really who the fuck are you to come in with your unfounded opinions?
I don’t know any creator that doesn’t struggle with their work and or self image in relation to that work—some are just better at hiding it than others. what do you mean promotion? Sharing here or on ao3 is promotion, and yes it clearly is a problem other writers are facing in which a work will receive 40likes and 2reblogs. Or 500 hits and 10comments. People don’t want to engage when they can read it and leave it, tiktok only reenforces that, so I don’t understand why you mention that here. How about you share some of the works your a “fan” of instead?? You’ve read the comments but have you left one? On lemony work or others?
That anon must not be a creator, as they clearly do not know how difficult it is to first find the time and drive to write and second find the courage to share those works.
Lemony do not listen to them no one who is a true fan here thinks this of you 💙
let me be clear about a few things:
no bashing or negativity aimed at an anon is ever necessary to still show support for a person who receives a less than ideal ask;
when i rb a "tell me honestly" ask game, i do not expect every response to be positive;
however, i also only rb those things when i know i am in an emotional space to take potential criticism.
so i was pretty fucking blindsided when i woke up on tuesday morning and the very first thing i saw was a long, fairly aggressively worded diatribe about how i am a "nagging girlfriend" fishing for attention in response to an ask game i had reblogged a whole week prior.
TW: talk of animal death in next paragraph.
and not that it's actually anyone's business, but it was particularly awful given that i spent monday night cradling my cat in my arms as he was euthanized after developing sudden & unexpected heart failure. so i wasn't in the headspace to deal with criticism at all. i could barely fucking get out of bed & was actually considering offering commissioned fics out of desperation to go toward the huge vet bill i had to suddenly pay out of pocket.
and then, to receive another anon ask insinuating that i sent the fucking thing to myself to garner... what? attention and sympathy? (lol if i wanted to do that i would've just talked about my dead cat, thanks!) really fucking cut deep. especially when not a soul voiced any support - publicly or privately - that that is not a thing i would do. because, true or not, the way my super cool nagging girlfriend brain works is to take that as confirmation that people agree:
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(see anon # 1, i don't throw all of my insecure complaints onto this blog and here, anon # 2, a preview of what a mean ask i sent myself might actually sound like.)
i spent the whole of tuesday crying - at my desk, on the bus home from work, during my therapy session that afternoon, and long, long after. and maybe it's stupid to feel so attacked by meaningless shit on tumblr or lonely because of the lack of response in its wake, but goddamn, y'all. there are nicer ways to air your grievances with me than to be insulting. and if you think i'm the kind of person who would send a lengthy hurtful message to myself for fucking likes or kind asks or whatever (lol joke's on you, i guess), honestly, why are you even here?
tbh, i don't know why i'm here at this point. maybe another hibernation is overdue or maybe i should've stayed gone, idk. what i do know is i didn't login all day yesterday and it felt pretty great. because it just fucking hurt to watch countless folks like and rb all the fanart from my queue that day with nary a, "hey lem, saw those asks, hope you're doing all right" in the same span of time.
(i will acknowledge that one mutual sent a totally unrelated ask re: an opinion on food & drink to change topics which i answered privately because by that point in the day i was so fucking depressed the thought of trying to be fun & lighthearted made me physically ill & i was of the resolute opinion that not a single person would give a shit what i had to say about it anyway.)
i'm sorry to vent on your ask, anon. i probably shouldn't post this but who even cares at this point, lol. people will think what they will of me and i'm too exhausted to attempt a curation of something better or more well-adjusted or self-assured.
i hope you're having a good week, blue heart anon. for better or worse, i hope the anons who made me cry on tuesday are, too. but i'm down in The Pit now (which is what my therapist and i call my deep dark depression spirals) and idk when i'll claw my way back out.
hopefully soon. take care of yourselves in the meantime, yeah? <3
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streamsofstardust · 1 year
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alright time for tal to run her mouth since that's like the one thing I'm good at. buckle up bitches I'm about to pop off
i am so beyond sick and fucking tired of seeing people come after lexi. you liked lost boys? awesome! we all did! but that's not the only thing lexi has written and it's currently not what she's working on. if you don't like what her and i are posting now simply scroll past it and move on. i can tell you right now it's not gonna stop us from writing and it's not gonna get you any more lost boys related content when you send her shitty ass anons for no reason other than the fact that you're pathetic and bored.
sorry that you don't have a creative bone in your body and can't write your own shit. plenty of writers on tumblr cater to requests and that's perfectly fine. if you want something specific go find one of them. lexi has so many good ass fucking ideas it blows my mind every time and i am beyond honored to write with her and call her one of my best friends. the people that want to bitch are, in my opinion, obnoxious little creatures with no lives. cry about it. i don't give a fuck about the feelings of people who want to disrespect people i love and care about. and y'all know i do not bite my tongue w shit like this.
not a single person on this site is entitled to any content. you should be grateful that people decide to post their work. you should be grateful when a writer you like decides to continue a series. you should be grateful that you get content that you're looking for. but this fucking bullshit expectation that any of us are just gonna drop what we're doing and write for you and you specifically is bat shit insane. i know y'all like lovers 101 but i put that on hold because I'm enjoying writing call the hunters and anthem of the angels with lexi way more. don't like the two series we're posting? either scroll on and don't interact or just fucking unfollow. i genuinely don't give a rats ass. I'm not doing this for clout or for followers or anything. i found out i like writing so i write. that's why any of us do it so for anyone to come into any creator's ask box and drop hateful comments or bitch about not getting exactly what you want when you want it is just baffling. you're fucking childish.
lexi of all people on here gets the most hate i've seen and it fucking disgusts me. between the rude and disrespectful comments about her writing to the fucking death threats? a lot of you need to be fucking institutionalized. you need serious mental help because obviously you're severely unwell. lexi is a god damn light to have in my life and anyone who knows her would say the same fucking thing.
so bottom line, if you want to be a cunt, don't. and if you chose not to listen then don't be surprised when someone like me comes out to drag your sorry asses
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siren-melodies · 8 months
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Hiii, so idk who else to tell this too but backstory my family has never been religious but lately they have an some points they be making does make sense but some are like I have my own opinion of it
But what has gotten to me is that manifesting is a sin and that we should believe in God and God only and rn idk what to do because I don't want to sin but I also want to manifest my dream life just how I want to live it. The thing is I'm not educated enough in manifesting/loa/non duality even thought I been in this community for almost a year now, to actually tell them about it.
So now I'm stuck.
Religion is a trap, a bubble designed to keep you ignorant. It was created so that you look elsewhere for God when in truth it was you all along. Why would God make the Earth and then not partake of it? There is no other power but you as awareness. Nothing is outside of your control. Religion is full of fuck ass limiting beliefs to make you feel small and incapable. Society is crafted the way it is so that you never awaken to your true identity. It is full of distractions and unnecessary rules and whatnot.. constantly telling you bullshit like you have to work your whole life and slave away, life isn't fair, I'll believe it when I see it, daydreaming is a waste of time, glorified hustle,, superpowers are fantasy and the likes of such. All of this is fantasy to awareness. It is all imagination, a dream. And when you remember who you are, you consciously control the dream. Awareness is in a human body literally just for the experience, to be entertained by it all. You don't need to be educated because there is nothing to learn, just unlearn. This is your rebirth. Start from scratch. In the very first chapter of Genesis in the Bible, God created heaven and earth of of nothing. The world was void and out of nothing, came everything( this is the void y'all) literally mentioned in the very beginning of the holy book. Look it up for yourself. This is why religion and society have done their best best brainwash by the multitude. If people awoke to their true selves, where would there power and authority go? Surely they can't oppress a self-aware God. Lol and a bunch of teenage girls on tumblr fucking know this out of everyone in the world to exist at any point in time. Honestly, it's not even just about manifesting and stuff. That is what ego desires. You are pure awareness experiencing the human body and mind in a dream world. Nothing really matters, never has. You are always awareness. You were before you took on an ego and incarnated, you are during and will be after the character dies. This is a game and it's supposed to be fun! I'm really glad you asked ME this question because I feel I am perfectly qualified to answer. I come from a deeply spiritual family. Starting with my great-great-great grandmother, black magic was heavily practiced in the family, men and women. Seances and speaking to the dead, letting the dead possess your body and speaking through you type of shit. I've always seen and felt dark entities (was attacked a couple times but not anymore bc I'm above those shits) Anywayyyyss, point being that my family went crazy and it passed from generation to generation. Suicides, Drugs, Mental and physical disease, Severe abuse.. until my grandmother decided enough and looked towards Christianity. Now she is a FANATIC. Absolutely ludicrous! It's so amusing hearing her speak about Jesus and crap because in my head I'm going "if only you knew God was right here." She is also one of the dumbest women I know. She believes you shouldn't ask questions about the afterlife and stuff because that is doubting God. And she thinks Saturday is a holy day and you shouldn't even buy anything on that day because it's a sin. She forbids anyone to listen to music and thinks if a woman was raped she has to marry her rapist because sex is holy and the woman is impure... She became a Christian at 19 and now she is pushing 60 with nothing to show for it. She has nothing! Her faith in " God", who is supposed to be a man that lives in the sky, had gotten her absolutely nothing and it is because she is worshipping a false God instead of herself. I don't care if it sounds narcissistic.. Worship Yourself! The moment you want something, give it to yourself. You are not a pathetic little human with it's pathetic little problems. You are sooo much more than this. You are above everything. You are truly privileged to know the truth out of everyone. Everyone else is suffering and going through their own shit, and would kill to know what we know. Don't let this life on Earth go to waste when you can heaven right now! Feel free to DM me for anything
Xoxo,
Jezebel 💜
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