#Buying your first house in Kentucky

[kentuckybats]

Kentucky First-Time Homebuyer Loan

Qualifying for a Kentucky First-Time Homebuyer Loan: A Comprehensive Guide Buying your first home in Kentucky Is an exciting milestone, but the process can be daunting, especially when it comes to securing the right loan.  Kentucky First-time homebuyer loans are designed to help you navigate this process with ease, offering benefits like lower down payments, reduced interest rates, and more…

[sinon36]

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC

As I lay in bed, it's 5 am. My alarm is supposed to ring at 7 am. Insomnia hits again. So here we go! Enjoy the product of my foggy brain!

Warnings: fluff, some mentions of torture, curse words, insomnia, nightmares, threats, stalking but it's good natured, some mistakes ( grammar and spelling), interact at your own discretion.

-

When you first met it happened in the nonstop supermarket at the intersection a couple blocks from his apartment. It was 3 am. You were looking for coloured paper, he was looking for Kentucky burbon.

Both of you couldn't sleep for very different reasons. He just got back from a long mission, unable to sleep in his own bed, his own apartment, not as familiar as the base, always bustling with activity. The house was too quiet. Ears straining to hear something. An understimulated brain makes up sounds, that turn to memories, then night terrors. He was out in search of relief, getting so drunk he'd pass out and get some shut-eye.

You on the other hand were finishing up on materials for your little students. And then you needed coloured paper to finish. You huff and puff, and almost curse out but refrain from doing so, looking at your wristwatch you determine you have a few hours until the school day begins. Do you trudge to the intersection, hopping, begging for mercy and coloured paper.

You were the only ones there besides the half-asleep cashier. Your sound of triumph at having found what you're looking for travels to the liquor aisle. Simon's eyes point in your direction, not really sure he actually heard it or hallucinated it.

At the register, you cut him off not even noticing his dark-clad 6'3 body, whiskey bottle in hand. He let out a 'bloody hell', an almost whisper, but your teacher's instinct kicked in. 'Language' you'd said in a chastised voice eyes darting to fix him with a glare, the same you'd do to the children in class. But instead of a meager 'apologies, miss' you get a grunt out of him. You glare some more and turn away, making a barely audible comment directed at him. Naturally, he confronted you on that and you went on and gave him a lecture on how people like him make your work 10 times harder and how they are a bad example to future generations.

Both him and the cashier look at you like you've grown two heads. Honestly, the young guy behind the cash register, thought you might start a fight with the graveyard shift regular wearing a balaclava and buying alcohol well into the hours of morning.

But you didn't. After having said what you had to say you turned around on your heels, slapped the two packets of coloured paper in front of the young man, and then angrily put the money in his outstretched hand. You left in a flurry of murmurs, not even acknowledging the farewell words.

'feisty' he had commented eyes trailing on your departing figure. He chuckled at your interaction. That day he drank himself into unconsciousness thinking of you, and your plush lips spewing insults in his face, eyes alight with passion, face scrunched in barely contained annoyance.

You were a primary school teacher, that much he has gathered from your discourse. He wanted to see you again, and walking around aimlessly he came across the nearest school in the neighborhood. He started searching for your face behind closed windows. He had found you and waited for you, like the stalker that he'd turned into. He hoped you wouldn't call the cops on him.

As you near the gates, two rows of 3rd-year students behind you, loudly talking about how much fun they had with you. You laughed at their happy and springy attitude. They were the best students you've had so far.

And then your eyes met brown ones in a staring match. You'd walked closer starting to threaten him to go before you got him removed from the premises. He smiled under his balaclava, eyes watching in admiration. 'let's grab dinner...' he interrupted you. 'huh?' that was the most articulate answer you could muster. 'I owe you a proper apology. So dinner on me.' He explained in chopped sentences the voice deep and laced with a Manchester accent.

You forgot what you were saying and blushed hard, a cute smile plastered to your face. You were so easily swooned by this stranger and his interest in you. He could have been a killer or kidnapper. You threw caution to the wind. You said yes.

And now, now you were happily married, a couple years into it, actually. The house you bought is small but cosy. The living room table is always full of clippings of coloured paper and half finished materials strewn about. It's home for Simon.

He knows you're busy with schoolwork when he's deployed, so he doesn't worry about you missing him too much. But you do, and he misses you tenfold. So you make something for him, a little couloured origami frame that contains a picture of the two of you, for him to have. He carries it in his chest pocket, but only on base, where he knows it's safe to do so. Being captured with personal things like this in his possession could give the enemy leverage over him. He knows that, he's an expert in interrogation techniques. But he doesn't tell you all this, he knows you're sensitive to violence. So he instead promises that he will keep it close to his heart, all the time. His lucky charm. You're enamoured with him and he basks in your love without shame.

To be continued...

[bullet-prooflove]

"I know our stars were meant to align"

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fallmoreinloveeveryday @elenavampire21 @floralfloyd @lamaudite

Companion piece to:

Lucky - Tim's assignment doesn't go to plan.

Stars - Tim's not like the other guys.

The Good Book - Tim makes you a promise you don't think he can keep.

Bad Timing - You and Tim have always had a case of bad timing.

Straight From The Heart - Tim speaks from the heart during a late night phone call.

Missed Call - Tim's world crumbles when he listens to your voicemail.

Tim can still taste the blood, that copper tang coats his tongue as he sits in a hospital waiting room with his head in his hands.

It’s been three hours since he found you in that shitty flophouse, life spilling out through the bullet wound in your chest, your phone still clasped in your hand. He thought you were dead at first, your skin completely leached of colour, your breath barely existent. It wasn’t until he pressed his fingertips to your jugular that he detected the faint flutter of a pulse and that relief…

It snapped his training back into action.

His shirt was off in seconds, shoved urgently against the wound to stifle the surge of blood that erupted from your chest. In the background he could hear Raylan talking but his focus was on you, on that phone call the two of you had had last week about your transfer.

“I got the go ahead to move to Kentucky.” You’d told him over a crackling phone line because the shithole your residing in gets poor signal. “Once this assignments over we’ll finally be in the same place again.”

You’ve been in Louisiana ever since you left the service, an FBI field agent working out of New Orleans. Tim had hoped he’d be assigned there when he’d completed FLETC but they’d diverted him to Kentucky instead. The distance is nothing new but you’re both at a point where you want to put down roots and that’s almost impossible to do that when there’s 800 miles between the two of you.

“It looks like our stars are finally aligning Lucky.” He had said as he had surveyed his apartment with a critical eye.

He’d started looking at house listings the next day, trying to gauge a decent area for a good price. His plan had been to approach you about it once the assignment was over but then he’d got that voicemail and his whole world had come crashing down.

“Family of Ilana Jones?” A voice calls out.

He’s on his feet in an instant, tucking his hands into his pocket to hide the trembling. Sometimes he forgets you have a real name, not the one they gave you back in Afghanistan.

“Me.” He says his voice rough. “I’m her family.”

You’re like him in that way, parents dead, no siblings, alone in the world. Kindred spirits is what he’d thought the night you met.

“Is she…” He can’t bring himself to say the words because Tim, he can’t imagine a life without you, a world where you don’t exist.

“She made it through the surgery.” The doctor tells him, clutching a tablet to her chest. “We managed to remove the bullet and fix the damage. She’s a very lucky young woman, half an inch to the left and we would be having a very different conversation.”

There’s that word again, lucky.  

Tim doesn’t think luck had anything to do with it. He thinks you’re just that fucking good.

Love Tim? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lcandothisallday]

jack harlow masterlist!✨

Blurbs/Concepts

Pranking him with a pretend BJ

Reaction to someone sliding into your DM

Tension turned more

Movie night 1

Goofing around on live

Freezing hands

First date nerves

Jack playing Santa

Playing with his PG ring 2

Making fun of his Rudolph claymation crush

Tattling on Jack

Friends to Lovers 2

Stay the Night

Communication

Jack jealous of Urban and Clay

Jack asks his mom how to know if you’re in love

Late night FaceTime

Silly Childhood Crush - y/n has the opportunity to work with Harry Styles

Aftercare

More like you - in which your daughter starts to look more and more like Jack as she grows

Jack accusing you of losing his PG ring

Naming your baby after Urban

Argument with Jack in front of his friends

Jack’s birthday

Play fighting with Jack

Jack spotting you in the crowd of his show

Princess- your older daughter is jealous of her newborn sister

Rough Nights - Pent up frustrations leads to the boys breaking down in your arms

Jack FaceTiming you late a night after having a bad day

Fics

Hesitant - where Jack asks you to move in

Perfect - late night drives

Funny Seeing you Here part 1

Different Light part 1 part 2

Storm into my heart

I’m Yours

Instagram Live part 2 part 3

Full time Home - Jack buys a house without consulting with you first

Unfair - reader hires Urban for a project (some f!reader x urban)

Glancing your Way - you and Jack keep making eye contact at a party

Red Carpet Lovers part 2 - going to the met gala with Jack

Highschool Sweethearts - Jack discusses on an interview how you and him met

Dancing Queen - Giving Jack head after his Grammys performance

Birthday Girl - It’s your birthday and Jack claims he isn’t able to make it but he actually has a few tricks up his sleeves

Fireworks - Joining Jack in Kentucky to watch the fireworks

Right Person Wrong Time part 2 - Jack has a history with Urban’s younger sister

Lil Secret - where a couple photos of you and Jack surface and he gets asked about it in an interview

Advice - Jack’s mom gives him advice

Moving On - You break up with Jack

Drunk in Love - Joking around on a yacht with Jack

Not that Simple part 1 part 2

Someone Better - Jack is in love with you and he has to see you with another guy

One Bed - Enemies to lovers have to share a bed

Cute when you’re Jealous - Reader is jealous

Hurt - Jack wants to keep your relationship secret

Pretty Views - Reader admires Jack while he reminisces on his accomplishements. Lead up to sexy times

Promises - Reader and Jack used to date and his mom tries to get you two back together

Court Side Butterflies

Wedding Season - where Jack is convinced to bring the reader (the girl he hates) as his plus one to a wedding

Ice Skating Date

jeremy wmcj✨

Blurbs

Couple's Yoga

Post ACL Surgery Confessions

Jeremy sees you at a pickup game and shows off to flirt

Jealous Jeremy

Juice

Fool for you

Silent Treatment

[falloutjuli]

Back on my shitposting Bullshit. This posts theme is something I had already done on my older writing blog and I always love making headcanons so here it is for JJBA. (Jodio not included yet)

 Feel free to drop in my ask box if you miss any character and wanna hear what I think or for literally anything else. (Please remeber to not send in too many charcters, Ill set the limit for now at 6)

Anyways, I hope yall get a kick out of my funky ideas. 

----------------------

1-8 JoJo’s x Reader - Playing Animal Crossing Together

Wordcount:

Short summary: My personal headcanons on the JoJo’s playing Animal Crossing with references to you and their friends.

Warnings: None. Only wholesomeness here., except for Joseph srynotsry

-----------------------

Jonathan:

Loves it, huge fan of the tiny wholesome animal game.

Speedwagon showed it to him, knowing Jonathan would love it.

Jonathan puts a big effort into keeping his island pretty, villagers happy, filling the museum, sending gifts and letters to his friends and you.

Most wholesome player you'll ever encounter, that happily trades anything he has.

Loves to buy furniture and clothing for you to surprise you with it.

 🌟

Joseph:

Wasn’t that big into it until he discovered the custom pattern function.

Now he's a menace, using loads of cursed patterns to paint his island in and give his villagers ugly shirts.

His own character wears a "Pussy Master" shirt.

Will visit Caesar’s and your island just to mess with you and gift your villagers ugly clothing and furniture.

Avid time skipper.

Biggest troll you two know and yet you love him.

  🌟

Jotaro:

Not interested, didn't know what it was until he saw you having fun with it.

He asked Kakyoin what the game is, and he happily showed Jotaro.

Jotaro eventually surprises you with a friend request on your switch.

He doesn't do much around his island, just places some stuff here and there.

Is absolutely obsessed over aquatic Villagers and filling the fish part of the museum to take pictures there with you.

  🌟

Josuke:

Organized Town, pretty layout, casual player that takes his time to slowly work towards everything.

Will make his house gaming themed.

One part of the island is dedicated to recreating the cafe and fill it with references to you and his other friends.

Eager to get his friendship up with all his villagers, loves to give them gift and talks to them daily.

Loves the Nookmile tickets/ Kapp'n trips and goes on them whenever he can.

  🌟

Giorno:

Froggy Chair obsessed.

Owns the Sanrio Amiibo cards and decorates with it.

Also has all the villager amiibo cards and everyone is welcome to borrow them to get their favorites on their respective islands.

Loves the museum and eagerly works on filling it, gifting anything he already has to you.

Cute natural island theme with loads of plants and occasional duplicated statues spread around.

Made a cute park for you that has lots of hybrid flowers and cutesy furniture.

Loves all villagers, but his favorites are the frogs.

  🌟

Jolyne:

Surprisingly organized in a sense?

Like you, Ermes, FF and her share a group chat where everyone posts their newest decoration updates, what villagers moved in and might move out, turnip prices.

You trade furniture for the catalog and help each other's museum, teamwork makes the dream work.

Loads of pictures of you four hanging out in the coffeeshop.

One room in her house is dedicated to you and filled with references to your relationship.

Anasui is banned from all islands, and you designed a custom pattern with his face and a red X on it that all of you have next to your airport.

  🌟

Johnny:

Johnny wasn't big into it at first and then got completely hooked.

Only Horse and Mouse villagers.

Western themed all the way. Kentucky state flag as his island flag.

Loves Gyroids and has multiple in each room.

Gyro and he trade furniture and ignore the museum completely. They are only interested in decorating their homes and island to have it perfect.

Made it big with turnips but refuses to explain to Gyro how it works.

  🌟

Gappy:

Was confused at first why you liked the game so much.

Yasuho and you made him his sailor outfit and buy him some furniture to start him up with.

You two explain the whole concept roughly to him and then let him play.

You never expected him to figure it out super quickly and making loads of money with turnips.

His house was upgraded faster than yours and Yasuho’s, he began making his own custom paths, made an orchard on his island.

He quickly takes a huge liking to the game and loves everything about it.

He leaves the island largely as it is, the only stuff he really decorates are his house, the orchard (reminiscent of the Higashikata one) and the little area with his villagers.

The rooms in his house are all dedicated to a person that he then decorates accordingly to. (You, Yasuho, Holly, the Higashikata Family etc)

[sneetsnootyoit]

Hate to Love You

Chapter 1

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) Canon-typical violence, rough sex, sort of enemies to lovers, some humiliation, face-slapping, Jack Daniels is a switch, smut obviously, oral sex, face sitting, hair pulling, dirty talk, you two get snowed in, reader has chronic pain and uses marijuana byproducts, multiple orgasms, degradation, praise kink, begging, P in V sex, NO USE ON Y/N

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I have been working on this fic for so long and if nobody likes it I might actually cry

Tag list: @str84pedro @ariundercovers @ezras--moon

1 2 3 4

When you joined the Statesmen, your goal was to live up to your mother’s legacy. She was known as ‘Agent Bourbon,’ and she was one of the best they had. When you were growing up, she taught you everything you’d need to know to be an agent under the guise of ‘self defense,  because the world was a dangerous place. When she started teaching you how to use weapons, your suspicions began, and because she had taught you so well, it didn’t take you very long to discover the true nature of the distillery she worked for.

When you confronted her, instead of being angry with you for spying on her, she was incredibly proud, because it told her that you knew how to utilize the skills she taught you. She was completely transparent with you, but had you swear that you would keep the secret, and in return, she would teach you to be an agent. As soon as you were old enough, she convinced Champ to bring you in as a junior agent. You worked as a surveillance agent and they called you ‘Tonic.’ You hated it, because it meant you wouldn’t be working in the field. Your mother promised you that you would get the chance to be a field agent when you got older, and she was right, but unfortunately, she wasn’t there when you finally became one.

When you became a field agent, your name went from being ‘Tonic’ to ‘Bourbon.’ You were working from the Kentucky office while your mother was in the field on the day she died. For the longest time, you blamed yourself, claiming that you were the cause of her death. It took almost three years to be convinced that it was something completely out of your control. When it happened, almost everyone came to offer their condolences, although most seemed to be simple formalities, there were a few that seemed genuine.

A year after your mother’s death, you asked Champ to transfer you. Home office had too many memories, and you needed a fresh start. You packed up the house and sold it, buying a place in New York with the money from the house and the money you made at Statesmen. Champ sent agents to help you move, and they helped you get your new place set up. It was a decent-sized condo with a wonderful view of the city. 

That was the start of your new life, and you were ready to work hard to become just as amazing as your mother. At first, Agent Whiskey refused to let you go on field missions, but when Champ chewed him out, he had to start sending you out. It didn’t take long for him to realize that your mother trained you well, and you were a force to be reckoned with. It started off fine, but over the years, you began to grow weary of him. He was the most annoying thing in the world to you. The two of you would be in the middle of a mission, and he’d be flirting with you through your comms. At first, it was charming and it made you feel giddy inside, but when you realized that it wasn’t just you he was constantly flirting with, you grew tired. Aside from the flirting, he was a damn good agent. He’d flip between telling you how pretty your eyes were and how well he’d treat you if you gave him a chance and slicing people in half with his electric lasso, back to back with you while you shattered someone’s skull with your meteor hammer.

It continued like that for years, and got to the point when annoyance became hatred. You despised working with him, and you often told people you would rather chew off your own foot than choose to be on a mission with Whiskey. And yet Champ kept sending you on missions with him. You had to remain professional and tolerate him while you were working together, but as soon as the mission was over, you kept your distance, and when he bothered you, you regularly told him to eat shit. You weren’t sure when you fell for him, but when you realized you had, you decided to mask it with an extra dose of ‘I hate you,’ and you made sure he was well aware of just how much you hated him. The more you expressed your hate, the more determined his flirting became, and it was a vicious cycle of hate and flirting between the two of you.

That was how you ended up in what you considered to be in both the best and worst predicament you’d ever been in.

You and Agent Whiskey were out on a mission up in the mountains. You were infiltrating a facility that had sensitive information they’d stolen from the Statesmen. Your job was to eliminate the threat and get the files returned to Champ’s office, erasing the rest. It was going just fine at first. You’d cleared your path to the main control room and you were in the process of getting all the files downloaded and erased while Whiskey was taking out the remaining targets (although you told him to wait until you were finished so you could go together) when Ginger Ale alerted you that he was in trouble. She showed you the feed from his glasses and you audibly groaned.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Whiskey?!” You exclaimed, slamming your fist onto the console.

“It’s not my fault these fuckers ambushed me, sugar,” he replied, his usual arrogance very present in his tone. He was trying very hard not to sound bothered by the situation he'd gotten himself in.

“See, to me, it looks like you don’t need any help-”

“Because I don’t! I told Ginger to call you and tell you that you looked good in that snowsuit.”

You groaned again and shook your head. “One, shut the fuck up, you fucking pig. Two, your feed absolutely tells me otherwise!” You yelled, looking at the computer to see how close you were to being done with transferring and wiping the files. They were almost done, and you sighed. “Can you manage to stay alive for maybe five more minutes?”

You didn’t get an answer, and you were concerned for only a moment because a couple minutes after you asked that question, the door behind you burst open, and there was Whiskey with a trail of gunfire behind him. 

“You fuck!” You screamed, ducking down to avoid getting shot while you pulled your gun from your bag. You pressed yourself against the wall while you loaded the magazine into the weapon, before peeking around the doorframe, taking aim and shooting different targets. You watched them fall one-by-one while Whiskey used his lasso on those you weren’t taking out (he’d apparently run out of ammo). Ginger wasn’t joking when she said he was in trouble, and Whiskey wasn’t joking when he said he was ambushed. When the last person you could see was cut in half, you lowered your weapon and breathed out, scanning the hallway for movement while listening for footsteps. Whiskey opened his mouth to speak and you punched him in the face, glaring at him with a ‘shut the fuck up’ look.

You didn’t hear any movement, so you quietly made your way back to the computer. You watched the 99% become 100%, then you took the hard drive and stuck it in one of your pockets. Even though the computer had been completely wiped, you were told not to leave any risk for recovery, so you used the weight of your meteor hammer to smash open the main panel and you began to place the explosive charges Ginger had given to you inside the console. 

While you were angrily working, Whiskey was still standing in the same spot he was in when you punched him, flabbergasted (and a little turned on). You’d never actually hit him before. You always threatened, but never actually did it. What he was going to tell you was that on his way back to you, he’d trailed his own charges throughout the building and they were on a timer. When he saw you placing yours, it reminded him that he had something important to tell you, but first he gathered what little equipment you brought and he grabbed your arm once you’d finished. “We have to get out of here! The place is gonna blow any second!” He whispered to you, making your face go white.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?!” 

“You punched me before I could!”

“Yeah, because I was listening for footsteps! You could’ve told me when you saw me- fucking nevermind,” you huffed, running through the hallways with your weapons at the ready, Agent Whiskey in tow.

The two of you barely made it out before the whole place exploded behind you, taking your escape vehicle with it, and you ended up getting knocked down into the snow. As soon as you were able to get your bearings, you noticed the clouds in the sky. “Fucking hell…great! Just fucking great! Ginger, find me a cabin or a building as close as fucking possible. Based on the way the sky is looking, we’re in for a fucking blizzard and I’ll be damned if I die in the snow.”

Whiskey stared at you, astonished and enamored, not really listening to what Ginger had to say as he followed you. He wasn’t paying attention to anything other than you. He was admiring your beauty and skill, trying his best not to get an erection when the memory of you punching him in the face crossed his mind. Fuck, that was hot, he thought, trying to even out his labored breaths.

You were following Ginger’s directions to an abandoned cabin that belonged to a dead man, walking as fast as you could through the snow so you could find shelter before the blizzard started. Luckily for the two of you, when you arrived, it was evident that the man had recently died, because the cabin still had furniture and firewood. You made Whiskey bring the firewood inside while you continued to talk to Ginger about when you’d be able to be extracted. She told you that by the time they got an extraction team out there, the blizzard would have most likely begun by then, so you and Whiskey had to wait out the blizzard and stay in the cabin until it was safe for the extraction team to come get you. While you talked to Ginger, Whiskey worked on getting a fire started, that way there would at least have some heat in the cabin. You told Ginger you were going to try and get some rest before you took your glasses off and tucked them away somewhere safe, and Whiskey did the same.

“You know, this would be a great time for-”

“Don’t you ever shut up?!” You snapped, glaring at him.

He looked surprised for just a second before his signature smirk appeared on his face and he chuckled. “You’ll have to make me, darlin’. I’m not-”

“Shut the fuck up! For fuck’s sake! You could’ve gotten both of us killed! What were you thinking, bringing those guys back to me? Your job was to-”

“Take a breath, sugar. It’s okay, we’ve got plenty of time to-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, looking at him with a fury that he’d never seen before burning in your eyes. “Just fucking stop! Shit! It’s not okay! What the fuck is wrong with you? When I started working for Statesmen with my Mom, I thought you were some cool, cute, older guy that worked with her, and I was going to be able to work alongside you and be just as amazing as she was! And then I start actually working with you and all you do is fucking flirt!”

He was taken aback by your outburst, and you were fully expecting him to apologize, or at least stop acting like an idiot, but you were very wrong. “You thought I was cool? And cute?”

“What the f- That’s what you take away from that?! For fuck’s sake! This is why I fucking hate you!”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“Wh- really? You really don’t know why?! You don’t take anything seriously when we work together, and you’re always fucking flirting! You walk around with this arrogant ‘I can do anything’ look, and you act all suave, and you look at me with that smug fucking smile and your stupid eyes looking at me like I’m everything you’ve ever fucking dreamed of. You act serious every so often and then you’re out making sexual innuendos at me and at Ginger and you’re just a stupid fucking whore! Or at least that’s what you fucking act like.” 

By the end of your rant, you were panting and trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest from the rush of adrenaline you’d just received. Whiskey slowly approached you and stood in front of you with that exact smug grin on his face that you were complaining about. “Did that make you feel better, darlin’?”

That was what did it for you. You growled at him as you grabbed him by the lapels of his snowsuit and you slammed him against the wall, knocking off his hat and making the decorations on the wall shake. When his back hit the wall, all of the air was knocked out of his lungs and it pushed out an involuntary moan. While you had him pinned to the wall, you gave him an incredulous look. 

“Did you just fucking moan?” You asked, a bewildered laugh passing through your lips. “What, you like this shit? You like being thrown around?” 

Your words were making Whiskey feel hot, even though the cabin was freezing cold, and he could feel himself growing hard under his snowsuit, praying you wouldn’t notice, but you did. “Wh- are you hard right now? Holy shit, you are!” You exclaimed, reaching down to roughly squeeze his thick cock through the suit. Whiskey let out a choked moan and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. You had to pretend you weren't impressed by what you had in your hand. "You really are a whore. A pathetic little slut.”

Whiskey’s breaths were coming out ragged and it was taking everything for him not to whimper as you squeezed his dick. Both fortunately and unfortunately, his resolve faltered and a small sound escaped him, making you raise your eyebrows. “Oh, fuck it,” you said brusquely, fisting a hand in his hair and crashing your lips into his. Whiskey let out a surprised gasp when the two of you connected, turning into a moan when your other hand was replaced by your thigh pressing against his crotch. With your other hand free, you wrapped it around his throat, but you didn’t squeeze. You parted for only a moment to breathe, then you recaptured his lips, biting at his split lip (split from when you punched him). You pressed yourself harder against him and he moaned again, allowing you to push your tongue into his mouth. He immediately surrendered to you and you could taste his blood while you explored the wet cavern. His hands slowly moved up to grasp your hips and you pulled away from him, giving his hair a sharp tug. Now that there was enough space to see each others’ faces, you could see the desperate need and complete adoration in his eyes, and he could see the anger on your face, and the desire in yours.

"Do you want this?" You asked him, and he nodded fervently. He opened his mouth to say something else, but you didn’t give him time to speak as you began dragging him to where you assumed the bedroom was, but when you opened the door, you found that it was actually the bathroom. You let out an annoyed groan and opened the next door, revealing the quaint bedroom, and you pushed him in, towards the bed. He started trying to remove your clothes and you slapped him, then grabbed him by his face, squeezing his cheeks. “You get what I give you, understand? You’re not the one in control here, you fucking slut.”

Whiskey let out what sounded like a squeak and nodded as best he could while he was in your grasp. You released him so you could begin undressing him, quickly and with precision. Even in your lustful state, you were still able to remove his clothing without fumbling over every zipper, buckle, and button. When you had him down to just his boxers, you shoved him towards the bed and nodded towards it. “Get on the bed.”

He nodded again and sat in the middle of the bed, waiting patiently for your next instruction while he watched you. You pushed him to lay back while you began taking off your own clothes, but only a little at a time. First, your boots and your snowsuit, then your pants and socks. You stood there in your shirt and underwear and looked him over with a scrutinous gaze. You could see just how hard he was with the tent in his boxers and the little wet spot on the fabric that covered his tip. You hummed and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist and hovering over him. He was flushed and already panting, hands gripping the blankets on the bed with the effort he was putting forth to not touch you. He’d already made that mistake once, and even though he liked when you smacked him around, he didn’t want to risk you deciding to stop.

You slowly began to inch your way up the bed, crawling forward until you were just above his chest. You had him move his arms so you could situate yourself above his face, and you stayed there, teasing him and once again getting confirmation. “You fucking want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, looking into your eyes.

“Then fucking beg for it.”

His eyes widened and his cock twitched, the very thought of having to beg you to let him touch you making him want you even more. You were both extremely aware of the fact that if he truly wanted to, he could flip you over and take control. But he didn’t. He was letting you do this, and there was a part of you deep inside that felt warm at the thought that Agent Whiskey trusted you enough to give you control like that.

“Please,” he begged, his voice wavering and needy. "Bourbon, please let me taste you. Sit on my face and use me to make you feel good. Shit, I need to know what you taste like…what you sound like when I shove my tongue in your pussy. I’ll give- fuck, I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good for you, I swear. Just, please…”

Fuck, he’s hot when he begs…

You hummed and looked like you were considering your options before you looked back down at him. “If you can get my underwear off without making me get up, I’ll let you taste me,” you challenged, a smirk on your face as you watched the wheels turn in his head. When you saw the little lightbulb go off, you were curious what he would do, and you yelped as he grabbed the fabric and literally tore it off you. He practically shredded the garment, and once he managed to snap the elastic, he tossed it to the floor and looked up at you, waiting. You couldn’t mask your surprise, so you let him see it before giving him a smirk and began to lower yourself down. His eyes were drawn to your core and his cock twitched at the sight of it. You stopped when you were just barely hovering over his mouth and he looked up to ask why you stopped when you spoke. “Make me cum and I’ll let you fuck me,” you told him, waiting for him to nod and accept yet another challenge.

Based on his arrogant attitude, you figured that he was all talk, or that he’d at least not be that great at giving head, but you were very wrong. When he opened his mouth for you and you lowered yourself down, he seemed like he was in home territory. He pressed his tongue into you and moaned deeply, making you gasp as you felt his mustache rubbing against your clit. He could tell how wet you’d started to get and he had to stop himself from smirking against you. He did so by dragging his tongue through your folds and circling around your clit, pulling it into his mouth to pay it some extra attention. You groaned from above him and braced a hand on the wall while the other reached down to tug on his hair, making him moan again. You ground yourself down against his mouth and he moved back down to lick long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on Earth. 

You moaned when he pressed his tongue inside you again and nosed at your clit, making you keen above him. You held onto his hair tightly and squeezed his head with your legs, not caring whether he could breathe or not. Whiskey was enjoying every second and he felt like he could cum just from this, without touching himself at all. He had to fight it as he continued to work you towards your edge. He used his tongue to fuck you and you felt his teeth scrape over your most sensitive parts. It was the most amazing you’d ever experienced and you could feel yourself getting closer. You started grinding on his face again, holding him by his hair so you could chase your finale. You were a mess above him, panting and moaning while your other hand stayed on the wall, and Whiskey could feel it when you came, the way you twitched above him and your moans became more guttural. He continued to eat you, because he felt as if he couldn’t get enough, and you had to pull him away from you while you caught your breath. 

When your breathing had evened out, you slowly scooted back down his torso, pulling off your shirt in the process, and everything underneath it. Whiskey moaned at the sight of you, and he raised his hands up, but they only hovered over your thighs, and he gave you a pleading look. “Please, let me touch you.”

You placed your hands on his wrists and guided them onto your waist before you leaned down to kiss him. This one was less rough and more hungry, and you could taste yourself on his lips. Whiskey began to roam your body with his hands, dragging his rough fingertips over the smooth skin of your back and shoulders, running his fingers through your hair and caressing you gently. You wanted to melt into his touch, but you were still pissed about him fucking up the mission. You allowed him to explore for a moment more before you sat back up and unmounted him, kneeling next to him. "Get up. Show me that dick isn't just there for decoration," you ordered, eyes trailing down to his painfully hard erection. "I hope you're as good at fucking as you are at eating pussy."

When given the permission, Whiskey got up and made room for you to lay down on the bed. You spread your legs for him while you got comfortable and you watched him remove his boxers and toss them to the floor. "You don't have a-"

"It's fine. Quit procrastinating and prove to me that you're not all talk, Agent Whiskey."

"Yes ma’am," he replied, pumping his cock a few times before he rubbed his head through your folds. You jumped a little at the feeling, and you opened your mouth in a silent moan when he started to push in. He was big, and the stretch was painful, but it hurt so good. He took it slow and held your thighs while he kept pushing, watching your reactions while he filled you up. He fed it to you, inch by inch, and his eyes darted between your face and your core as it swallowed his cock. When he reached the hilt, he shuddered and moaned, squeezing your thighs. "Fuck, that's so good…so fuckin' tight."

He was giving you a moment to adjust to his size while his hands began exploring your torso again, carefully palming your breasts. He brushed his thumbs over your nipples and they hardened under his touch. You clenched your walls around him when he dragged his tongue over one of your nipples and he bucked into you, fingers toying with the other. You arched into him and huffed. "You gonna just sit there or are you gonna fuck me?"

He took that as an invitation and he began to move slowly while trailing kisses up to your jaw, rolling his hips with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back your moans when you felt the way he was stretching you open, arms on either side of your head to keep him stable. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he murmured, nipping and kissing whatever skin he could reach. 

His thrusts started to pick up speed and you gasped when you felt him hit a spot inside that made you see stars. You let your noises flow freely while you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him a new angle to fuck you in. He started hitting that spot more frequently and you arched your back, a high-pitched sound emanating from your mouth. You started to roll your hips in time with his thrusts when they started to increase in pace. "Oh shit, fuck yeah…Oh fuck, yes just like that," you moaned, pulling Whiskey down so you could suck a mark onto his neck, not caring about the fact that it would definitely be visible. He groaned at the pain of your teeth digging into him and his speed began to increase. 

Even though you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got you in bed, he was making you feel so good that you didn’t even care. You moaned against his neck as he pounded into you and your fingers found their way back into his hair. You pulled on it and at the same time, he grabbed your legs and pushed your knees up so he could hook your legs over his shoulders. You practically mewled as his cock started to hit that spot that made you see stars over and over, pounding deeply into you. You were pulling his hair so hard that you were almost pulling it out, and Whiskey loved it. He continued his pace, getting rougher with every thrust until the bed was thudding loudly against the wall. 

You had moved your head to the other side of his neck and you were panting and moaning in his ear while you listened to him babble in yours. "Oh fuck…Bourbon, you feel so fucking good…wanna fuck you like this all the time…fuck pull my hair harder…please…oh fuck, just like that…you're so fucking perfect, I fucking love this pussy."

While you listened, you could feel a second orgasm building inside you and you were desperately trying to get there, doing everything you could to get him to fuck you harder. "Fucking hell... oh fuck, right there…oh my g- oh fuck, yes, right there, good boy, yes! Fuck…harder, fuck me harder," you said to him, fingers gripping him tightly.

Being called a 'good boy' awoke something in Whiskey that he hadn't been aware of before, and he fucking loved it. He did exactly what you asked, keeping the same pace but thrusting harder, drilling into you at a pace that left you almost screaming. 

"Fuckfuckfuck, yes! Fuck, that's so fucking good! Oh fuck, you're such a good boy…shit, Jack, I'm gonna fucking cum!" 

That was the first time you ever called him by his name instead of 'Agent Whiskey,' and he loved the sound of his name coming from your mouth. He loved the way you praised him and he was so close.

He let his forehead drop to your shoulder and he panted heavily, almost whining against you and he moaned out your name. Not 'Bourbon'. Your name. After he said it once, he started repeating it over and over like a prayer, moans turning to whimpers as he released inside you, and you groaned when you felt him begin to spill inside you. Then you realized he was about to stop and you squeezed him with your legs. "Don't fucking stop, don't you fucking stop!" You demanded, chasing your orgasm that was sitting right on the edge.

Whiskey moaned out your name again, in the most pathetic way, and you came hard, your walls clamping down around him while you bit into his shoulder, stifling the loud, guttural moan that ripped through you. Whiskey's thrusts slowed to a stop and you both stayed there for a second before he carefully released your legs, helping you to drop them back at his sides. You were sweaty and the cold air of the cabin suddenly hit both of you, making you shiver.

You slowly sat up and clenched as you let Whiskey’s softening cock slip out of you, trying desperately to avoid leaking any cum out while you made your way to the bathroom. It was always a good idea to pee after sex so you didn't get a UTI. 

After you used the restroom and you were sure all of the cum leaked out, you went to go wash your hands and try to sleep. You hated sleeping in day clothes, and you'd rather sleep naked than wear the clothes you had to bed. When you exited the bathroom, you started to feel that dull, all too familiar ache in your bones that would soon be vibrating and pulsing throughout most of your body. Hopefully sleep will help, you thought to yourself as you saw Whiskey sitting on the side of the bed, starting to put his clothes back on. 

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm getting dressed so I can go sleep on the couch."

You paused for a second, hating what you were about to say, but excited at the thought. "The fuck you are. Pull the sheets back and get in that damn bed," you said harshly, pulling the curtains over the windows to block the extra light, since there wasn't a light switch to turn off lights.

Whiskey gave you a confused look and you gave him an expectant one while you climbed into the bed. When he joined you, you grabbed his hip and pulled him close, pressing your front against his back. You pulled the blankets up around you and you held him in your arms, breathing against the back of his neck. He shivered and was about to say something when you interrupted, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back. "Don't say a fucking word." 

You could feel his attempt at a nod and you released his head, wrapping your arms around him again as you murmured "go the fuck to sleep."

—-----------------------

A few hours into the night, you're awoken from a dead sleep by the creaking of the cabin, the sound of the wind outside, and the sharp pains shooting through your nerves. Whiskey was still fast asleep, but the fire was almost out. You could feel it in the lack of warmth. Reluctantly, you left the comfort of the bed to go investigate the strange creaking sounds, put more wood on the fire, and look through your bag to see if you packed emergency anything. Digging through the bag, you managed to find a bottle of your THC oil that you made, but you were almost out. You sighed and unscrewed the dropper and put a few drops under your tongue, letting them soak in while you put the bottle away. You also got out your glasses to see if Ginger left any messages, and there were a couple, but they made your stomach drop.

20:07 - It looks like the blizzard is going to be a heavy one. It may be a few hours or even a few days before we can get you.

21:43 - I think you might end up getting snowed in. I'm so sorry.

23:58 - We're going to have to dig you out when the weather dies down. Don't kill Agent Whiskey, please.

You groaned as you read the messages on the display of the glasses and you took them off, putting them back. After you made sure the fire was going again, you went to go check one of the windows, but you couldn’t see anything because of how bad the snow was. You couldn’t tell if you were snowed in or not, but regardless, you despised the idea of being stuck in a cabin with Whiskey. It wasn’t just because it was Whiskey, either. It was because just like him, you were almost head over heels in fucking love with him, except you hated it. You hated the idea of someone making you so vulnerable, so you masked it with hatred because you'd be damned if you let another loved one die. Since you'd already crossed the line you'd drawn by sleeping with him, then sharing a bed with him afterwards, you were afraid you'd let your feelings slip out. You had to come up with a plan, but at the same time, you were cold and wanted to go back to bed. 

It was decided that while you were laying in bed, you would come up with a plan, so you got back under the blankets and got comfortable, facing away from Whiskey. Unfortunately for you, at that moment, he turned over in his sleep and unconsciously pulled you to him, holding you close in his arms. You hated that you loved it, and you had to fight the urge to turn and punch him. You eventually let yourself relax under his touch and you started to drift off while you were trying to plan how you'd avoid accidentally revealing your feelings. The plan was to continue pretending you hate him, same as before, and definitely not sleep with him again.

[shakespeare-official-account]

That's it, I'm buying 50000 strands of garlic, 5000000000 things of salt, 5000000000000000 crucifixes, and 50000000000000000000000 mirrors-

Also, I'm sleeping with one eye open-

your car is smoking

Anon come back with a mega-copypasta

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

#not my smile inc

jokes on you i don't have organs >:)

I think you may have forgotten “Own a musket for home defense, since that's what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my powdered wig and Kentucky rifle. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because it's smoothbore and nails the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grape shot, "Tally ho lads" the grape shot shreds two men in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. Fix bayonet and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He Bleeds out waiting on the police to arrive since triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founding fathers intended.”

I cited the fourth amendment word for word and also sourced it on the poll 💀

(I am now a true American RAAAAAAH 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅)

Irizz

Hey, hey look! Hey look! Look. glass jar

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Writing's not that easy, but Grammarly can help. This sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read. It undermines the writer's message, and the word choice is bland. Grammarly's cutting-edge technology helps you craft compelling, understandable writing that makes an impact on your reader.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

What is a spoon, little spoon

what is spoon, little

Spoon little is what? Up

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once-

talk to the hand cause the face doesn't wanna hear it-

Postman, postman

Turned the entire neighborhood into beans

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he’ll turn your kidneys into kidney beans

Zoozve

Gaynamede

Irizz

мый тыйым ебать пычал дене лӱйкалем

What's up guys, it's Quandale Dingle here

REEHEHEHEHEHE

skibidi i will eat your lungs and send the ducklings after you ebony raven darkness dementia way is going to buy you clothes the rizz shall microwave thee

[the-state-of-georgia-official]

Stress-

Must cope by sending links and copypastas-

https://heywise.com/quiz/which-greek-god-are-you-descended-from/?hwscore=1

https://mangadex.org/title/c52565c9-d99a-4380-9dc8-67369d448eb7/mahou-shoujo-madoka-magica?order=asc

https://youtu.be/iLON_TjyRwY?si=-nONgalvixisLnXN

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsandbubbletea/765810823901921280/fanfic-i-wrote-while-feeling-silly-in-art-class?source=share

What's up guys! It's Quandale Dingle here! (RUUEHEHEHEHEHEEHE) I have been arrested for multiple crimes (AHHHHHHHHHHHHH) including: Battery on a police officer (WHAT), Grand theft, Declaring war on Italy, and public indecency (RUHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE X2 speed). I will be escaping prison on, MARCH 28TH! After that.... I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD

That's it, I'm buying 50000 strands of garlic, 5000000000 things of salt, 5000000000000000 crucifixes, and 50000000000000000000000 mirrors-

Also, I'm sleeping with one eye open-

your car is smoking

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

#not my smile inc

jokes on you i don't have organs >:)

I think you may have forgotten “Own a musket for home defense, since that's what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my powdered wig and Kentucky rifle. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because it's smoothbore and nails the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grape shot, "Tally ho lads" the grape shot shreds two men in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. Fix bayonet and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He Bleeds out waiting on the police to arrive since triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founding fathers intended.”

I cited the fourth amendment word for word and also sourced it on the poll 💀

(I am now a true American RAAAAAAH 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅)

Irizz

Hey, hey look! Hey look! Look. glass jar

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Writing's not that easy, but Grammarly can help. This sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read. It undermines the writer's message, and the word choice is bland. Grammarly's cutting-edge technology helps you craft compelling, understandable writing that makes an impact on your reader.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

What is a spoon, little spoon

what is spoon, little

Spoon little is what? Up

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once-

talk to the hand cause the face doesn't wanna hear it-

Postman, postman

Turned the entire neighborhood into beans

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he’ll turn your kidneys into kidney beans

Zoozve

Gaynamede

Irizz

мый тыйым ебать пычал дене лӱйкалем

What's up guys, it's Quandale Dingle here

REEHEHEHEHEHE

You know I gets my pimpin' on

Oh shit ain't that your dude?

Yeah I be pimpin' all these hoes

Fool that was way back in highschool

You knows I get my pimp-

Wait,

Waitwaitwait wait wait wait

Svesta is that you- You, you, you, YOU?

What up Lucious?

That's PIMP, Lucious

Don't get it twisted 😤

MAN HE CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANT-

Aahhhh AIN'T NO ONE TALKIN' TO YOU MACHO MAN-

Man you dumb wan wacka-off man I will

WAAAAAAHAAAAA AAAA-

Anon come back with a mega-copypasta

What's up guys, it's Quandale Dingle here

REEHEHEHEHEHE

#not my smile inc

jokes on you i don't have organs >:)

I think you may have forgotten “Own a musket for home defense, since that's what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my powdered wig and Kentucky rifle. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because it's smoothbore and nails the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grape shot, "Tally ho lads" the grape shot shreds two men in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. Fix bayonet and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He Bleeds out waiting on the police to arrive since triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founding fathers intended.”

I cited the fourth amendment word for word and also sourced it on the poll 💀

(I am now a true American RAAAAAAH 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅)

Irizz

Hey, hey look! Hey look! Look. glass jar

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Writing's not that easy, but Grammarly can help. This sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read. It undermines the writer's message, and the word choice is bland. Grammarly's cutting-edge technology helps you craft compelling, understandable writing that makes an impact on your reader.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

people in NASA be having orgy's whilst people in earth are stuck with puritans 🙁🙁🙁🙁😔😔😔😔😔😔

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

What is a spoon, little spoon

what is spoon, little

Spoon little is what? Up

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once-

talk to the hand cause the face doesn't wanna hear it-

Zoozve

Gaynamede

Irizz

You know I gets my pimpin' on

Oh shit ain't that your dude?

Yeah I be pimpin' all these hoes

Fool that was way back in highschool

You knows I get my pimp-

Wait,

Waitwaitwait wait wait wait

Svesta is that you- You, you, you, YOU?

What up Lucious?

That's PIMP, Lucious

Don't get it twisted 😤

MAN HE CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANT-

Aahhhh AIN'T NO ONE TALKIN' TO YOU MACHO MAN-

Man you dumb wan wacka-off man I will

WAAAAAAHAAAAA AAAA-

Postman, postman

Fucked the whole area

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he will fuck you to your kidneys

мый тыйым ебать пычал дене лӱйкалем

cool 👍

[hawaii-official]

Stress-

Must cope by sending you copypasta and website links-

https://mangadex.org/title/c52565c9-d99a-4380-9dc8-67369d448eb7/mahou-shoujo-madoka-magica?order=asc

https://heywise.com/quiz/which-greek-god-are-you-descended-from/?hwscore=1

What's up guys! It's Quandale Dingle here! (RUUEHEHEHEHEHEEHE) I have been arrested for multiple crimes (AHHHHHHHHHHHHH) including: Battery on a police officer (WHAT), Grand theft, Declaring war on Italy, and public indecency (RUHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE X2 speed). I will be escaping prison on, MARCH 28TH! After that.... I WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD

That's it, I'm buying 50000 strands of garlic, 5000000000 things of salt, 5000000000000000 crucifixes, and 50000000000000000000000 mirrors-

Also, I'm sleeping with one eye open-

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsandbubbletea/765810823901921280/fanfic-i-wrote-while-feeling-silly-in-art-class?source=share

your car is smoking

Have you ever been slapped by a wet spaghetti noodle because your girlfriend has a twin sister so you got confused and fucked her dad?

Well that's how it feels to drive a Ford F-250

Postman, postman

Fucked the whole area

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he will fuck you to your kidneys

Anon come back with a mega-copypasta

You know I gets my pimpin' on

Oh shit ain't that your dude?

Yeah I be pimpin' all these hoes

Fool that was way back in highschool

You knows I get my pimp-

Wait,

Waitwaitwait wait wait wait

Svesta is that you- You, you, you, YOU?

What up Lucious?

That's PIMP, Lucious

Don't get it twisted 😤

MAN HE CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANT-

Aahhhh AIN'T NO ONE TALKIN' TO YOU MACHO MAN-

Man you dumb wan wacka-off man I will

WAAAAAAHAAAAA AAAA-

https://youtu.be/iLON_TjyRwY?si=-nONgalvixisLnXN

REEHEHEHEHEHE

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

jokes on you i don't have organs >:)

I think you may have forgotten “Own a musket for home defense, since that's what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my powdered wig and Kentucky rifle. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because it's smoothbore and nails the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grape shot, "Tally ho lads" the grape shot shreds two men in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. Fix bayonet and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He Bleeds out waiting on the police to arrive since triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founding fathers intended.”

I cited the fourth amendment word for word and also sourced it on the poll 💀

(I am now a true American RAAAAAAH 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅)

Irizz

Hey, hey look! Hey look! Look. glass jar

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Writing's not that easy, but Grammarly can help. This sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read. It undermines the writer's message, and the word choice is bland. Grammarly's cutting-edge technology helps you craft compelling, understandable writing that makes an impact on your reader.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

people in NASA be having orgy's whilst people in earth are stuck with puritans 🙁🙁🙁🙁😔😔😔😔😔😔

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

What is a spoon, little spoon

what is spoon, little

Spoon little is what? Up

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once-

talk to the hand cause the face doesn't wanna hear it-

Zoozve

Gaynamede

Irizz

You know I gets my pimpin' on

Oh shit ain't that your dude?

Yeah I be pimpin' all these hoes

Fool that was way back in highschool

You knows I get my pimp-

Wait,

Waitwaitwait wait wait wait

Svesta is that you- You, you, you, YOU?

What up Lucious?

That's PIMP, Lucious

Don't get it twisted 😤

MAN HE CAN CALL YOU WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANT-

Aahhhh AIN'T NO ONE TALKIN' TO YOU MACHO MAN-

Man you dumb wan wacka-off man I will

WAAAAAAHAAAAA AAAA-

Postman, postman

Fucked the whole area

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he will fuck you to your kidneys

мый тыйым ебать пычал дене лӱйкалем

What's up guys, it's Quandale Dingle here

REEHEHEHEHEHE

#not my smile inc

#not my smile inc

jokes on you i don't have organs >:)

I think you may have forgotten “Own a musket for home defense, since that's what the founding fathers intended. Four ruffians break into my house. "What the devil?" As I grab my powdered wig and Kentucky rifle. Blow a golf ball sized hole through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Draw my pistol on the second man, miss him entirely because it's smoothbore and nails the neighbors dog. I have to resort to the cannon mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with grape shot, "Tally ho lads" the grape shot shreds two men in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. Fix bayonet and charge the last terrified rapscallion. He Bleeds out waiting on the police to arrive since triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founding fathers intended.”

I cited the fourth amendment word for word and also sourced it on the poll 💀

(I am now a true American RAAAAAAH 🔥🔥🔥🦅🦅🦅🦅)

Irizz

Hey, hey look! Hey look! Look. glass jar

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Writing's not that easy, but Grammarly can help. This sentence is grammatically correct, but it's wordy and hard to read. It undermines the writer's message, and the word choice is bland. Grammarly's cutting-edge technology helps you craft compelling, understandable writing that makes an impact on your reader.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible.

What is up little spoon,

I am sending you this because I do not want you to mutate the Solar System. Please do not mutate the Solar System or I'm gonna have to send all the alphas after you :)

What is a spoon, little spoon

what is spoon, little

Spoon little is what? Up

Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room! A rubber room with rats,and rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once-

talk to the hand cause the face doesn't wanna hear it-

Postman, postman

Turned the entire neighborhood into beans

(Well done indeed)

Without error exactly

And he’ll turn your kidneys into kidney beans

Zoozve

Gaynamede

Irizz

мый тыйым ебать пычал дене лӱйкалем

What's up guys, it's Quandale Dingle here

REEHEHEHEHEHE

AH WHY IS IT SO LONG

[queenlua]

oh this is such a delightful ask meme -- 3, 48, 54?

3. Foaming hand soap or normal hand soap?

oooh i LOVE the foamy soap. i have always sort of disliked the hand-feel of traditional soap & remember when i first encountered foamy soap at a friend's house as a preteen, it was a REVELATION, and now i buy it for myself always lol

48. If you could build your home from scratch, what outrageous feature would you want to build into it?

a houseboat went on sale near me a while back that had a heckin FIREMAN'S POLE built into it. like, you could fuckin slide from floor 2 onto floor 1 directly into a breakfast nook. i am so jealous of that houseboat, i want a fireman's pole so bad

54. Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?

I HAVE BEEN SUPER LAZY WITH DECORATING HISTORICALLY... but in fairness we only JUST moved out of #apartmentlife this past fall so. we're gonna have to up our game in the coming years

BUT: my first purchase, after we moved into this house, was a couple metal crows by this artist, and they sit perched by our front door year-round

AND ALSO: every year we get a LIVE christmas tree. which struck me as totally wild the first time we did it—we always had fake plastic trees back in Kentucky—but yeah, turns out in the PNW you can pay like five bucks for a permit & then walk into your nearest national forest & personally hack a tree down & it's totally worth it. i mean, except for cleaning up the pine needles after, and also, real tree branches aren't as sturdy at holding up ornaments as plastic branches... but it's still SO fun & smells so good, worth it

[south-of-heaven]

can i request Jessamyn Duke x Reader x Marina Shafir where they buy a house together?

Complete || Jessamyn Duke x Reader x Marina Shafir

Summary: After years and years of saving you finally get to buy your dream home.

A/N: This is based a little bit on the first "Duke Talks" video Jess did where she said she'd really like to buy her childhood home back.

The keys jingle in your hand as you stand before the entrance of the house, the place that now holds a significant weight of your hopes and dreams. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and disbelief as you take in the sight before you. It's not just a house; it's a sanctuary you've been working towards for years, a place that will become the canvas of your shared life.

Jess and Marina stand beside you, their smiles mirroring your own sense of wonder. The journey that led you all here has been long and challenging, marked by countless sacrifices and unwavering determination. But now, standing in front of Jess's childhood home in Kentucky, with 24 acres of woods stretching beyond, you know it's all been worth it.

The door creaks open, and you step into the familiar yet foreign space. The air is tinged with the scent of memories, a blend of nostalgia and the promise of new beginnings. The rooms are empty, waiting to be filled with your laughter, your love, your lives.

Jess's eyes scan the living room, her expression a mix of emotions. "I can't believe we're actually here," she murmurs, her voice full of awe.

You reach out and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's real, Jess. Our home."

She turns to you, her gaze softening as it meets yours. "Yeah, it's ours."

Marina takes in the surroundings with an appreciative grin. "It's perfect. I can already imagine us all here."

You can't help but smile at the thought. It's not just a house you've purchased; it's a future you're building together. The journey that led you to this moment was shared, and now, you'll continue to walk it side by side.

You walk through the rooms, your steps echoing in the emptiness. The sunlight filters through the windows, casting warm patches of light on the wooden floors. Each corner of the house holds a promise, a space for your love to flourish.

As you step outside, the vastness of the land unfolds before you. Trees stretch tall and proud, their branches forming a protective canopy over the earth. It's as if nature itself is welcoming you, inviting you to explore, to dream, to create.

Jessamyn's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "I can't believe we're going to make our own memories here."

You lean back into her, feeling the steady beat of her heart against your back. "It's going to be amazing, Jess."

Marina joins the embrace, wrapping her arms around both of you. "Our own little haven."

With the three of you intertwined, you stand there for a moment, soaking in the beauty of the land, the house, and the love that binds you together. This place is a testament to your journey, a canvas upon which you'll paint a life filled with joy, challenges, and shared dreams.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the land, you feel a profound sense of gratitude. The path that led you here wasn't always easy, but the destination is more than you could have ever imagined. With the love of Jessamyn and Marina by your side, this house isn't just a building; it's a sanctuary of happiness, and together, you're ready to write the next chapter of your lives within its walls.

[kentuckybats]

Buying your first house in Kentucky involves several steps, which can vary depending on the type of loan program you choose. Here’s a detailed guide on the steps and requirements for various Kentucky First Time Home Buyer loan programs: 1. Kentucky FHA Loans Credit Score: Minimum credit score typically required is 580 for 3.5% down payment. Scores between 500-579 may qualify with a 10% down…

[aclaywrites]

How to fall in love via Deneuve Magazine Personal Ads Circa 1993

❖ Go to your mailbox and see that your latest issue of Deneuve magazine has been delivered. It’s in a plain brown envelope, but you still take it all the way inside the house before you open it.

❖ Take a moment to gaze at the cover and appreciate the fact that it’s named after Catherine Deneuve in honor of her sex scene from The Hunger which awakened us all.

❖ Flip past the first few pages of ads. Do I want to fax away for a brochure about the chance to go on a Kenyan photo safari with the world’s first out lesbian commedienne? What about the Olivia Thanksgiving cruise?

❖ Enjoy the Editor’s Column about how our new President Clinton has pledged to make real progress for the LGBT community. Bask in the warm glow of happiness knowing that the gay dark ages are finally coming to a close.

❖ Chuckle at Alison Bechdel’s ad for the Feminist Bookstore Network and wish you had one of those stores near you.

❖ Keep up with the state of the lesbian nation via the letters to the editor. Aren’t the repressive laws being passed in Oregon and Colorado shocking? Goddess bless that Kentucky baby dyke having to dodge the KKK at her high school 🙁

❖ Read the wedding announcements and get all choked up, remembering why you’re here. Resist the urge to flip to the end and see if there’s anyone new from last month. Hope springs eternal!

❖ Oh, the 20th anniversary of Naiad Press! I love their stuff! Especially how all the covers look like they’re printed with ink that was on sale. I wonder if they have any more copies of that Lesbian Queries book from 1990???

❖ Audre Lorde sure is gonna give them hell at the march on Washington, eh?

❖ So many bookstores. So many books.

❖ An article about Safe Sex! Hell yes! Even though lesbians don’t get AIDS because we’re God’s chosen people, this will be fun to read about in theory! “After all, aren’t we told that lesbians and priests are in the lowest risk category?” lol people thought priests weren’t constantly having gay sex. Simpler times.

❖ An interview with Alison Bechdel! She’s so swoony.

❖ Articles about soap operas, speculation about Hilary Clinton, gossip about Madonna and Sandra Bernhard. And what about Whoopi Goldberg? And that Ellen lady? She’s been on Arsenio Hall acting all cagy about the men in her life. A list of women we wish were gay, including Joan Jett? Didn’t she sing Crimson and Clover without changing pronouns like waaaaay back in the 80s

❖ Music reviews: Sweet Honey in the Rock and Alix Dobkin! We’re almost to the ads…

❖ Labrys jewelry, freedom rings. C’mon, let’s get to the good stuff!

❖ Here we go! Classified ads– 30 words for $20! Queer personal finance, we buy used computers, a lesbian resort in New Hampshire.

❖ Personals at last! Is my woman here?

❖ Hey there’s that woman who has an ad every month expressing her ‘complete and sincere respect for’ women in military, fire, police, private security, corrections’. A gay male ad would say ‘Uniform fetish’ but apparently we’re too delicate.

❖ Bisexual boston babe ‘femalely handsome’ looking for someone who’s ‘nice to look at, not a feminist and not a bitch’. Next!

❖ Lonesome in Wyoming, Bisexual Bodybuilder, Softball is over, time to find someone warm for winter, Reubenesque Arkansas Buddhist…

❖ Find a girl who sounds promising– seems interesting and is not too far away. Spend a day or so composing a letter with a pen and piece of paper introducing yourself. If you don’t have a photo of yourself that you like, have a friend take one. Then finish the roll of film and bring it to the Fotomat and wait a day or so and then pick up the prints and hope you like one of them. Choose one anyway, and put it in the envelope with your letter.

❖ Get a stamp, hang it on the mailbox, never hear anything ever again.

❖ One month later, go to your mailbox and see that your copy of Deneuve has arrived.

[things-to-do-leitchfieldky]

Why do people live in Leitchfield, Kentucky?

Leitchfield, Kentucky, is desirable due to its diverse population and affordability. It offers a healthy economy and a variety of jobs, making it a safe and comfortable place to live. Amenities like restaurants, bars, parks, and green spaces contribute to the city's overall livability score, which is above average in terms of education, crime, cost of living, and residents' happiness. The cost of living in Leitchfield is lower than the national average and most cities in the state, with housing costs, utilities, grocery items, transportation, healthcare, and miscellaneous goods and services being less expensive. Crime is a significant factor for living in Leitchfield, as it is lower than the national average and most cities in the state. Education is another critical factor, as the city offers a variety of cultures and religions, making it a welcoming place to live. If you need help in buying property, a real estate broker can help you.

Real Estate Broker that serves Leitchfield

The 1 Percent Lists Purple Door Heartland is a highly reputable discount real estate broker, catering to the needs of clients in Leitchfield, Nolin Lake, and the surrounding areas. You'll potentially save a significant amount of dollars when selling your home by utilizing their services. If you are considering purchasing properties, there is a fantastic opportunity to secure an excellent deal. Discover an extensive collection of available homes for sale in your desired city, postal code, address, or listing ID by exploring their user-friendly website. Or, you can choose the value of your residence to discover the substantial savings you can enjoy in comparison to the typical 6% commission. For inquiries, call (502) 396-7137. 

National Corvette Museum

The National Corvette Museum near Leitchfield, Kentucky, offers a variety of reasons to visit. It showcases the history of the Corvette, its design, and its evolution over the years. The museum has a large collection of Corvettes, from the first model in 1953 to the latest models. Visitors can learn about the car's design and evolution over the years. In 2014, a sinkhole opened in the museum, swallowing eight Corvettes. The museum has since recovered the cars and put them on display in a special exhibit. Visitors can also experience driving a Corvette by taking a driving simulator. There's also a gift shop that offers a wide variety of Corvette-related merchandise, including clothing, souvenirs, die-cast models, and memorabilia. The museum also houses the Bowling Green Assembly Plant, where Corvettes are built. 

Leitchfield's former police face rape and sexual abuse

A former Leitchfield police officer, Jeremy Wright, has been arrested on charges of rape and sexual abuse involving a teenage girl. KSP discovered the relationship on July 22, and upon investigation, Wright resigned from the Leitchfield Police Department. The investigation has led to the possibility of additional charges, and KSP is urging for more information on the case. The incident occurred during an internal investigation by the Leitchfield Police Department. This is really devastating news because the one who is supposed to be the person who will find criminals is also a criminal. Hopefully, the police department will be cleaned. Read more. 

Link to maps

National Corvette Museum 350 Corvette Dr, Bowling Green, KY 42101, United States Follow Corvette Dr to KY-446 E 2 min (0.5 mi) Take I-65 N and Exit 30 to KY-3145. Take exit 30 from I-65 N 4 min (3.2 mi) Follow KY-3145 to US-31W N 3 min (2.6 mi) Take KY-259 N to Ambassador Shores Dr in Grayson County 33 min (27.7 mi) Turn right onto Ambassador Shores Dr Destination will be on the right 4 min (1.4 mi) 1 Percent Lists Purple Door Heartland 1904 Ambassador Shores Dr, Leitchfield, KY 42754, United States

[kitty-pelosi]

actually a bit of lesser known history:

Appalachians have a particular reputation for militancy among their deeply proud communities (often mixed indigenous, black, and white) and it’s because of labor actions staged at the beginning of the 20th century which are referred to as the West Virginia Coal Wars which included the Battle of Blair Mountain (1921)- the largest labor action and insurrection against the U.S. government to date.

essentially, Appalachian coal miners lived and worked in company coal towns where everything from the food you ate, the house you had - the furniture in the house, the tools of your trade, and your income were owned by the coal company in a true geographic monopoly. Miners were not paid in USD, but rather company credit which could be used to buy food from company owned stores and pay rent on your company owned house and tools. This was a terrible situation which rendered Appalachian miners effective serfs - they could not move, as they were paid in a currency which was useless anywhere but the company town. With resentment against mining management growing, the workers began to organize with the help of socialists.

It wasn’t getting anywhere. Socialist party activists would go on to supply rifles and ammunition to the miners, which prompted the mining companies to hire the Baldwin-Felts Detective Agency to guard their mines. Don’t be fooled by the name, the BFD was a private for-hire army. Baldwin-Felts mercenaries began confiscating weapons and evicting miners who were associated with the Socialist party from the towns, rendering them homeless in the middle of the mountains with literally nothing but the clothes on their backs, if that. This is what Baldwin-Felts did, they were known Union busters who favored violence in their methods against organizing workers. They had a reputation for this (see: the Ludlow Massacre). The first family they evicted was a woman with her kids, very visibly in the public eye. It was a threat to the workers.

obviously, the miners fought back.

There were a lot of company towns with ensnared Appalachian miners working on them dotted all throughout Appalachia - from Pennsylvania to Kentucky (a very very large region, with many people larger than many countries). As these strikes escalated, the President and the United States Army, along with the West Virginia State Police, would cooperate with Baldwin-Felts mercenaries to put down the strikes - lethally. The most infamous event was the Battle of Blair Mountain, in which a confrontation between Felts agents and the striking miners turned into open warfare. For over a week skirmishes took place between state police, Felts agents, and striking miners, with millions of rounds fired. But eventually the US Army arrived, and many of the miners were unwilling to kill veterans, having been soldiers in WWI themselves. Unfortunately, this would lead to the defeat of the strike, with many miners fleeing. It became a habit of theirs to stash their socialist-given weapons in the woods and underneath houses in hidden compartments or tunnels (your reblogged photo).

This was an immense victory for capitalists and the government, as miner union membership plummeted following the battle. And sadly, victors write the history, and I don’t doubt that it is east coast writers and the government which have had a hand in mislabeling Appalachians as a bunch of white toothless gun-toting brother-fucking hicks. Ask most Americans what a Melungeon is and they’ll look at you like you’ve sprouted a third eye - but this is a rich ethnic group in Appalachia with a multi-racial history. And they were the strikers who lost.

Coal miner's child using a hole in the door to enter a bedroom with a smoking pipe in one hand and a gun in the other in Bertha Hill, West Virginia. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott. 1938

[henerypaul-blog]

Apartment Buildings for Sale in the United States

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