#bmt asks

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Steps into solo phase, and brings out Greek mythology, German poetry from 1800s... I don't know what more is coming or whatever I missed noticing...

I want to know what this man, Park Jimin, does in his free time. What are his personal interests and inspirations? Talk to us, Jimin, I beg.

If someone were to write a biography of him, it could be titled Jimin's Enigma. I don't think we'll ever know what's inside that head. Or he'll talk here and there, vaguely mentioning something or repeating about The Notebook. You know, something that is not too deep. And then, as you said, we get the Greek mythology, 19th century German poetry, latin words on the palm of his hands, all from someone who is an idol who freely talks about mainstream interests while supposedly he's also an art collector. Who are you, Park Jimin?

I do hope he addresses the Rilke poem. Even if it only scratches the surface. How did he come up with the idea? Or someone suggested it? Either way, he had to approve it which is still a lot.

I have hopes for Jimin this solo season to freely talk about his album and all the little details that went into it.

[bensdavies]

I GET TO START A NEW SPECIALTY AT WORK NEXT WEEK LETS GOOOOOO

[sun-ea-sports]

whats the funniest subspace nickname you've heard. I've seen submissive, subordination, and subheading

I’ve seen people bypass and say Subshit before,,

But for “normal” nicknames (without curse words) it’d have to be Submarine :3c

[sairobee]

I just followed you after seeing your first chapter of Even the Rocks- except, I didn't realize it was a first chapter, so I tore through the whole thing and screamed "WHAT" when I reached that cliffhanger of an ending. I'm chomping at the bit to read the rest! <3

AAAAAAaaaah! This is such a huge compliment, thank you!! <3 I just finished writing chapter two, and I'm about to go on hiatus in two weeks, so crossing my fingers I'll be able to post pages in a few months!

Thank you again! And thank you everyone who has reblogged, left nice words in the tags, or replied -- it means the world to me.

[boatmediatourney]

If Atlantis wins the submarine tournament, I am rage-quitting the internet.

i fear you may have to start preparing yourself for the worst

[roxydemi]

What kind of sub? Lol gotta make sure I never buy that kind

Any of them, I have a gluten intolerance LOL

[writermai05]

oh please, please, please go into heavy detail about tapping joaquín out at his graduation, i neeeed it 🙏🙏

Well...since you asked so nicely!

Tapping Joaquín out at his BMT Graduation :)

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x fem! reader

A/N: I know that Top Gun is the Navy, therefore this gif isn't accurate. I doubt y'all give a shit whether or not my military accuracy is the greatest, but I do kinda know what i'm talking about LOL (I have a couple family members in the airforce). Also, I was gonna do headcanons and then it spiraled into this...let me know if it's okay.

Word Count: 1,157

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Marvel related, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. I also had to make up / guesstimate a timeline since it's not to clear as to what age Joaquín is supposed to be, just that he survived the blip.

Warnings !: Mentions of taking place during the blip (only a warning because reader doesn't have any family members who survived it.)

Your flight was late last night. You would’ve been there yesterday, but due to an unfortunate series of flight delays and cancellations, you had been stuck in Miami longer than anticipated.

Luckily, Joaquín’s mother and abuela had gotten in just fine, so they were able to spend the day with him, watching the morning run and his coin ceremony. Joaquín had eagerly sent over pictures as soon as he got his phone back, the three of them at the Alamo, and at various locations around San Antonio. Your heart banged with sadness at the notion of not being able to be there, but ever the gentleman, he reassured you that it wasn’t your fault. 

Now here you were again, early in the morning at the Lackland Air force base with his mother and abuela, just waiting for the graduation to start. You had driven them onto base, seeing as neither of them had a military ID, but you were happy to do it. Your leg was anxiously bouncing on the metal bleachers. His mom tells you how yesterday at his ceremony he was awarded as the best BMT graduate. It surprises you since he hadn’t mentioned it in any of the letters he wrote to you, but the more you think about it, that is exactly something that he would do. There’s a cool breeze blowing at your hair, despite it being August, and the sun is slowly rising. Joaquín’s mother, Esperanza, gently lays her hand on your knee. 

“Cálmate, Mija. It’ll be okay.” She gently rubs circles onto your skin, hoping to soothe whatever nerves you may have. You put your hand over hers, squeezing it gently. Ever since you lost your family members in the blip, Joaquín’s family had 

“I know, Mamá. It’s just…we haven’t been separated since we started dating. What if he spent this time away and he realizes this isn’t what he wanted-“ She gently smacks your arm, making you let out a small yelp. 

“Hey. He’s your husband. We spent the entire day with him yesterday, and he wouldn’t stop talking about you, Mija. I think it’s safe to say that the two months that you two were separated didn’t impact the way he thinks about you.” You sigh as you rub at your, now slightly sore, upper arm. You know she’s right. Joaquín had only ever shown interest in you since you officially started dating all those years ago, but the insecurity that bloomed in your stomach couldn’t be helped. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be thinking that way…He’s a good man, Mamá.” Esperanza nods in agreement. 

“And if he wasn’t, I’d smack him too. He knows better.” That makes you chuckle. 

“I missed him. A lot.” You feel your eyes sting with tears at the thought. She squeezes your hand gently. It doesn’t help that you know this isn’t the end. He still has to go to tech school, and do more training until he can finally do Recon like he set out to do. 

“You’re gonna see him today. I know it’s just the beginning, but you two have something…I can’t even describe. It’s stronger than any distance.” His mother says gently. His Abuela chimes in a bit, speaking Spanish. You only really know bits and pieces, having a high school speaking level. You recognize the words, Love. Eyes. Esperanza translates for you. 

“There’s an old proverb. It means ‘Love is shown through the eyes.�� Mamá is saying that she knows you two will get through it because she’s seen the way Quíno looks at you…and I agree.”  You wipe your eyes. 

“You’re right. We’ll be fine.” You turn to grab his Abuela’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Gracias, Abuelita.” 

~

The ceremony starts, and the three of you keep an eye out for Joaquín, though it is a little bit hard with everyone having the exact same uniform and haircut. It takes a little time but you do see him, somewhere in the middle of the pack of graduates. His face is neutral as he marches past, looking straight in front of him. He walks perfectly in sync with his fellow airmen.

As it wraps up, and all the graduates stand in their blues under the blazing Texas sun, You guide his Abuela, making sure she’s stable on the grass field as the three of you search for your husband in the sea of soldiers once again. 

The time comes when you finally lay eyes on him again. He’s standing right there, just a few feet away, his arms tucked behind his back the way that he was taught to do. His gaze is forward, and he doesn’t even fidget, a stark contrast from the Joaquín you last saw two months ago. His mom pushes you closer towards him.

“Go, Mija. Tap him out.” You whip your head around to look at her, shaking your head. 

“But-“ You're cut off by the wave of her hand.

“We got to do it yesterday. I think Quíno would like his wife now.” She takes Abuela’s hand to support her instead. They both usher you towards him, falling not too far behind.

It’s not long before you meet face to face. His gaze is forward but distinctly not on you, rather past you. You understand the rules. He’s not allowed to move from this position until you touch him. Your eyes can’t help but water at the sight of him, and even though you want nothing more than to touch him, you resist. 

“Joaquín…I am so proud of you. I missed you so much. I know it was hard to be away from us, but you’re just so strong. You’re stubborn, and just so so good. This is what you wanted, and I'm just glad I could be here to support you…” You watch as tears stream down his face, but he makes no move to wipe at them. The discipline and strength that he’s gained over these eight weeks is reflective in the way he’s holding himself now.

“I love you so much.” With that, you wrap your arms around him, effectively tapping him out. He immediately returns the embrace. You feel his tears drop against the crook of your neck as he holds you close. You press a kiss to his cheek, and he immediately pulls away so he can kiss you on the lips. It’s passionate, and comforting and it communicates exactly what he wants to say: ‘I missed you too.’ 

His mother and abuela not so subtly snap pictures of the two of you, but you really don’t even notice. All you can focus on is him. You wipe at his face, chuckling at his emotional reaction. It rubs off on him too, he chuckles and removes your hands from his face, pressing kisses to your knuckles.

“I love you too.” He whispers the words, and presses a kiss to your temple.

A/N: Feel free to leave comments and critiques. I'm always open to feedback !

[andrefreakman]

hey im really sorry about the creeps in your questions asking to see your feet, anyways, do you think you could film a video of you taking off your shoes (for no reason) and then socks? not so i can see your feet or anything

no but ill shove them down your throat for $5 and a bmt footlong on white bread with mozzarella, lettuce, onion, pickles, cucumber, oil, vinegar, and all the seasonings, with mayo

[phunockery]

Trigger warning allergic reaction, random etymology facts pertaining to sexual acts, talking about death, the melodrama of trying not to die.

(Spoilers) If you're reading this, it means I survived the night.

This is a timed log after finding out I poisoned myself. I don't think I'll die from it but this sucks and I'm feeling emotional and melodramatic.

11:00ish

If I die tomorrow, I didn't mean to. I promise. I just wanted a drink. I usually don't, it usually upsets my stomach. But tomorrow I turn 34 and I was feeling frisky and wanted something to drink while I play my traditional birthday (and sad mood) game: Sonic 2. So I grab a Kirkland hard seltzer from the fridge. Never tried the brand, but it was black cherry and I like that.

I decided to try to time some of my runs, nothing serious. Beat a couple of my pbs feeling good.

After drinking about 1/4th of the seltzer and I notice that my head is feeling funny and I wonder how a 5% drink was making me feel like that. My game play gets bad, but I beat my PB on Chemical Plant 2.

Aquatic Zone is a mess, mild improvement in act 2... And I start feeling itchy. Hives are building. I grab some Benadryl, chew two and as my chest tightens I look up what could be causing this.

11:15

Apparently there is a filtering process called finning that run the alcohol through animal products, like gelatin.

That comes from pigs.

That I am deathly allergic to.

The company does not have to disclose this information and honestly this a best guess, because what else would make me allergic to an alcoholic beverage?

Now I am sitting here, trying to differenciate anxiety and anaphylaxis. Taking deep breaths, epi pen in hand. I'm not going to call 911 because I can't afford it, if you're mad, join the club. (🦅 Insert screams of eagles and freedom here 🇺🇲)

It's almost midnight. I am almost 34 and I am live blogging my allergic reaction because I have nothing else to do

'call 911' that is far too expensive and I don't want to leave my kids with massive amounts of debt because I decided to get treatment (eagle screaming and freedom noises here 🦅)

I messaged a few friends, but they're busy. My friend is probably going to kill me in the morning when she sees this if I'm not already dead.

I'll probably live... I once survived a wedding where the brides mother unintentionally tried to kill me. I was lucky then because there was a doctor in the house... But that was worse. I had lost my ability to breathe immediately.

I'm just itchy. Soooo itchy. I am covered in hives... It doesn't help that my other friend made dinner and no one put cast iron that has cooked bacon and allergy together yesterday... Which I suffered for. Granted I suffered less then than I am now. Now now, but still itchy and cramps.

11:30

I hope to make it to cramps. I should. I can still breath. I am just so itchy. I hate this. I should be getting rest so I can pretend to have a good birthday. Instead I will pretend to have a good birthday and deal with aaaallll the fallout of having a full allergic reaction.

11:35

Chest is no longer feeling tight. A friend has message saying they are going to bed. I sent a message asking if they have a few moments to just sit with me. I think it was too late, they're offline.

11:40 I'm still itchy. My legs, my arms, my scalp, my chest, my armpits... It all itches. This really sucks. (Remembers that sucks used to be a euphemism for bjs and this fact gives me the chuckles of strength).

11:45

double checked messages to other friends. All unread. Some are online, some are not. But I am still alone so you, future reader, remain my emotional support pen-pal.

The skin around my eyes is itchy like I was crying. I don't think I've been crying. I'm upset, but not like that.

Good news: this won't be my worst birthday.

My worst birthday was in 2009. I was BMT for the USAF and on my 19th birthday, two days before graduating, I was acting unusually confused, was sent to the hospital and diagnosed with viral meningitis. I was booted from the USAF shortly after recovering.

11:50 Hell this isn't even as bad the last 7 years that just got progressively worse. I was let go of my job on my 30th birthday and became disabled two days later. (Barely related). Last year I was coerced into going to a water park (I don't do good with loud noises any more) and I wound up breaking a tooth trying to swim in the shallow waters. My ex was not comforting about it and suggested that I not make a scene in front of my kids because they would get upset.

11:55 I can breathe a bit easier. Still left unseen and I turn 34 in 5 minutes.

3 minutes to go and I am trying to fight the sleepy of the Benny's until I feel less itchy.

2 more minutes, I really hope I don't die, my friends don't deserve to have a corpse in their guest room

12:05 made a happy birthday post on TikTok. My voice is definitely affected, but I can talk and breath.

Still left on unseen. I feel bad that they're going to wake up and find out that a friend reached out for help and help wasn't available. That is going to suck. Hopefully I'm still alive and can tell them they're good and deserve sleep.

12:20 a rando has become the first to wish me a happy birthday. A friend messaged to let me know they're glad I'm safe and they're going to bed so they can work in the morning. They hope I find someone to talk to. It looks like it is just you and me

12:23 the stomach has put in its bid for attention. I will spare you the details. The Benny's are taking effect. I am soooo tired and the body itches slightly less. Except around the eyes, it still feels like I've been crying

12:29 my apologies to my friend: I fear I have destroyed your toilet. It should be fine in the morning.

12:30 the stomach still hates me. I hate me. I just want to go to bed.

12:40 tired. Imma go to bed with my Epi Pen on the bedside table. I wake up to everything anyways. The sudden inescapable lack of breath should be more than enough to wake.

I could really use a 'there there's and a hug. And now my eyes are itchy again, at least I know why this time.

Good night.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

"Please me i don’t wanna please me"… is that what I hear? Please me whaaaaat??! The lyrics are gonna wreck us all byeeee

I hear please me, play with me, break me 👀 Oh, Jimin is really coming for us. And given the other clues, who hurt him?

Either way, we're getting a sensual track, probably perfect for pole dancing. It's Jimin's time to really shine. "Please me" "fuck me", I don't really care. I'm here for all of this.

And I need him to show the moon tattoos. Or any other tattoos he might have. Dancing in the rain, mud, with barely any clothes on while singing about separation and going crazy.

[boobblog]

I'm not editing this...

Luke has been worried about my heart for years. He used to tell me all the time that he seriously thinks I'm going to have a heart attack. Now, between cancer and my stupid sense of urgency that may or may not be from my time in Air Force, he is even more acutely aware. I was talking with a friend the other day and I was able to put into words what happens in my brain when I'm feeling "stressed."

Everything and I mean everything, carries an equal value of importance, HAS to be done as quickly as possible, so that no one is affected by my time management skills, but it also has to be done perfectly creating zero room for errors. If I mess something up, there is a whole shame cycle I will go through. I'm telling y'all, it's cluster up there.

The problem, there's a lot, but the one I've recently uncovered is that I'm driving myself crazy. I thrive in creative spaces, which can be spaces not always used creatively, but the tasks I'm doing become boring because I have these made up rules in my head, that only I am holding myself too. Insane right? Who in the their right mind makes up rules for tasks that don't have rules, and then punishes themselves for not meeting the expected outcome.

Me. I do that. With everything I do.

I mentioned my time in the Air Force. I did 4 years active duty, all of which were spent in Misawa, Japan, and 2 years in the reserves here in DFW. Part of me thinks I would have stayed till retirement had I not entered into the most traumatic relationship of my life immediately following my active duty stint. However, during that 10 year stint I was not ok, mentally or physically. I hurt people too. But, we can't change that can we.

Anywho, there's a video in my flashbacks of the BMT chow hall, and how all the drill instructors are deliberately tearing us down, so they can mold us into the machine that is the United States military. I'm sure you can sense where this is going, so I will spare you the imperialistic ramifications of cultivizing children. But know I'm not alone in these thoughts.

The military taught so many lessons, but it also created one of the deepest grooves in my brain that I have to physically work at daily to undo. It's annoying more than anything. But it showed me exactly how I will not be "molding" my child.

I got distracted, I was trying to explain my unreal sense of urgency and what I've learned about it. I get so angry, like Big Mad when I feel rushed. I've always thought that there was person to blame for this. Someone put pressure on me to do all these things, right now, perfectly. It's true, I always feel rushed, but no one was rushing me.

I just rushed! Why are all my epiphanies so simple when I type them out. In my brain these revelations are massive and a very big deal.

So how does my sense of urgency have anything to do with cancer you ask? The hospitalist actually congratulated me on doing all of my testing done within 2 months. He said that he's never seen that and called me the poster child of cancer treatment. What the fuck? People sit on a diagnosis like that? Why was it so easy for me to make all the 50457937 appointments, and push for all these procedures before chemo? Who knows, my sense of urgency was helpful, making the chance for me to get rid of it further and further away.

I have a particularly fucked up bag of tricks, that's what I like to call my mental health disorders. Yup multiple. I am officially diagnosed with: Severe Anxiety, Chronic Depression, Bulimia (in remission, yes, I already told y'all this, but I did that, I stopped it,) and Complex-PTSD. Luckily for me, every single one of these diagnoses presents like something entirely different, at different times. Not. So managing the symptoms and thoughts has been complicated to say the least.

Let's talk about that. Having cancer while also having depression is so fucked up. It's like the universe, said Hey look at that depressy/stressy person who already struggles with suicidal ideations, they're perfect! Let's give them this disease that will absolutley kill them if they don't do the most painful things to their bodies. But have no fear, we will call them survivors and warriors making them think this was their choice. Cancer doesn't give a fuck about your mental health. It's like here you go, now's your chance to just let go. But, if you don't fight (insert religious trauma here), so the only choice is to go suffer tremendouly while actively fighting to keep the life you didn't want to keep before.

This is one of the reasons I struggle with God the Father. Because I have the best father, and if my earthly Dad is better than some people's Heavenly father, who is capable of preventing this shit, but doesn't, then I have a really hard time wrapping my mind around an all loving heavenly father. So, I say the universe. Not to discredit your God, this is what works for me. People have used God the father to beat me over the head for years. Maybe there's a lot to heal from here still, but if he is all knowing then he shouldn't mind, right?

I'm not a warrior, I have a low pain tolerance now (tattoos do not count, that's therapy and I love that pain) and I have the weakest stomach. I struggle changing the dressings on my own body. I used to be this bad ass first assist with a stomach made from steel, seriously, I held eyeballs, and reconstructed faces after drunken bar fights between stupid boys. Now, I cry and/or throw up rubbing antibiotic ointment on my "nipples". Cool cool cool cool

I'm typing this from the notes I took last night at 0352 in the morning on my phone. I learned another thing about myself. Self discovery is a journey, and it's the only place I can go right now. So I learned that this blog will be the physical manifestations of me properly re-filing my memories. Remember how I told you guys how my PTSD hid thoughts and memories to protect me. Well now it thinks I'm strong enough to process all of them, at once, while I have cancer.

THAT IS WHAT MAKES ME A WARRIOR. I'M DOING THAT.

I wanted to start this entry with a thought I had last night. Why is it that most people are telling me I look and/or sound good when they see or speak to me? Is there a way that I'm supposed to look or sound? Am I fucking cancer up too?

Nope that's not a real thought. So imagine it is now 0406 last night and I identified an unreal thought in real time! My therapy peeps will know that this is a huge accomplishment, so get ready to have your minds blown.

That thought is irrational. I'm really only speaking at lengths to my family and they have said those things. But they would NEVER mean it the way my fucked up little brain imagined up. But that made me reflect more. They wouldn't mean it like that because I've told them about how I think and feel about the impact words have on me.

Communication is such a tool that not many people have mastered. We should be taught better how to have hard verbal conversations about things like cancer, and rape.

Ohhhhh nice seque again, rape. Yup, #metoo. Moving on, it doesn't define me, I will not be shamed, or embarrassed and I absolutely, definitely, without a second thought NOT tone down MY story for your comfortability. If it makes you uncomfortable, go touch some grass and be thankful you don't have to figure out how to "survive". Yet.

[blackandwhiteflag]

For the ask thing: What’s your go to sandwich order (if you got one??)

idk how i missed this? 😭

i will ALWAYS order a turkey sandwich no questions asked 😌 and if it’s subway an italian bmt makes me happy

[buttcheek2]

i'm going to a work event on wednesday and they asked me for my subway order. i said italian BMT. they emailed me back:

"okay julian, i want to make sure that i understand what you want. please tell me what bmt means."

i don't know what BMT means. i look it up. it means "Biggest, Meatiest, Tastiest"

i'm now forced to send that phrase in my reply. to my union chair. NDNDDJSJNSNSNNSNDN

[mangosimoothie]

microscope, mixtape, and shooting star for esther ! 🖤

tysm for asking about the queen 🖤

microscope: zoom in – describe the little, insignificant details about an OC.

some small physical details about Esther: 6' but 6' 4" presenting (boots), slight chipped front tooth from getting knocked in the mouth with a beer bottle (it was an accident but she still got the dude back) other than that really good teeth for someone who hasn't been to the dentist since she was a teenager, she has a deviated septum from when Pixie broke her nose in the pit - part of the reason why she never got a septum piercing. she knows having it be crooked would annoy her.

mixtape: 5 songs that describe your OC(s) or songs they themselves would like.

this is the perfect question because I make playlists for all my characters 💀 this is the whole playlist for Esther - it's a combo of songs she'd listen to and songs that remind me of her. the 5 that I think would be on her On Repeat are:

shooting star: if your OC(s) could have one wish what would it be?

world domination at the end of the day esther just wants to do what she loves and nothing else which is make music with her friends and disrespect authority. the deeper answer is story things sooo stay tuned

ask me questions! <3

[writermai05]

HIGHSCHOOLSWEATHEART! JOAQUIN TORRES HEADCANONS

A/N: Danny Ramirez in On My Block you will always be famous in my heart (I only watched like the first couple episodes of it but I remember fine shyt being in the ones I did watch and thought of him everyday until I saw him again in TFATWS LMAO) I used comic! Joaquin's family background since I don't think we see it much, if not at all, on screen.

Also, I see y'all liking. Leave requests, I beg.

You and Joaquin have kinda known each other since childhood, always in the same classes and schools, but you didn’t really get close until freshman year when you were seatmates in the same algebra class

This man was WHIPPED; immediately. 

You missed a day cause you were out sick? He’s got notes for you. You didn’t eat lunch because you forgot to pack any and don’t have money on you? He packed extra just in case.

If you ever complimented him on anything, he’d just DOUBLE DOWN on that shit. You said you liked his hair styled a certain way? He only ever styled it that way from then on. 

Finally asked you out when you were sophomores for homecoming.

He was literally so nervous, constantly asking his mom and Abuela how he looked while they helped him get ready :(

When he saw you; all done up his jaw was on the FLOOR

Like, man was so down bad, his mom had pinch his elbow to snap him out of it. 

He was a bundle of energy, just excited and nervous all in one. 

Was so thrilled when you agreed to dance with him

Side note; this man can DANCE like he definitely grew up dancing with his mom, getting dragged into the open dance space at the family functions

That night, the two of you stayed out late and went to a park to just talk and look at the Miami sky line at night, the city lights so bright despite all the darkness that surrounded you. 

You guys just talked, for hours. Joaquin talked about what it was like immigrating to the states with his mom and Abuela, and all his hopes and dreams. What he wanted from the world. The people he looks up to. You shared a lot of yourself with him that night too, bonding over your strong sense of justice and wanting to just make the world a better place. 

He knew he wanted to marry you after that. 

Obviously, his mom was not down with that. She didn’t want him to get married you and then regret it later. (You guys were also like, 16 years old so, illegal?) 

But he is a stubborn man. So he waited, saved up enough money up until you guys were both in university together. 

Literally proposed at graduation, in front of both your guys’ families. You were a mess. 

Honestly, probably a smart decision considering he left for basic training shortly after (get those military tax benefits, reader!) 

When I say this man wrote nearly everyday, I mean it. When he left you gave him a notebook for him to write his letters in, and boy oh boy did he WRITE

You went to his BMT graduation, and tapped him out. He literally picked you up so fast, held you so tight. He cried so much. (I CAN GO INTO HEAVY DETAIL, AND I W I L L)

He did still have to go to school after for recon, but at least he didn’t have to exclusively write letters, y’all could talk on the phone and such. (Note: I just learned that it takes TWO YEARS of more schooling until you can officially become Air Force Special Recon Airman…Joaquin Torres the man that you are.) 

Long Distance was hard, and there was literally nothing more that he wanted than to be with you, but you both held strong, him coming home for your birthday and major holidays, and you flying to visit him (wherever he was training at the time)

I could go on, but that is where I shall end for now...

[starrbar]

First sketch pair is a leftover vent from my previous low point that I forgot to paste on the previous page.

Something funny that happened to me afterward was that I ordered a sandwich—my usual: Italian BMT with pickles, banana peppers, mayo n mustard, and shredded cheese. And instead of pepperoni, salami, and ham, I got meatballs and marinara! o_o

Also more of me mocking the way certain people act like they're allergic to people with kinks they don't like. Someone recently told me that it was manipulative of me to make a post asking for mutual aid for an artist I like without disclaiming that they're an "open proshipper", as if that's such a game changer and this stranger WOULD have deserved help if not for their kinks, which are no one's business to judge.

Like can people not wrap their head around the fact that they only get to know my kinks because I let them, and even if I kept them private—which everyone has a right to do, if you've forgotten what personal boundaries are—that would not change someone's ability to judge how SAFE I am to be around. But nah, people wanna keep pretending they can detect predatory intent through people's fuckin' fantasies. Grow up.