#p!mp me out

[plzturnmeoutceral]

When I was 21 I was blackmailed by a group of of t33ns. They cat fished me had me send extremely embarrassing pics/videos of myself.. they than black mailed me into serving them.

Driving them around, buying them weed and alcohol, than also had me service them.. they even had me take their dog while they watched

It was extremely embarrassing and humiliating.

It went on for some years before they got tired of me.

[breadclubrising]

idc enough to rip and upload the video or see if anyone has posted it already

but this video of kenny saying he went somewhere (not canada!) to "recruit an old friend" who is "near and dear", I would have thought was going to be a swerve, like 'yep, my old friend YUJIRO 'THE TOKYO PIMP' TAKAHASHI'...

i WOULD HAVE thought that IF i had not seen kenneth's lil smile when people IMMEDIATELY started cheering when he said "old friend who is near and dear to my heart." he also threw in what appear to be a bashful head drop and a trying-not-to-get-choked-up voice when he started talking again. even in this shitty lil twitter vid from someone's phone, that smile looks real enough to convince me to tune into blood & guts in a couple weeks.

[cithaerons]

terrified to post about footballers now why are they all rightwingers these days what’s up with that skjsjsjsk

[qrichas]

man. this event is giving me mixed feelings bc ive been so tired of angst lately ive been hitting my limit and i was hoping that at least this event was gonna give smth positive but if its this paranoia for 2 weeks.... im not gonna tank it

[lizardho]

I think the worst day I had as a missionary is hard to pin down – for comedy bad day stories, I like to talk about my cute companion who ripped three pairs of pants in one day because his ass was so fat. Literally, two in the morning, we missed 3 appointments in the afternoon because people kept cancelling on us, and we ended up far away from home visiting “Less Actives” in the downtown area. We find a family who says we can come in once their dad get home, and we sit down to wait for the dad to get in and RIIIPPP goes the third pair of slacks this man wore that day. I hand him my suit jacket and he wraps it around his waist like a bashful adolescent who just started his period at an inconvenient time. We catch a ride home on a bus and ended up home an hour early. He cried for like 30 minutes while stitching up his pants, and I got to rest a lot more than expected that day. We ordered a 4-cheese pizza and went to bed early that night, having walked probably 5-6 miles that day knocking doors and getting turned away.

Another bad day was the day the Mexico City Temple was re-opening. It was a funny experience for me because the evening before I was contacted by the Mission President and told that an elder in our district had confessed some serious sins to him and that those sins precluded him from going to the temple. The MP told me that nobody in this elder’s ward could get time off to babysit him so he was begging one of us – I didn’t want to go to the temple, it was a crappy way to spend a P-Day in my opinion, so I told the MP I’d do it. I spent the day eating popsicles and napping with an elder who, in between Bolis and naps, would shakily and tearfully confess that no fewer than half of his companions had secret phones they used to watch porn, hire prostitutes, and buy drugs. This was bewildering to me since I had been Trying So Hard my whole mission and had always felt inadequate, and these elders who were doing better than me and more respected than me were somehow out here fucking, doing drugs, and jorkin’ it.

I was actually in a “Punishment Area” at the time because in my last area one of my life-threateningly attractive companions had gone into the homes of widows to repair their electrical wirings (he was a trained electrician prior to going on a mission.) Being alone in the home of an 80-year-old widow with failing lights was “against the rules” to the extent that me mandaron a la goma, and some handful of guys I’d been told to view as role models were out here breaking actual laws and shit. Of course, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was in this area because of the Deep Evil that Lay Within My Heart (wanting to kiss Elder Electrician on his stupid himbo lips) but my MP could not have known that, just like he didn’t know that the guys he was making Zone Leaders were getting their dicks sucked and snorting cocaine. That honestly felt outrageous to me.

I feel like the stereotypical “worst day” of a mission is the last day – they take you to the airport in a big van, all melancholy and nostalgic. We sang on our drive to the airport – elders and sisters tearfully sang or hummed hymns together. I was deadpan the whole time, it was such a relief to be going home. For me the worst part of the day was the relief – the release of pressure. The pressure to perform, to be “on,” to be at your best, is omnipresent for elders. I was the only person flying to Phoenix, so for the first time in two years I felt a release from that pressure. Nobody was scrutinizing me, I no longer felt that every thought, action, and feeling was being evaluated and judged as a sign of my true character. It was hard to realize, a the pressure let up, that I had been holding all that weight for two years without knowing when it had started. I remember getting confused in Customs and needing someone who spoke Spanish to talk to me because I kept forgetting words in English. I remember getting home and my family waiting for me and feeling like it was all finally done, finally over, I could finally breath. It didn’t feel bad, but it did feel heavy. And it definitely was not the worst day of my mission.

The actual worst day of my mission, though, was about 5 months in. At the 6-month mark I was expected to make a long trip down to an area of town near La Basilica de Guadalupe to submit my visa paperwork, and the mission office had sent me an extra $500 MX to use for transportation costs. When I withdrew the money they had sent for the month, I noticed it was higher than expected. My companion, a senior companion and district leader, had the cell phone. He was talking to another elder while he waited for me to withdraw my monthly deposit. I approached and asked if I could use the cell phone to call the mission office, as I had questions. He said “no,” and ignored me. I waited until the conversation ended and asked again, and again, angrily, he said, “No.” I said “Elder, relax, I just need to call the mission office to see why they sent me more this month than usual.” His face turned red as he realized other elders were watching the exchange occur. He handed me the phone, I called and was told the money was for transportation costs, and laughingly returned the phone to my companion. He took it, told the other elders he needed to tie his shoe but they could head on over to the District Meeting, and waited until they were out of eyesight. Once that was done, he grabbed me hard by the wrist, dragged me into a hidden corner out of earshot from others, and said, “If you ever disrespect me or my authority again I swear to God I will kill you.”

I was actually shocked. This guy had spent the last month and a half being SUPER nice to me, so I thought he was kidding and I was just confused. I laughed and said “Haha, yeah, your authority over the cell phone is sacred,” and tried to walk away but he didn’t let go of my wrist. He pulled me back and said “I will literally slit your throat if you ever talk to me like that again. As senior companion my authority over YOU is sacred, and I will not let God be mocked by you.”

I realized that he was serious. Like, actually threatening-my-life serious. I could see it in his eyes, I could feel it in the way he squeezed tighter on my wrist. In actuality, the idea seems laughable now. The guy was absolutely chickenshit. He cried if his shits were too hard, he couldn’t end a human life, but I still didn’t let myself fall asleep first for the rest of our time together. And I still hid the two knives we had in a different area while he was showering the next morning.

If I’m being honest though, even that wasn’t the worst day of my mission. That was bad, and each subsequent time he told me he was going to cut my throat for minor infractions against his God-Given Authority Over Me (like not wearing a belt for morning scripture study, or not taking the path he thought was best to get to a lesson) was a bad day. Every P-Day where he read my emails over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t telling my parents about how he was treating me, every day he told me that the ward members would never believe me over him, every day he put me down in front of other elders and they laughed in agreement, every day he was in a bad mood and took it out on me was a bad day. But the worst day was the day I told the mission president about it. I told him about the threats to my life, his temper, his physical abuse, hiss manipulation and rule-breaking, and the mission president told me “The time to tell me this was 6 months ago. The time to forgive him and focus on your own failings is now.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as confused or betrayed as I did then. Like, man oh man, that was a rough thing to hear, but as the day went on I kept feeling more and more confused and scared – had I misinterpreted everything? Had I miscommunicated something in telling the story? Had I not been objective enough in recounting the threats against my life? Was it true that a senior companion actually had the authority to hurt me if I went against his authority? Was I wrong the whole time? I had no idea, to be honest, but it was bewildering.

Knowing now what I wish I had known then, I would have done things differently. But in the moment, on a mission, knowing that my biggest reason for going on a mission was the hope that the Spirit of God, which hymns told me burns like fire, would burn the faggot out of my heart. I think I felt like I deserved it. Like somehow that elder knew the evil I was hiding and felt compelled by God’s power to hurt me. I think that’s what made it so hard to defend myself in the moment – I did not have that problem with other elders. The companion who told me we were gonna wrestle to settle an argument lost three consecutive matches and pouted about it for like a week. The elder who threatened to punch me for making a joke at his expense got knocked on his ass just for raising his fist. But this elder got into my head first, and that made it hard to fight against it. Instead of fighting against it, I just silently lived with actual, verifiable, diagnosed, by-the-book, DSM-5-TR Posttraumatic Stress Disorder because I thought I deserved it. It took consistent supervision of my clinical work revealing countertransference with Male LDS clients (I consistently discussed addressing shame in a client’s presentation where no shame or discomfort had been reported), an awkward conversation with @inbabylontheywept after an even more awkward dinner with a cousin who vaguely reminds me of that companion, and a bad acid trip where I had visceral flashbacks to my mission, before I was able to realize that I was living with a pain that was as abnormal as it was unnecessary.

Even once I realized it, even once I got help, it was hard. I remember telling jokes about what happened to my therapist and seeing her jaw just…drop. She said she didn’t know it had been that dangerous for me. The session ended and he sent me the PCL-5 (a good, evidence-based, highly face-valid measure for PTSD) and some other measure for dissociative symptoms and I was like “Girl, I just took this class, I know what you’re trying to measure and this ain’t it.” I reported my symptoms accurately and was fully prepped to confront her the next session. She showed me my scores and the norms used, and I was like “Oh fuck, this looks really bad on paper,” and she was like “Yeah, I can’t imagine living like this” and I just sobbed for most of that session. We ended up doing 9 months of TF-CBT and ACT (largely because I am a terrible and uncooperative patient, realistically I think I could have been done in like 5-6 months if I wasn’t so stubborn) before I was discharged from treatment successfully.

The thing that was so weird about starting therapy for PTSD was that it made things feel worse for a while. I started taking edibles a lot more. I started behaving differently around family members and Mormons. I started being outright hostile to elders I could see. It took about 3 months before I could see the missionaries and not have an actual fight-or-flight response to their presence. I think the way I had made it a far as I did without getting treatment was by repressing the thoughts, feelings, and memories that made it all hurt, and a soon as I let them just be there it was like all the confusing aching hurt came back. The first few months of therapy were just spent expanding the amount of time I could feel that hurt before turning to other means (like dissociation, cannabis, repression, etc.) so I could actually address the experiences without crashing the rest of the day. It was hard. I know I ended several sessions sweating a LOT from the exertion it took to just let the feelings happen. By 6 months, however, I could go into a church building without blacking out from panic. By 9 months I could sit in the same room as elders without sweating and shaking like a chihuahua on Adderall. 3 months after therapy and me and my supervisors noticed that my work with Mormon men had improved substantially. 6 months after therapy and I was able to begin writing anonymous stories online. Now, about two years after completing therapy, I feel like I can talk about it without needing the cloak of anonymity, and that is empowering.

Again, I am not sure why I’m typing these stories out – they’re not fun to write, I don’t love that my family can find these posts, but I guess I just like to remind myself and others that it can always get better. That mind numbing platitude, the old thought-terminating cliché that “it gets better, just power through it” doesn’t give enough credit to how much it hurts to get through it, but it does get better. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The triggers can go away with time, great effort, significant expense, and a lot of discomfort. The world can feel safe again, the hurt can feel bearable, that nagging worry that I might have deserved this, or that I did something wrong, can eventually go away too. It’s not easy to do it, and I have an incredible respect for the patients of mine who can pull it off, but it is undeniably as doable a it is difficult. If this story resonates with anyone, if it feels close-to-home, if these experiences feel shared, just know that the relief I talked about can feel shared too. Know that it’s worth it to get the help, that you deserve the help, that you deserve to live a life that doesn’t hurt you, that you deserve to be a full person and not a living prison for the pain and memories. Know that healing yourself does not involve extending forgiveness to Them, whoever They are. That the pain you felt will not be made less important by making the pain less potent. Know that taking care of yourself now is, in a way, taking care of yourself then. And Please, with a capital P, take care of yourselves.

Thank you to my family, especially my immediate family (special shout outs to @flowerologists and @inbabylontheywept) for the support and patience with me as I dealt with this.

Thank you to my therapist, Jordin Borques, who I recommend highly to anyone seeking trauma therapy in Arizona.

Thank you to my wife, @cintailed, for being the push that got me into therapy, and for taking care of me at my worst and still being here with me.

Thanks to my mission president for being such a colossal disappointment to Christianity that my departure from the church was inevitable.

And a general thanks to the queers for being so cute and making life worth living, even on bad days.

[pressurepoint221]

Disliking Caitlyn doesn't make you a good person

Liking or disliking fictional characters doesn't define you. It doesn't make you a good or bad person. It speaks about your preferences and interests. It gives me, a stranger, some information about a few parts of your personality but it doesn't tell me if you're a "good" or "bad guy".

Caitlyn Kiramman is a young female fictional character who enters traditionally male-dominated roles: the leader of her family and strike team and Commander of Piltover. Moreover, she's a lesbian, which makes her character even more groundbreaking for the audience in 2024.

It's up to you, to like, love, dislike, or hate her. Everyone has their own opinions about everything.

What tells me you're an unpleasant person or at least makes me block or avoid you in the digital space?

Systematic expression of your dislike or hate towards a fictional character. For example, I have questions for users who daily or weekly make posts about why Caitlyn is [a long list of bad words] and actively comment under neutral or positive posts about her.

Double standards. For example, when I see a person who likes Silco or Ambessa despite their actions but strongly dislikes Caitlyn for her actions. Also, ignoring the bad actions of their favorite characters (e.g., Jinx) while expressively pointing out the similar actions of another character (e.g., Caitlyn).

Systematic comparison of their favorite character towards others to justify their love towards this character. Another example of Jinx vs Caitlyn fans.

As a lesbian who escaped an authoritarian country with homophobic laws, I'm concerned:

Why are there quite a lot of members of Arcane fandom who constantly describe Caitlyn with the words "f*scist" or "n*zi"? I hope you're not from Italy, Germany, or post-soviet countries. Otherwise, you don't have any excuse to wrongly use these terms.

Why do users think that liking a fictional character (e.g., any character in power in any TV show or movie) is equal to supporting real-life figures like Vl*dimir P*tin (Russia), D*nal Tr*mp (the USA), V*ctor *rban (Hungary), K*m J*ng *n (North Korea), B*shar *l-*ssad (Siria), and others? Do you differentiate between the real and fictional world?

[shadow-riley]

What if, hypothetically, Simon got to hunt the reader down through the woods behind their cabin. (Consentually of course.) And once he caught them he takes them back to the house and fucks them like he's trying to get them pregnant.

TYSM for the idea Anon!!!!

RUN, LITTLE MOUSE SimonRiley x reader

MDNI

tw: consensual pr3y/pr3dat0r, r0ugh s3x, cussing, unpr0tect3d p in v, d3gr@ding, slight pr@ise, cre@mp!e, 0ral (f recieve)

f!reader x Simon Riley

You and Simon had taken a break from 141, to really form a life with him. One night, you decided to be a brat, then ran outside, Simon chasing you. Hunting you. This was consensual of coarse. something about the thrill of being hunted sent an exhilarating chill through you as you ran through the woods of your 5 acres.

"C'mere, ye brat" His voice is thick with his British accent

Simon soon catches you, slinging you over his shoulder and carrying you inside. The second the door is shut and locked, he's fucking you like he wants to be a father.

"SIMON!" you gasp.

He slams you down onto the kitchen floor, your back hitting it with a hard thud, Simon leaning down and kissing you hard.

"You don't get to run from me. Brat."

He flips you over into your stomach, bringing your hips up, and uses his knees to bring yours further apart.

You gasp, the change in position giving you a moments break to breath, but that was short lived until Simon rammed himself into you mercilessly, his dick hard and hitting your g spot everytime.

"Holy fuck simon!"

"Love, you will listen to me. You are mine. I will not stop until you understand that you are mine. I will not stop being possessive over you, and I will not stop making you submit to me"

You soon become a trembling mess, gripping at anything, hell, the kitchen tiles.

"Shh...my pretty little slut...."

He brings his hand around you, rubbing tight circles on your clit, his other hand on your neck, keeping your head up, forcing you to watch yourself in a full length mirror not far from where you lay on the cool tiles.

"that's my girl....fuck..."

He continued to fuck your brains out, only pulling out to see his white slick dripping out of you. The sight makes him feral, his tongue finding its way to your dripping hole.

You can't do anything but whimper and moan, an overstimulated mess.

He buries his face in your sex, not coming up for air.

"you're MINE....i own you...." He grunted.

After he cleaned you up he pick you up off the floor and carries you to your room, where he lay with you, marking your body.

Not too much softer, just less on edge after that.

XOXO tysm for reading!! not proof read!

[ripleylove]

Hard mission.

requested by anonymous saying: Kind of going off of the idea in ‘The light of the group’ can we get a reader who has little candy in her bra? They can be in the middle of a segment w/ the judgement day and will just pull a jolly rancher out.

pairings: the judgment day x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff !!!!

summary: after Damian banned candies,you had to invent any way to eat at least of sweetness. (including hiding a jolly rancher in your bra.)

A/N: started writing again!!! your fav rhea and tjd writer is BACK 🗣

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

As every monday night,you and your friends were rehearsing your lines for your next segment in the clubhouse.

While you and Rhea were giggling together while watching some videos on tiktok,you started munching on some little oreos,giving the part with the cream to Rhea (since it was her favourite).

"Nuh uh. That's enough,Y/N. We don't want the thing that happened yesterday to happen again." Damian walked to you and took the little pack of mini oreos from you.

"But-" You tried to reason,but he wagged his index finger in front of your face,and Dominik silently laughed.

"No buts,missy. No more sweets today."

You pouted,and Dominik was still laughing.

You picked up a red plastic cup that was next to you and you launched it to him with full force,hitting his back.

"Ow! Ow! Okay,damn!" He raised his arms in surrender, and you smirked,turning to Rhea.

The reason why Damian wouldn't let you eat candies it's that the previous day,you had a really bad tummy ache thanks to all the sweets you consumed,and he took matters in his own hands,banning them for 3 days.

And that was the worst thing someone could ever do to you,a major candy lover.

So,you had to find a way to get at least one little candy before your segment, and you asked Rhea to help you.

"Here's the plan: you get me a jolly rancher without Dame noticing. Understood?" You talked to her in a typical action film way,and she firmly nodded.

While Damian was engaged in a conversation with Finn,Rhea tried to sneak in Damian's backpack (the place where he put all of your candies),finding your dear jolly rancher.

She had an evil smile on her face,and you mirrored her expression.

She ran back to the place where the both of you were sitting before,and you gave her a kiss on the cheek as a way to thank her.

"Wait." You started to panic,and Rhea answered.

"What?"

"Where do I hide it?" You whispered,and she pointed to your chest.

You looked down,then up at her again with a confused face.

"And?"

"In your bra,dumbass!" She whispered back,and you finally realised.

Since you were wearing a black lace corset,it was easy to hide and pull out the jolly rancher, and you did your handshake with Rhea.

"You're a fucking genius!" You exclaimed.

"Well,what can I say. Mami's always right." She said cockily and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay guys,time for the segment!" Damian exclaimed,and you all got ready.

The cameramen arrived and you immediately started filming.

While Finn was talking about him qualifying for Money In The Bank with Damian and Rhea, you were by Dominik side,and you discreetly looked around.

When you felt like you were safe to go,you pulled the jolly rancher out from your corset,and you carefully removed the wrapper, popping the cherry flavoured hard candy in your mouth.

Looking around again,you noticed that no one saw what you did,and you smiled in victory.

It definitely was a hard mission.

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa @thegalacticnacho091

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The @hotjaneaustenmenpoll tournament has inspired me to finally write this post, this more than a post, this bit of FUNDAMENTAL Austen adaptation research.

It is well known that there was a Mansfield Park adaptation in 2007, for which the reception went from "eh?" to "huh?", but what most people around here probably don't know, is that this was the cover for the DVD release in Spain:

And you'll naturally ask, who is that handsome blonde man on the right? He definitely isn't Michelle Ryan, we know what she looks like.

He's Baddeley. The butler. The butler at Mansfield Park. Emma's 2020 class commentary this, and Emma 1996 (ITV) social commentary that, but has any of them put a servant on the cover? Thought so. And people have the gall of calling this a bad, unfaithful adaptation :P

So, in honor of Baddeley and his being the only servant I can think of in the Austen canon of whom we have some pov writing, and what is better, that pov is inner snarky thoughts about Mrs Norris, let's have every time Baddeley shows up in MP 2007, witnesses iconic events, and wins his spot on the DVD cover.

Here we have Baddeley serving some refreshments during Henry and Mary's first visit to Mansfield:

Here we have him also serving some wine to sir Thomas during the very awkward dinner that followed his return from Antigua:

Here we have Baddeley making sure Fanny's special picnic goes perfect:

That includes making sure nobody is dying of thirst (dancing is a very taxing activity!):

Here we have him at the zenith moment of his telling Mrs Norris that she's not wanted:

Evil never rests, and neither does Baddeley's commitment to keeping people hydrated, in this case, during a mouth-drying reading of Shakespeare by Henry:

Sometimes Baddeley's work involves improvising, and taking on jobs others would have considered beneath their title, such as carrying Edmund's bags:

Or helping sir Thomas get out of his traveling coat:

But this also has its rewards, as door watch duty allows him to witness the moment sir Thomas yeets Mrs Norris out of Mansfield:

Alas, in a clear commentary on the class issues of the regency era, despite his relevance to the plot and constant presence at life turning moments of the family, he was not invited and nowhere to be seen at Edmund and Fanny's wedding, while absolute strangers got to witness the momentous occasion instead.

Baddeley, friend, don't be sad. You were there, in our hearts.

[reactionimagesdaily]

Reaction images aside, how are you holding up?

Aww, thanks for asking. :P

To be honest, I'm probably doing better than most. I'm a healthy cishet white man who lives in the UK, so I don't have nearly as much to worry about as I know a lot of people do. (Also hey, I'm enjoying the new Dragon Age game, so that's been nice.) But I also know what kind of ramifications this election is bound to have, both inside the US and beyond.

(I mean, the world's biggest democracy is getting overtly more hostile and authoriarian in real time (y'know. again), and I know on this side of the pond we've got some real brain donors who'd love to see something similar happen here. I'm worried about what Trump could do once he's back in charge, and I'm worried about what might happen to my own country, with it's 'special relationship' to the US, as a result. And I'm not alone in that.

All this on a fuckin' Wednesday...)

Anyway, I had a longer thing written out here about the concept of orthopraxis (just while I was trying to get my thoughts in order, lmao) but the core of what I want to say is this:

I think we're about to see an uptick in people being shitty

I'm going to counter that by doing un-shitty things

What do I mean by un-shitty things? Well, I've been meaning to participate in Amnesty International's 'Write For Rights' campaign for months - I just fired off my first email today. I've already donated to causes supporting Gaza in the past, but now I'm also planning to write to my local MP about how annoyed I am that my country is still culpable in genocide. Make my voice heard, you know? I also want to keep making art that people enjoy, because I think that's important. And I'm going to buy another commission from an artist I like, because they could probably use something good in their life right now. And... to be honest, I'm not sure what else I'll do yet. When I figure it out, though, I'll try and actually do it.

Maybe for you, un-shitty things mean something smaller scale. Hugging your loved ones for longer, or giving that loose change you always carry around to the next homeless person you see. That's good too. Maybe it's something larger in scale, and that's awesome! But to anyone who's reading this, I'd definitely recommend doing something that not only feels good, but is also TANGIBLE. Not only does doing feel good, but it means that you're improving someone else's life, in however small a way. Which, y'know. Net positive, innit.

(Yes, I'm aware this is basically the 'when you see someone being so mean it inspires you to be kinder meme', lmao. No, I don't really care.)

You asked me how I'm holding up? Well, the first thing I'd like to do is respond to your question in kind: how are you holding up? In a general sense? In specific ways? Hopes, anxieties, plans?

And the next thing I'm going to do is tell you that I'm more than holding up.

I'm locking in.

[plzturnmeoutceral]

I have been a kn0tty slut and a farm slut for most of my life. I have always loved pleasing and helping the good boys at my house. I can’t imagine if I never tried it as it’s far too exciting to do….

Message me on sessions- 05e4dda70f0eba0ba9a2c1ad96c2062f671cadd3a447a7f34743161c8759b4cb27.

Or on here

[a-special-ship-safe-space]

Hey, to those people who have f/os who like to drink booze, milk, tea, soda, etcetc

They came to the casino like a few days ago. They have been yapping about you a bunnnch, saying their best moment of their day is seeing you, being able to hold you, and just hanging out with you! They were so in love that it made me chuckle! Like good lord, it was cheesy!!

Some of them said yall got kids that they are soooo lucky to have the most wonderful partner to take care of them with them! They swear you are too good for them!

Might wanna pepper them in kisses later just saying.

No prosh/p, c/mship, neutural, tru/mp supporters or etcetc please! Yall aint welcome here!

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

So I’m a HUGE fan of angst. With Joe’s temper and with being unhinged from the war, any kind of physical affection can get a little rough. 😈 I feel like it’s totally his style and everyone needs to know it. Frienemies to lovers with angst and classy smut and a happily ever after is how we all deserve Joe Liebgott. 😘🥰 🪖♠️ 🦅

Oil and water - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, smut (p in v), fingering, angry sex to soft sex, mentions of violence and war/death, cursing, 1st person POV (female), female body part descriptions.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I had so much fun with this request and wrote this faster than any of my other fics! I hope you like it, @she-wolf09231982lovely, and that I did it justice!! Please let me know what you think and if you want a different one done if I didn't quite hit the points you wanted. As always, feel free to leave comments, likes, and reblogs; they make me happy! :)

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

Another punch echoes in the room, followed by more yelling. The man sitting in the chair can barely open his eyes as blood covers his entire face. I try to find any sense of morality and sympathy but come up with nothing. He's a replacement that got drunk, killed two German's and shot Chuck Grant in the head before stealing a car and trying to hide. He'd yet to show any type of remorse for his actions and the men around me were getting closer and closer to doling out their own personal justice.

Everyone got quiet and backed out of the way when Spiers came in like a dark thundercloud and hit the man across the face. In the blink of an eye, he had a gun pointed right at the man's face and just held it there. My stomach dropped and I glanced over at Liebgott next to me, but his face was dark and unfazed. Spiers would probably kill this man and no one was going to bat an eye. This was wrong. The war is over and we are still losing our friends and companions.

After a long, tense moment Spiers lowers his gun and commands us to take the man to the MP's. As he's walking away I hear him tell Tab that Grant is going to pull through, thanks to a Kraut doctor. For the first time since this night started I feel like I can breathe a little. I follow the rest of my company into the street as we follow Spiers' orders. Suddenly a scuffle erupts and our prisoner has briefly broken free from the group and is trying to run away.

I'm the closest to him and immediately run and tackle him to the ground. As I'm attempting to get him flipped around and restrained, he elbows me hard in the gut knocking the air out of me. As I'm trying to catch my breathe, a pair of arms lifts me up and I'm being pulled away from the group. Someone is steering me to an empty house and all I can hear is more yelling and fighting behind us.

Once we are inside and seating in someone's abandoned house on a couch, I look up to see who I'm with. Liebgott. To say I'm shocked is an understatement. We only look out for each other during battle, because that's our job and we are soldiers. The only times we semi get along is when we are around our friends and can use them as buffers. It's been a running joke through Easy that we are oil and water and should never be left alone together because we'd both end up dead. Now here we are totally alone and emotions are running off the rails.

"You hurt?" His face is stone cold and his voice is almost filled with disgust, like he was forced to look after me and didn't put himself in this situation.

"I'm fine. You can go." I bite out, wincing as I press on the tender spot.

"Stop being such an uptight bitch. Let me look." Liebgott rolls his eyes as he moves my hands away and lifts up my shirt. I glare at him and then glance down. The spot is a deep red and I can see spots where my blood vessels have burst. It's gonna be a hell of a bruise soon.

"Okay, you got to lift my shirt up. Good job. Go away." I shift out of his hold and cover my torso again. His glare hardens on me.

"What's your fucking problem?"

Scoffing, I jump up and pace a little ways away. "We just beat a fellow soldier bloody and Spiers almost shot him right in front of us. He deserves to be punished for what he did, but we can't start taking justice into our own hands. That's now who we are!"

"Spiers should have killed him. Grant is our friend. If anyone should give that punishment, it should have been one of us." His voice is cold and detached. We were never best friends, but it hurts a part of my heart to hear how this war has been changing him.

"Of course you would say that." I laugh humorlessly and spin to face him. He jumps up from the couch and stomps over to get in my face.

"What's that mean?"

"I heard about your little road trip the other day. I know shit's been different since Landsberg, but that's no excuse to go hunting people down and playing judge, jury, and executioner." I straighten my back and stand still as he leans further into my face. He's never focused so much anger towards me before but I'll be damn if I show any type of reaction to it.

"You don't know fucking shit. How can you? It's not your people that's been tortured and killed this whole war. Now why don't you go bat your pretty little eyes at someone who cares what you think and leave me the fuck alone."

Before I know it, I'm pushing him away from me. Hard. He takes half a step back and continues to glare at me. So I do it again, and again, until I'm beating at his chest with my fists. I'm so angry and he's the perfect target to let it out on. In the blink of an eye he has my hands in a death grip in one of his and is pushing me backwards with his other hand on my waist. He holds my hands above my head as my back hits a wall and keeps his hand on my waist.

I'm not sure who moves their head first, all I know is that we meet in the middle and it's not a kind or tender kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and biting. Neither of us want to submit so we keep at it until we are breathless and our lips are bruised. He releases my hands, which immediately fly to his hair to pull hard enough to make him wince, and places his newly open hand around my throat. When he applies pressure, I moan and press myself closer to him. A flash of something other than anger moves across his eyes; lust.

"You going to be a good girl and take what I give you?" His voice is low and rough. I feel myself clench around nothing. Never one to be agreeable with him, I just smirk.

"Fuck you." Joe just smirks back and shoves his hand that was on my waist down my pants and under my underwear.

"Feels like that's what you want." He watches my face as his fingers glide through my soaked folds, parting them to rub directly on my clit. Another moan escapes me but is cut short by his hand squeezing my neck again. "Eyes on me."

I open my mouth to say something flippant back but only a gasp comes out when I feel him shove two fingers inside me and start pumping them in and out. The hand on my neck alternates between squeezes and lightly stroking my skin. I keep my eyes on his face, taking in how clenched his jaw is and the way his pupils are blown wide. Another moan comes out when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

He shifts closer to me, angling his hand so he can keep hitting that spot and rub my clit at the same time. His face stops when our lips are a hairs breathe away.

"That's my good girl. Take it." He places a soft kiss against my lips that's such a sharp contrast to the pressure on my neck and movement of his hand inside me. Joe leans his forehead against mine and keeps repeating his previous words as my orgasm gets closer and breaks through so hard I see stars.

As my vision starts to return I hazily watch him bring his soaked hand up to his mouth. The moan he lets out after tasting me is sinful and has me clenching again. When he's done, I pull his head back to mine, kissing and licking his lips begging for entrance. My own moan comes out when he opens his mouth and I taste myself on his tongue. Suddenly we are a blur of moving limps as we dispose of our clothes, not caring where they land and move back to the couch. We land with him on top of me and I roll my hips up to feel his erection slip through my folds.

Just as his tip slips in, Joe freezes above me and time stops. He's got one hand holding my thigh up around his waist and the other is on the arm of the couch, keeping him hovering over me. He trails his hand from my thigh, up my side, over my breast and up to cup my cheek. Our breathing slows down as we just look at each other, his hand holding my face like I might break if he's not careful. I run my own hand up his back and cup his cheek in the same fashion, gently pulling him towards me.

"Are you sure?" He whispers against my lips, eyes searching mine. They're softer now, the anger having melted away and now there's an open rawness in its place. I nod my head and whisper a soft 'yes' as I pull him into our first slow kiss of the evening.

Carefully, he pushes himself inside me and pauses again when he's bottomed out and our hips are flush against each other. We exchange more slow kisses and when I gently nip his lip, he knows it's okay to start moving. Once he sets the pace, slow, thorough and unrushed, we know this isn't just a simple fuck. Neither of us speak, just let ourselves get lost in the feelings as we moan and gasp against each others lips. As I start to clench around him signaling the approach of my second orgasm, I moan his name. Joe picks up the pace, some of the earlier frenzy returning as he focuses on pushing me over the edge again.

All I can keep saying is his name and after a few more thrusts, I'm seeing stars for the second time that night. I feel his thrusts become uneven as he chases his own release, moans flying out of his mouth. When he cums, he presses himself as far into me as he can and says my name like a prayer against my lips. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

Once we've stabled our breathing a little, we shift around so we are laying more comfortably on the couch, him still half inside me, completely entangled together. Joe leans up just enough to pull a blank from the back of the couch over us and tucks me back in against him. It's silent as we enjoy the afterglow and feel of each others skin.

"Did I hurt you?" Joe whispers, kissing the top of my head. I smile and kiss his chest.

"No more than I wanted you to." We share a small laugh. "I thought oil and water could never mix."

Joe pulls back enough to look at my face, "I don't think we are oil and water. I think we are something that can't be defined." He drops a kiss on my lips and then lays back down. "Now, get some sleep. We are going for breakfast tomorrow and then wherever you wanna go for the whole day."

I fall asleep with a smile on my face, not knowing he does too.

[howlingday]

HEY, I'M GRUMP~!

I'M NOT SO GRUMP~!

AND WE'RE THE GAME GRUMPS~!

Jaune: Hey, guys...

Ruby: Welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition.

Jaune: Yeah, I- Wait, what the fuck?

Ruby: What?

Jaune: You gotta clear these intros with me before we start.

Ruby: Hahahaha! Alright! Can I open with "Pyrrha Nikos Expedition"?

Jaune: Absolutely~.

Ruby: Alright. Run the intro again.

Jaune: Wha

HEY, I'M GRUMP~! I'M NOT SO GRUMP~!

AND WE'RE THE GAME GRUMPS~!

Ruby: Hey, welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition...

Jaune: Yeah.

Ruby: ...to the Ever After!

Jaune: Uh-huh?

Ruby: Sorry, I added in that last part.

Jaune: Yeah, y'know what? I'm gonna need clearance on that, too.

Ruby: Alright, we'll start over.

!~SPMURG EMAG EHT ER'EW DNA

Ruby: Hey, welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition to the Ever After!

Jaune: Cool.

Ruby: Wait, I didn't actually clear it with you.

Jaune: GOD DAMMIT!

Ruby: Is that okay?

Jaune: ...YES.

Ruby: Alright. Run the intro.

Jaune: Uuuuuuuuu

m G r u m n o t s o

G R U M P S ~ !

AAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAA

Ruby: Hey, welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition to the Ever After, starring me, Ruby Rose~!

Jaune: Why- What- Starring you?

Ruby: Yeah! Somebody has to narrate it, right?

Jaune: Ah, okay.

Ruby: She's on her expedition; she doesn't have time!

Jaune: Right, right, right. Okay, I'm sorry.

Ruby: ...

Jaune: ...Alright, run the intro again. Hahahahaha!

Ruby: Alright.

MgmImSpNt

Ruby: Welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition to the Ever After, starring me, Ruby Rose- Uh, not starring Jaune Arc.

Jaune: Um... Can we fucking... So, I'm out? I'm just out then?

Ruby: Um... Well, uh... Did you want to be?

Jaune: You're just fucking strong-arming me on this one?

Ruby: Do you want to be-

Jaune: Yeah, of course I want to be in it!

Ruby: Well, you never said-

Jaune: I always wanted to go to the Ever After- RUN THE INTRO AGAIN!

H E Y , I ' M G R U M P ~ ! I ' M N O T S O G R U M P ~ !

A N D W E ' R E

Ruby: Hey, welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expediction to the Ever After, starring me, Ruby Rose, and I guess, also starring Jaune.

Jaune: Expediction?

Ruby: I- Fuck! Run it again!

Jaune: Hahahaha!

Ga

MPS~!

Ruby: Hey, welcome back to Pyrrha Nikos Expedition to the Ever After, starring Ruby Rose and also Jaune Arc, who is apparently a fucking stickler for pronunciation!

Jaune: Yes~! Now we can start Game Grumps~!

HEY, I'M GRUMP~!

I'M NOT SO GRUMP~!

AND WE'RE THE GAME GRUMPS~!

[eri-pl]

Tengwar <3

It's the best thing Feanor made. Seriously. Nobody will murder you for using Tengwar. Nobody will hack your brain when you use Tengwar in the wrong moment. (The lamps are ok, but kinda meh, Tengwar is better)

Did you know, just did you know, that every consonant has a name, and the name is a noun, and some are really cool (and foreshadowing)? (chart and translations below the cut)

So, if you want a chart, here is a chart. And the names are (I don't have diacritics, so I just double the long vowels) (Quenya mode, with some historical notes from LotR appendix and elvish.org):

"Normal stuff Feanor had on his desk" row:

T tinco - metal

P parma - book

K calma - lamp (like those Feanor made? Or... like those Aule made)

Q quesse - feather (birds are important!)

"Things that keep you trapped" row:

ND ando - gate (like... the Door of Night?)

MB umbar - doom (doesn't need a comment...)

NG anga - iron (also, used in sword names, even for non-iron swords)

NGW (in TA changed to NW) ungwe - spider's web (foreshadowingsight on Feanor's part? :) )

"Mountain things???" row

S suule - spirit or breath (Manwe Sulimo... king of winds and stuff...) | TH thuule - spirit or breath, but I'm a Feanorian, or at least I'm a linguistics geek and love the phonetic scheme (me! but otoh it sounds dumb :( ), or I love the Teleri and/or Sindar, who use it as th (Finarfin, iirc).

F formen - north

H (h before t) harma (voiceless velar fricative phonetically /x/... I think. the sources are confusing. In TA mostly softened into a breath h.) - treasure (my precious Silmarills...) | aha (later renamed, idk when) - rage (my Silmarils! and, even more importantly, my father!)

HW (like "wh" in "why" especially the fancy British way of saying it where it's actyally h-w, not w-h) hwesta - breeze

"We need to name a row after places of articulation" row

NT anto - mouth (couldn't you think of a better name? I get it's a place-of-articulation row, but i don't like it anyway)

MP ampa - hook

NC anca - jaw

NQ unque - hole

"Things that Melkor likes" row:

N nuumen - west (Numenor...)

M malta - gold

NG (by TA: N) noldo - Noldo, as in type of Elf. Yes, it was initially Ngoldo. I mean, initially initially it was a gnome, so...

NW nwalme - tornment

"I have no idea but vaguely positive-metaphysical?..." row

R (pre-consonant or end-of-the-word R | non-vibrating r, whatever this means. My bet is that it's "r" as in Japanese --- position like "r", movement like "d") oore - heart (or: rising. Guess whose name includes this component. funny that it's the same word as heart, especially given that heart is also defined as conscience here)

V vala - power (duh.)

Y (? it has some history) [there was a consonant here]anna - gift (totally not made into a sus word by now...)

W/V (Initially W, by TA changed to V) wilya - air / lower sky (funny how those two names are next to one another. )

"Really, I think Feanor ran out of ideas for coherent name sets" row

R (vibrating, typpical "rrr") romen - east (the same sound being written with "East" and with a word alternatively translating to "heart" or part of Melkor's name --- I love it! Why? See my recent post. I love that. Call it a coincidence, but I love it)

RD arda - realm

L lambe - speech

LD alda - tree (!)

Now we are not in regular rows, so, the extra letters:

S silme - starlight (or... metaphysically important light in general? because guess what word is connected to this one. Also, funny how it's just after "tree"). It's always S, never TH.

(nuquerma is just "flipped" or something I guess)

Z aaze - day / sunlight (in Noldorin changed to Z - aare) | SS esse (Numenor and later, because they did not use the "z" sound, I think) - name

HY (Numenor and later: H) hywarmen - south

I yanta - bridge

U uure - heat

(doesn't have a sound, in Sindarin it's A) osse - terror (I guess he isn't a very nice Maia?)

H (voiceless h: /h/ not /x/; in TA replaced by harmen) halla - tall | gasdil - stop

(short wovel carrier) telco - stem

(long carrier) aara - dawn

The Tengwa names after directions are also used as marks in the compass (like we use NSWE) And snarky comments aside, I love the schema and how the names connect into many interesting and often Silm-events-related patterns. I love how each (almost) row is named after a set of similar things.

I'm not an expert, and if I made some mistakes, I'll be grateful for corrections.

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Evermore: Part. 2: Chapter. Three

Hello everyone! I hope all is well with everyone and that everyone is having a good week so far. Work is work, and I love it!

2 Months Later

Andy pulled up to the base, flashed his ID to the guard, drove right through, and was still driving his best friend's truck. As he drove, he looked down and smiled.

When he came home from his morning run, he saw a note on the table indicating that you had made him coffee and packed lunch so he wouldn't have to grab food. Since living alone, he has been used to not cooking for himself and just eating out. He only knows how to cook instant noodles, Rice, and Eggs. Now that he’s back home, just having something like this made him happy, especially since it came from you.

Once Andy parked at his designated spot, he got out, grabbed his things, and headed into the law offices. Saluting some people on his way, he walked into the building and was greeted by his secretary. She stood up quickly, and before she could say anything, Andy opened the door and was greeted by a man sitting on the opposite side of his desk.

The man turned around, and Andy immediately recognized him. He turned back to his secretary and signaled that it was okay, and she closed the door.

“Major Navon, what brings you here?” Andy asked, taking a seat at his desk.

“Well, General Barber. I’m not quite sure.” Sam said, placing the thick concealed file in front of Andy. He frowned and glanced back at Sam.

“What’s this?” Andy asked. Sam sighed and wiped his face.

“Look, I know it’s been five years since your friend's death, but something came up, and I didn’t have a choice but to dig up his files.”

“What do you mean? Ari died in a Humvee accident.” Andy asked, knowing for sure that’s what happened.

“Just recently, more like a month ago, there’s been talk about that incident. So I asked one of the lawyers and the MPs.” Sam paused and leaned forward.

“Someone has been messing with the reports. Ari Levinson and part of the platoon in the car were murdered.” Sam said. 

Andy stared at Sam for a moment, almost wanting to laugh. But Sam was serious, and he quickly dismissed that thought.

“Sam, I don’t. This can’t be true, Sam.” Andy said, trying to process the information.

“Okay, but we both know the explosion that happened, right?” Andy added.

“Yes, that is correct. The Humvee exploded, and the driver lost control. That’s what his files say.” Sam said as Andy opened the confidential documents. 

Andy read through the files, and seeing Ari for the first time tore his heart away. Seeing the gruesome way he passed hurt him. Andy closed the file and looked over to Sam.

“I have to look this over with my team. I assume you want me to take this case?” Andy asked. 

Sam sighed and crossed his legs over, “Yes, nobody wants to take it. They all assume it’s a complete accident, and there is concrete evidence. And knowing you and your reputation? You can get this done.” 

Andy thought for a moment and leaned back into his chair. “Only on one condition.”

“Anything,” Sam responded. 

Andy sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Y/N cannot l know about this until I get enough evidence.”

Sam sat up, and the same with Andy. Sam then held out his hand, and Andy took it.

“A deal. If you have any questions-“

“I got it, Sam. I'll have my team come as soon as possible,” Andy said. 

And with that, Sam left. The moment the door closed, Andy sat down and leaned back into his chair. He sat there for a moment and then reached for his office phone.

Yes sir?

Hi Margie, I need you to gather the team and get them to Bedford as soon as possible.

Was there a reason, sir?

I have a high-profile case that is a high priority.

Okay, and was there anything else, sir?

Yes, give any case that I have to the Jr’s. I need my full attention on this one.

And with that, Andy hung up and went to work.

**

After a long day, Andy found himself driving home. You had called him earlier to say there was dinner at the house, and Jake was home, too. That put a sour taste in his mouth. He shouldn’t be jealous or upset. You deserve to be happy, but there is something about the man that he doesn’t like. By the time Andy had arrived, Jake’s car was in the driveway. Andy parked Ari’s truck next to Jake’s.

As he entered, he could hear conversation and soft responses from Chloe, and Andy sighed.

“Hey, Bug!” Andy called out, putting his bag down. The sound of the chair moving and little feet were heard.

“Uncle DeeDee!” Chloe yelled as she ran towards him, and he picked her up.

“Hi, Chloe. Did you have a good day?” Andy asked. 

Chloe wiped her hair away from her face and smiled. 

“We played in the park, and I did many pictures!” Chloe said with excitement.

“She indeed had a good day.” Andy heard that beautiful voice. He looked to the kitchen entranceway, only to see you and that bastard. Andy smiled and headed over to you.

Jake was about to shake his hand when he noticed the pin on his jacket. Jake raised his hand and gave him a salute.

“General,” Jake said. Andy gave a half smile and saluted him back. You rolled your eyes, and Chloe laughed.

“Anyway, Andy, you must be hungry. Have a seat, and I’ll make you a plate. It’s linguine and fettuccine Sauce, with a salad and bread.” You said, turning around and towards the kitchen. Andy placed Chloe down, and she ran to her seat, taking him with her. Once he was down at his seat, Jake sat before Andy. It was quiet for a moment.

“I hear that you and Y/N have been friends since she was five,” Jake said. Andy nodded. That is true, along with my best friend.”

Before Jake could respond, Chloe was by Andy’s side, tapping him on his arm. He looked to his side and saw she had a cold brown bottle.

“Uncle DeeDee, here’s your drink!” Chloe said. 

Andy smiled and took the cold beverage from her. “Thank you!”

**

After dinner, Chloe was sitting on the couch watching TV, and your phone rang while you were cleaning the kitchen. Andy was in the bathroom, washing his hands. You looked all over the kitchen for it until you realized that it was in your bag.

“Jake, can you get my phone? It’s in my bag in the living room.” You said. 

Jake nodded and headed to the living room. As he got to the table, Jake opened the bag, and a thick folder came out. Jake frowned and opened the file.

Ari Steven Levinson

Deceased

US ARMY CAPTAIN, 501st AIRBORNE DIVISION

Jake’s whole body drained of blood, and his body started shaking.

KILLED IN ACTION. A CAR EXPLODED IN FRONT OF HIS JEEP, CAUSING HIS DRIVER TO LOSE CONTROL AND SLAM INTO A BUILDING.

“That’s my bag.” 

Jake heard and turned around to see Andy standing behind him. Andy showed no expression as he snatched the file from him and placed it back into his bag. Then Andy grabbed Y/N’s bag and shoved it against Jake’s chest. He looked at Andy and quickly went back to the kitchen. Andy placed the file into his bag and closed the clasp on it. Before he headed back into the kitchen, Jake walked past him, and you followed behind.

“Is there something wrong?” Andy heard Y/N, and Jake sighed.

“I got a random important call from my major. I don’t know what it is, but it seems urgent,” Jake said, and Andy turned slightly. He knew listening was rude, but he couldn’t help it. The way Jake acted, and his body language told him he was lying.

For as long as he’s been a lawyer and the fact he’s damn good at it, he knows when someone is lying. And Jake is one of them.

The front door opened and closed. Andy then turned around to see you stumped.

“What happened?” Andy asked, placing his hands into his pockets. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know. He went to get my bag, and when he returned, Jake looked like he had seen a ghost,” you said. 

Andy looked at you for a moment. “Are you worried? You look concerned.”

You sighed again and shook your head. Before Andy responded, Chloe came in and hugged her mom’s leg. The two of you knew that it was her bedtime. You then picked her up and placed her on your hip.

“Sleepy bug?” You asked. 

Holding onto her Pua, she nodded and laid her head on your shoulder.

“Okay, say good night to Uncle DeeDee.” You said. Chloe lifted her head and held out her arms towards him. Andy then scooped her up and placed her onto his hip.

“Good night, Bug! Sleep tight and-“ Andy started.

“And no, let the scarwy monsters eat me!” Chloe said, giggling. Andy kissed her cheek and placed her down. Chloe ran to her mom and brought her upstairs.

“I’ll finish cleaning up here,” Andy said as he returned to the kitchen.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit.” You said.

**

30 Minutes Later

Andy sat in the family room with two glasses of Sweet Pinot Grigio. He looked behind him to see you taking a seat next to him. You smiled while picking up the glass.

“Before we start the movie, tomorrow is Saturday, Andy. Do you have any plans?” You asked. 

Andy knew why Saturdays were important. Even when he was deployed in Germany, you would video call him and spend a few moments with his best friend.

“I’m free. What time do you want to leave? I’ll drive. I was also thinking of spending the day there, too.” Andy said.

You smiled once more. “Oh, that’s a good idea. Let’s have a picnic at the beach, and Chloe wants me to teach her how to skate.”

Andy laughed as a memory came to him. “You remember when Ari tried to teach you?”

Your face started to blush, which made Andy laugh even more.

“Yeah, and that ended up being our first kiss.” You said.