#ask o

[wyn-n-tonic]

Dropping Polaroids here and there… 💋

don't think about Joel getting a blowjob. don't think about Joel getting a blowjob. don't think about Joel getting a blowjob. don't think about Joel—

[wyn-n-tonic]

I’m so sorry about everything that’s going on. I hope that you’ll get the care you need, and that everything works out for you in the end

I’m rooting for you eternally

oh nonny, thank you!

i admit, i was crashing the fuck out earlier. i have heard back from my therapist who said she had notes going back four years about how much pain i'm in and how much i hate my chest. i have an appointment with my PCP in the morning to discuss this and my allergist emailed me back but it's been a day. it's 9:15pm and i'm just now eating my first proper meal and i've only not been working for about half an hour.

i do appreciate this so much, i hope that things will look a little brighter in this regard tomorrow. i'm just at such a loss over everything that has happened that dealing with this this morning is what absolutely sent me over the edge.

[wyn-n-tonic]

On your post about reblogs, when I first got Tumblr I never reblogged for interacted with stories or writers. After seeing posts about it from writers saying how Reblogs is how this site works.

I started reblogging and commenting and it's honestly built such a better Tumblr experience. It's become more of a community than me just sitting alone on this site. I've actually made friends from here by engaging

If you are like that I really honestly recommend that you try engaging. Even make a side blog for writing you have enjoyed and want to post about

i'm going to be so fucking honest anon, this is how some of my best friends in this fandom have become my best friends. they made a side blog and they reblogged and we started interacting. both recently and when i first had tumblr in like 2008 and i'm still friends with these people in the year of our lord 2023. like, i've been to their weddings, they've been to my house and vice versa, i send their babies presents. we've been to soccer games all over the world together. we share books and languages and television shows that we love and have built a relationship out of those things while also learning, 'hey, i love this person a whole lot and i'm so grateful that fandom put them in my life.'

like i saw somebody reblog my post and put a tag on it that was like, 'lol i'm not demanding anybody do anything.' NEITHER AM I. i'm saying that reblogs are the purpose of fandom, interaction is the purpose of fandom, because community is the goal of fandom. if people don't like making friends, that sucks for them. i fucking love making friends.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Bailey watches the rom-com channel with a little treat?! Is she me?! lol

What do you think her favourite rom-com is and what’s her favourite treat?

Also please give her a snuggle from me 💕

So it's honestly just like the most B-list rom coms. I'm talking stuff that the Hallmark Channel wouldn't even take so maybe even Z list rom coms??? They're so bad and I turn them off as soon as I come in the house but I like the television being on so that people think somebody is home and also it keeps her company.

Her favorite treat is the Greenies sticks. She actually will respond when I say "teeth treat" and like act like a damn fool. She also likes the little MarrowSnacks from MilkBone. I hadn't bought them for her before but it's what our CEO keeps in the office to give to all the pups.

Also, funny thing happened today... I went into the office and people were actually pissed that I left Bailey at home.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Hi!

Assuming your sleepover is still sleepover-ing..

FMK: Jeans Edition. Your choices are..

Frankie's end of Triple Frontier outfit jeans (we won't mention the flip flops)

Joel's dusty denim corpse throwin' jeans

Javier Peña's painted on bouncin' down the stairs jeans

El

💜

Hello, 911, I’d like to report a murder.

Um… so we’re gonna burn the corpse throwing jeans so we’re killing those. Sorry, Joel. We’re fucking Javi. Are you kidding? Ride of your life right there. Thinking of him years after. Always being brought up in fights because the lasting impression is that strong.

We’re marrying Frankie. Again, are you kidding? That’s my baby. That’s my man for real.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Might be a little late but I love sleepovers! I don’t have any pets (yet) unfortunately but seeing the “tell me about your pets” option made me think about asking you that instead! Bailey is the cutest and sweetest looking fr, I adore any time you show her! 🤗

There's no such thing as late!

I'd love to tell you about my Bailey girl!

Ms. Bailey has become a very big hit at mommy's office where she has free run of the building. I was in the file room putting away my stacks on stacks on stacks of paperwork and she was with me and then she wasn't. When I found her, she was in my CEO's office getting treats and being told what a pretty girl she is (she is). She is currently trying to convince me to spend the money on a queen sized bed so that she has even more room to stretch out while sleeping after a long, hard day of being a dog. She likes Hallmark movies and will not eat unless I mix a little bit of wet food with her kibble AND microwave it so it's nice and warm for her.

[wyn-n-tonic]

O! I feel this on the writing juices!

How about i want to see you for Marcus Pike?

well... this is about four months late and i'm so sorry but thank you for being patient with me, my love.

Word Count: 477 Author's Note: Not explicit. Written in first person but no descriptions so...

Maybe I’ve forgotten what it felt like—touch, desire, the quiet intimacy of close contact in a warm bed.

Love.

With a gentle touch and soft brown eyes, he’s right here. Telling me what I’ve been missing the whole time. I keep thinking about how funny it is, too. Because I don’t think I ever really knew what all those things I’ve been missing felt like.

Everything up til now—up til him—has been about my body. My sexuality. My willingness to perform for their pleasure and never demand any of my own. But I was in love with him before I knew it and I didn’t want to give solely because he wanted to take. Truth be told, he didn’t want to take anything.

It was constant back and forth from the moment he held on close and half drunk and whispered, “I wanna see you.”

Marcus’ fingers are curled around my upper thigh, a tight grip as he fights against heavy lids as if sleeping is just unacceptable right now.

Six weeks ago, I’d given up on something like this ever being my reality and now I’m too hasty with my feelings and declarations without an ounce of embarrassment because he beats me to it every time and all it’s ever felt is right.

“I know it’s early—“ 

“Marcus, it’s midnight.”

He yawns, trying his best to shake his head against the pillow. “I meant between us.”

“Oh. I guess.”

“Don't do that, baby,” he whispers. “Don't give me that tone, I’m not saying it as a bad thing.” 

His grip tightens and he pulls my body closer to his, resettling his own body against mine with a closeness I’ve never had.

“You're so beautiful,” he breathes out. “I’m so glad I spilled coffee all over you, can’t believe that put us here together now.”

“I think my chest is still a little red from that.”

His nose bunches up. “I think that’s a hickey.”

When I try to pull away in mock annoyance, he grabs harder still to hitch my leg around his hip and presses himself up between my legs again. It took him three dates to say he loves me and he immediately backpedaled and begged for forgiveness never wanting to cause discomfort. 

“I love you,” he says for the second or fourth or eighth time tonight. “God, I fucking adore you and I know it’s early but—fuck—nobody’s ever seen me the way you do.”

Waiting for another yawn to pass his lips, I try to push more space from between our bodies—try to take in as much warmth from him as possible. He’s right, it’s early and, maybe, there are flags my colorblind eyes are missing in this teenage daydream, honeymoon haze we find ourselves in. I’d like to soak in as much of it as possible.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Could you please write “ I can’t get enough of you” with rhett abbott? 💜

oop. i love my boy.

Rhett Abbott is not a soft man.

At least, that’s not how anybody would describe him.

Persistent. Hardworking. Honest. Loyal. Not soft.

Out here, soft might as well be just another synonym for dead.

Or, at least, that’s how most ranchers see it, hardened over by both the sun and the cold.

But with you? In the small confines of your apartment or the closed doors of the old truck he drives? God, he might as well be putty in your hands, molding against your curves every chance he gets.

“I fucking can’t get enough of you, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pulling out and pushing deeper. “What did I do before you?”

“Rode bulls and got into fights,” you whine.

He laughs. “I still do that,” he says through heavy breaths. “Just have less time for it now since I live between your legs.” 

“You're so gross,” you tell him, fingers curving around his neck to pull him down. “I love you so much but you’re so disgusting.”

“You love me?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you as he stills.

“I—uh.” You breathe deep through your nose. “Yeah.”

That’s the first time you’ve said it and embarrassment is flooding through you. Because what if you read it all wrong? What if you read him wrong? What if all you are is just sex? 

A smile spreads across his face, relief flooding across his eyes. “I thought you’d never say it and I didn't want to be the first.”

“Why not?” 

“Kinda weird to tell a girl you’re in love with her on the first date," he laughs. “But holy shit, you are the best.”

“Okay.”

He laughs. “Okay.” 

From there, he melts into you, lips in your ear and pace slowed to a languid grind with small praises falling from his lips.

“There’s my girl,” he says, pushing his hips against yours again as you start to tighten against him. “Jesus Christ, there's my fucking girl.” 

He collapses, fingernails dug into the meat of your thigh, with his lips pressed into your temple, the side of your nose, your lips.