Fake HC 10 dashboard mayhaps??
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☀️ pearlescent-post Follow
Reminder to love yourself! Smell the trees! Everything will be okay in the end 😊 ☀️
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nvm gem ran out of pickles im depressed again
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I RESTOCKED THIS MORNING HOW HAVE YOU ALREADY SOLD ME OUT
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🎣 mending-book-fanatic Follow
day 126 without a mending book
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🚂 scars-axasqottles Follow
uM hey @.hpo-official could i ask why you havent' received my messages?/? Every calsl Ive made just puts me on holdd
⬜️ hpo-official-948204deactivated
Sorry about that, sir. Admin error. I'll speak to my manager.
🚂 scars-axasqottles Follow
...hELLO?
🌸 joel-beans Follow
lmao they deactivated what a loser
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Remember there's a person behind every poor worker! I see you bullies in the notes
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@/mending-book-fanatic is a hermit permit office spy confirmed??
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🌸 joel-beans Follow
Guys everyone agrees that purpur is cheap and beautiful and godlike and everyone should go buy it right now this second *sweats*
🌲 supreme-judge-bd Follow
I feel like I'm missing something...
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SHE HAS EYES EVERYWHERE BDUBS
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Joel!
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If I don’t respond within the hour assume she got me
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🎩 symmetrical-minister Follow
anyone know a good shop for ethically-sourced wood?? i normally shop at big wood but ive heard things about a mafia :/
🪓 big-salmon Follow
That is absolutely NOT true!! If anything you should be targeting the crypto scheme at Big Wood,,
⌛️ d0ctorm77 Follow
aaaand this is why you should never trust businessmen in red suits
🪓 big-salmon Follow
says the one compensating with a massive HOURGLASS of all things
🐍 puppet-master Follow
Actually @.big-salmon Xisuma_voyd made a really well-explained video here going into detail about all of the shady elements of Big Wood, it's worth a watch.
🐟 gemstone Follow
To answer the original question OP here are some safer (privately owned!) shops :)
Gem's Moss Shop (azaleas for sale which can be bonemealed)
Bdub's Bamboo Shop (bamboo wood is a good eco-friendly alternative to your typical spruce or oak)
The Purr-purr bus (if you're okay with having slightly more exotic trees, from the End)
Hope this helped! <3
⌛️ d0ctorm77 Follow
Why would you pay diamonds for less when you could just pay a few grains of sand for the best quality wood in the shopping district? You people confuse me
🌲 supreme-judge-bd Follow
actually the Purr-purr bus isn't ethical at all!! ive heard they blackmail people into giving them sails!!!
🐟 gemstone Follow
*sales
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SHUDDUP
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:(
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day 131 without a mending book
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day 164 without a mending book
🐍 puppet-master Follow
Grian you know you can get free mending books at the cat cafe right
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it's not the same
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I need to be able to smell the breath of the sea between its sodden pages
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continue along the same path and you'll soon be facing villager unions
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🔥 tongo-tak Follow
Friendly reminder that not everyone wakes up at 2am, so please tag your Pearldle spoilers for at least a few hours!!
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skill issue tbh
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🇸🇪 death2diorite85 Follow
hallo how flirt with pretty girl time sensitive question
🌺 git-gorgeous Follow
sell them something
🔥 tongo-tak Follow
bribe diamonds
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kill them
🇸🇪 death2diorite85 Follow
okay will do!!!!
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wait
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🐍 puppet-master Follow
Happy pride month to lgbtqia+ people of all ages, genders and sexualities, you're all so valid and so loved <3 🏳️🌈🏳️⚧️ ❤🧡💛💚💙💜
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<3
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I'm making a rainbow beacon for pride, come look for it! i'll be with it by my husband @ renthedog's hole all week
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*HOLE
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*HOME
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WAIT I ACCIDENTALLY TAGGED IT
🐾 renthedog Follow
um.
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🌸 joel-beans Follow
etho is just kakashi on maple syrup send post
🌸 joel-beans Follow
almost forgot to add important additional difference! etho is also obsessed with me
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THE GRAVE OF LUST
a/n: this is a very random idea i had of logan not necessarily being able to go at it as he used to. which like yes i love the thought of getting my back snapped by a more energetic logan. this version of him has my heart in ways i'll never be able to explain. it's short but enjoy! divider by the lovely @saradika-graphics.
summary: when his body doesn't work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well.
OR giving old man logan sloppy head that he'll think about in the grave and after.
word count: 2k
pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, weary old man logan, domestic vibes, oral (m receiving), spit kink, cumplay, dirty talk, he may be older but he's filthier, unedited + not betad but we live and die by the fucking pen.
He doesn't touch you quickly anymore. His hands don't shove clothes off your curves and grasp your flesh with a growl of impatience. No, he no longer holds the stamina of a younger him who could spend hours between your thighs. His bones are weary, old phantom wounds ache where they shouldn't, and he feels himself step closer to his grave with each day that passes.
His hands move at a steady pace, tugging the fabric of your nightgown up inch by inch. Sleep lingers at the edge of his mind. The knowledge that he'll have to get up early with the sun still hidden from the sky. Yet you'll be here asleep—dreaming of his calloused palms on your soft skin. How he burned himself into your ribs with a kiss.
"C'mere," he mumbled, eyes narrowed and lips parted with a deep withered breath. "Let me touch you."
Denial would be a false tale on your tongue. Depriving yourself of him wasn't an option anymore. When times like this were found few and far between and his touch became a lingering memory in the back of your mind.
You couldn't remember the last time you tasted him. The last time he sunk into your wet heat with a solid groan—the muscles of his back screaming as he held his body above yours.
Age was cruel to a man who used to be so virile. He could recall the hours he took to worship your body—mold you beneath the warmth of his palms. But doing that more often wasn't something he was capable of. He still longed for you. The sounds you made, the way your face twisted in pleasure as you came on his cock, fingers, face. He craved it some nights. He felt it eat him alive.
Tonight was no different.
"How?" you breathed, eyes wide and pleading.
You were so fucking sweet he didn't even have to convince you of this. So ready to let him bring you to that peak of bliss. He could smell the heady scent of your pussy—the way it called to him with shouts of need. And if he was a younger man...he'd have you pinned beneath him. He'd hammer his hips into yours until bruises formed beneath the skin—down into the very muscles of your legs.
His graying hair and weathered face did nothing to stop the lust that poured into your face. Your eyes still drooped, mouth open and chest heaving. And Logan was a fortunate fucking man that you were still here.
So unlike his younger self, he let you take the lead.
"Can I touch you?" you asked so nicely. He groaned at the sound of it, jutting his chin down in a nod as you grasped the button of his jeans.
Any other night you'd let him take you. Give into his languid touches until you came wherever he wanted you to come. This was a rarity the longer you spent bound together by the strings of fate.
Logan fucking loved it. He ached for it on days spent away from you—time he'd never get back. But when he'd find his way home and curl his body around yours, he found that sleep was a better option. You'd heartily agree. If it wasn't for the pounding ache between your thighs each time you caught his eye. Each chance you got to see the thick arms and sun kissed skin that lay beneath his white button downs.
"Been dreamin' about this." His voice echoed with a rasp you'd grown to love. One that screamed exhaustion, yet licked a line of heat up your spine. "Such pretty fuckin' lips."
His thumb dug into the curve of your bottom lip, pulling at it until your mouth popped open. Allowing his finger to press against your tongue—saliva building at the thought of getting him in your mouth. Of him using your throat to get himself off.
You didn't even care if you finished. You just wanted to feel him.
"You're my good girl right?" A moan spilled past your spread lips, eyes fluttering when his pants slipped down and cock came free. "Yeah you are."
"Logan," you sighed. He dragged your spit across your cheek; thumb and forefinger gripped your chin to tilt your head close enough to kiss him. Only to hold you there.
"Keep 'em open baby."
The feel of his length throbbing so close to your chest—precum dotting the tip—drove you mad. You wanted him closer. Wanted to feel the bruising ache at the back of your throat as he pushed too far. Your fingers wrapped around him gently, causing him to hiss at your cold touch. The reminder to take it slow, savor him, rang in your ears. Yet the way he looked at you with a feral hunger you felt in your heart shoved those thoughts to the side.
Within his life there's only been a handful of moments he wished he could go back to. Nearly all of them were with you on nights such as this. When the moon hung low in the sky and dawn felt eons away. If he was lucky he wouldn't have to wake up tomorrow, he'd get to wake up naked by your side and bury himself in your pretty cunt.
Logan was rarely lucky.
His spit landed on your tongue, splattering against the corner of your mouth. He led your mouth down with a firm grip until you hovered directly over his cock. The dark red at the tip made you clench around nothing—the ache spreading to the base of your stomach. Screaming for you to take it. Put your mouth on him and make him finish down your throat.
"There we go," he murmured, watching his spit and yours fall from your mouth—landing directly on his twitching cock. "Pretty ain't it."
"Yeah," you gasped, nails digging into the v of his hips. "Can I taste you? Please."
The deep echo of his laugh shot through your body like a bullet. You could feel it burrow deep within, spreading across each nerve ending and vein. Being so close to what you wanted felt like torture, but with Logan you knew it would be worth it in the end. He never left you wanting.
"'Course honey." His hand cupped the back of your neck, leading you with a soft touch. "It's yours."
Yours. Yours. Yours.
With a moan, you wrapped your lips around the head of him—tongue sliding through the slit. A ragged groan tore from his chest, his eyes boring a hole into the side of your face. The knowledge that he was so far gone for you left a pleasant thrill of warmth to grow in your stomach. This strong, capable man would bend at his knees simply to see you smile.
He was your devotee and you'd become his goddess.
"Fuckin' perfect." His words were a spit of need, fingers digging down into your skin with each flick of your tongue.
You merely held him there. In your mouth with spit coating the hand wrapped around the base of him. His taste flooded your mouth, each drop a nectar you would never have enough of. And he let you have your fill. He lay still on the bed, his breaths coupled with moans as you took your time.
Slipping him a bit deeper, you felt his thighs shift beneath you—a shuddered sigh echoing the small bedroom. You'd barely begun and yet he felt the high of dizziness begin to pull at his mind. Effectively killing whatever sleep called out to him.
"Take a little more for me." He sounded gone. Your lips spread into a smile, bobbing your head and swallowing a bit more with each small thrust. "Fuck yeah. Just like that."
He pushed at the back of your throat, your jaw strained under the width of him. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And he caught them with his thumb, mixing the salt with what spit of his still remained along your skin. Tilting your head slightly, you felt him slip down your throat—your nose finding the graying curls at his base.
The loud growl that ripped through his body was all the reward you needed. He was on the fucking edge. Barely hanging on by the skin of his teeth. And he knew you could tell. His thighs jolted—stomach tensing—and when your hand slipped down to tug at his balls, thumb finding the spot between, he lost it.
Snarling your name, he thrust his hips up into your mouth and felt you choke on him. Your throat constricted perfectly with each cant of his hips down into you. He gave you the opportunity to push him off—get some air down your lungs. You let him keep going—eyes fixed on the way his face screwed up in pleasure. His teeth bared and throat extended.
Another push of your thumb sent him flying over the edge with a shout. The salty tang of him filled your mouth, spilling down your throat with rope after rope of cum. And you swallowed it all despite the searing burn that spread along your esophagus. You took every fucking drop of him and allowed some to remain on your tongue.
To prove that you could take whatever he wanted to give.
"I fuckin' love you," he breathed, cupping your jaw and grinning when you stuck out your tongue—a pool of his spend dripping down your chin.
His fingers scooped it out of your mouth before you could swallow. "Up." He slapped your ass, moving you up and into his lap. "Your turn."
"I’m okay."
The glare he gave you burned its way to your lungs. "Good girls get rewarded." His fingers dipped down beneath your nightgown—pleased to find you bare—and spread his cum along the lips of your pussy. "Don't you want your reward bub?"
"Yes," you whimpered, gripping at his hair. "I do."
"Then take it."
Refusing was no longer an option when the bliss you'd been searching for finally flared to life in your body. His fingers plunged into you, curling and seeking the spot he always found with ease. And with a sharp gasp—your hand yanking at his hair—he knew he'd found it. He smiled at the sight of you. Head back and eyes shut as you fucked yourself on his hand.
"Tell me," he said. Gripping your chin, his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues. He could taste himself in your mouth. His chest rumbled with a soft sigh.
"I love you." The base of his hand ground into your clit, fingers pounding up quicker—faster. And your words pitched high with each thrust.
"I know you do." He kissed your throat, the heat of your body rubbing against his made his cock twitch in interest again. "Love you too baby."
"Fuck!" The coil in your stomach began to unravel rapidly, your body shattering into pieces you'd never find again. And he clutched you tightly to his chest. He watched in rapture at the sight of you shaking, hips bucking against his hand in quick thrusts. "Logan."
Pride bloomed in his chest. "You're perfect."
You collapsed onto his bare chest, spent and exhausted. The final tendrils of pleasure began to ebb out of your body, suddenly replaced by the comfort of him there. You pressed your lips to the center of his chest, teeth dragging along the scarred skin. And he basked in your attention—his hand trailing down your spine to knead the flesh of your ass.
"We should do that more often," you teased, lips finding his in a soft kiss.
He huffed, his eyes falling shut. "I'm too old for that."
"Believe it or not, but you're sexier older."
"Yeah?" He stirred against your stomach. "You like me old and gray?"
"Absolutely."
He smirked, pushing you up his body with slow movements. "Prove it."
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Do you think MOB's ex would ever come looking for her one day?
mail-order bride
simon opens the door for you, taking your hand as you get out of his truck. you brush off the front of your jeans, smiling as you step around him and onto the sidewalk.
"said an hour or so?" simon mutters, shutting the door behind you. you nod, looking around at the shops.
"yeah, i just need some things, but i also wanna look around. maybe get some books or something...i don't know."
simon shrugs, flipping his hood up over his head. he bends to give you a kiss over the mask, and you thumb at his jaw gently.
"i'll pick ya up 'ere in an hour then," simon murmurs. "call me if ya need somethin', love. and if yer not back 'ere in an hour and ya haven't texted me, i'll come lookin' for ya."
you giggle, "i know, simon. i'll see you."
he smiles under the mask, you can tell by the way it moves and the way his eyes crinkle a little. you lean up and give him another kiss over the mask before making your way down the main road, stepping into a boutique to look for some new clothes. you wave at simon as he passes by, and he salutes you before driving off.
you love spending time in town. you love visiting the shops, getting pastries, having some tea by the bookstore and buying little trinkets from the antique shop. simon likes the cheese shop. they sell some of his favorite french cheese, and they have wonderful wines that they pair with it that you love drinking together for dinner. you pick up a bottle along with some cheeses and bread, and just as you leave the shop, you bump right into a solid back, dropping one of your bags and nearly tripping into the road.
"oh, fucking hell!"
you gasp, clutching the rest of your bags to yourself. the man turns around, glaring at you, and you feel sick.
what the fuck is he doing here?
"oh well...isn't this a wonderful surprise?" he snorts. you pick up your fallen bag and straighten up, stepping back to create distance between you.
"hi..." you clear your throat. "i...i'm meeting someone, i have to go--"
"oh, where are you going?"
he blocks you from stepping around him. you meet his eyes, taking a deep breath. he always liked being able to control every aspect of you, from where you stood to what you did that day. your skittishness...your apprehensiveness...it's ingrained in you from your time with him. it's hard to explain being afraid of someone who never even really touched you, but you left before you thought it could get that far.
"that's really none of your business," you say softly. "excuse me."
he sidesteps again when you do, and this time you frown.
"you..." you glare at him. "...need to get out of my way."
he grins, a humorless laugh coming out of him. you don't like the way he's standing there, and you don't like how calm he is.
"oh, i didn't realize little kitty had grown some claws."
maybe you have. you've started to shed your scared exterior, mostly because there is someone behind you now, someone bound to you, supportive enough to make you more confident, braver, stronger. you stand a little taller, clenching your jaw, and you close the distance, stepping closer, and you cant your chin up so you can look at him hard.
"i don't know what you're doing here," you say lowly, "but you need to get the fuck out of my way, or you're going to have some other problems that you certainly can't handle."
he raises a hand, about to touch the lapel of your jacket. you grip his wrist, holding him there, and you tilt your head to the side.
"and if you touch me, you'll be sorry for it. now step aside, asshole, or i will make it a very hard day for you."
"c'mon," he chuckles. "let's go get a drink. there's a pub just down that way--"
"what part of no, and get out of my way, makes you think i wanna have a drink with you?" you scoff. "are you serious? are you that stupid that you think--"
"you listen here," he snaps, pointing his finger, getting in your face. "it's not my fault that you're--"
you step backwards when a big hand comes around you, snatching his wrist and yanking his finger out of your face. you look to your side to see simon standing there, shuffling in front of you, putting himself between you.
"now, i don't much care for interrupting, but you've got y'r fuckin' finger in my wife's face, and i'd like to know why."
you take a glance at your watch, and you realize it's past the time simon said he would pick you up. you sigh, reaching up and sliding your hand up simon's arm, and he lets go.
"it's fine," you tell him. "he was just on his way out."
he's shaking. stumbling backwards, clutching his wrist, glancing between you two. simon holds his hand out finally, beckoning him.
"your wallet."
"w-what?"
"give me y'r bloody wallet," simon snaps.
"simon--" you try, but he clicks his tongue as he snatches the wallet from him, shuffling an ID card out before reading his name out loud, and his address. simon chuckles darkly, cracking his neck before tossing the wallet at his chest.
"i know y'r name," simon murmurs. "and i know where ya put y'r head at night. where ya piss. where ya change y'r clothes. if i ever see ya talk to my wife again...if i even see ya walk down the same fuckin' road as 'er, i'll come and visit you. and we'll 'ave a chat."
"r-right, i--" he stuffs his wallet into his pocket before leaving, hurrying down the road. he doesn't even look back, doesn't look behind him. when simon turns around, you can tell just by looking into his eyes that he's angry.
he reaches over and takes the shopping bags from you, holding them in his sweaty fists as he nods his head towards his truck down the road.
"let's go," he snaps, and you hurry to follow him, reaching for his bicep. you hold onto it gently, stopping him, tugging him towards you as you block him by stepping in front of him.
"simon," you look up at him. "hey--"
"who was tha'?" he asks.
"a terrible nobody," you say softly. "one that i would rather forget."
"i--"
"thank you," you interrupt him gently. "for standing up for me. thank you...thank you for always believing me. for supporting me. for always showing up when it matters, thank you..."
simon bends, leaning his forehead against yours, and he breathes in shakily.
"your pain is mine," simon mutters. "your...discomfort is my discomfort, your joy is my joy."
you both close your eyes, smiling, and he hums when he feels another kiss, soft, the lightest press against his mouth that he feels ten times stronger than normal.
"i love you, simon," you whisper. you hear the bags drop onto the floor, and then two big hands cup your face, leaning it back, and he stares down at you almost painfully. it feels like you aren't real. he feels like it must be a dream, like this can't be his reality.
"i love you more, baby."
but when simon opens his eyes, you're still there.
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