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$LAYYYTER


â
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occasionally subtle

#extradirty
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@nevernot-broken

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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30+ year old women are the backbone of this website
reblog if you're literally 30+
Rules of DIY:
if it's a skill, there's rules you can learn
if it's an art, rules are not your concern
make it fucked up or you won't make it
if it's already broken, you can't break it
anything can be fixed with gorilla glue
except for pleather, and also you
7. If at first you don't succeed, switch to power tools
The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.
Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.
So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.
Bears. Theyâre everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.
oh shit
As the OP of this post, Iâm going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.
Y'all know what to do Tumblr.
Am I a hyper-independent, feminist woman who pays all her own bills, has a full time job, raised 2 kids, manages my mental health and is perfectly capable of looking after her own life? Yes.
Did I also get the kitchen scrubbed and clean by playing a sound track of a man with a deep voice telling me I was a good girl and I would get a reward later? Also yes.
Did I also use

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Everything I Couldn't Say - Masterpost
Everything I Couldn't Say
A slow-burn, trauma-informed love story about two young people learning how to stay.
đ¸ small-town melancholy
đ¸ protective but restrained male lead
đ¸ love that doesnât fix you â it stays while you heal
---
hi! iâm kaya. đ¸
i write about the kind of softness that survives ruin.
sometimes itâs messy. sometimes it hurts. but itâs always real.
i wrote the first version of my book when i was nineteen - all instinct, too much heart, and not enough understanding of why people break the way they do. now iâm rewriting it the way it was always meant to be told: slower, deeper, more honest.
---
What This Story Is
This isnât a love story.
Itâs survival.
Itâs about two people who meet when everything is already falling apart â and what it means to choose each other anyway.
Not to be saved.
Not to be fixed.
Just⌠not to be alone.
---
This Story Might Be For You IfâŚ
you miss the emotional fiction of the late 2000s / early 2010s Tumblr era
you love slow-burn, quiet devotion over grand gestures
youâre drawn to stories about trauma written gently, without spectacle
you believe love doesnât fix you â it stays while you heal
you like boys who are soft in private and disciplined in public
you like girls who lie because the truth feels more dangerous
welcome. stay awhile. đЎ
---
here youâll find chapters, character thoughts, playlists, aesthetics, and the messy, tender universe iâve been building for years. Find everything down below and under the tag #eics
---
Everything I Couldn't Say:
Norah Bishop is the girl who came back different - polished, popular, and carrying a secret that won't stop bleeding. She's mastered the art of pretending: perfect grades, perfect boyfriend, perfect smile. Anything to outrun the truth.
Daniel Cohen has been quiet his whole life. Not because he has nothing to say, but because no one ever listened. Not when it mattered. He's not looking to be saved - just to make it through without falling apart.
They're not supposed to matter to each other.
But they do.
In glances across classrooms. In conversations at 2 a.m. In the tiny moments no one else sees.
But some pasts don't stay buried.
Some pain doesn't play fair.
And love - no matter how much it aches to stay - can't always fix what was never safe to begin with.
But love doesn't save you. It stays with you.
---
Content / Trigger Warnings:
This story contains themes of
childhood abuse (referenced, not graphic)
trauma and PTSD
medical emergencies and coma
blood / injury
grief, loss, and survivorâs guilt
emotional distress and dissociation
Please take care while reading đ¤
---
Chapters đ
Upload Status: 20 out of total 55 chapters
1. The Crack Beneath the Surface
2. The Silence That Follows
3. Shaking Hands with Ghosts
4. Almost Ordinary
5. Edges of Something New
6. What the Water Knows
7. Carrying Ghosts
8. Silent Wreckage
9. The Weight of Almost
10. Something Stupid Something Good
11. Almost Morning
12. What We Leave Behind
13. Pieces of a Night
14. The Art of Drowning
15. Tangled & Tired
16. Catch Me If You Can
17. Heavy with What We Didn't Say
18. Wrong Time, Wrong Place
19. Eight Years and an Exit
20. Someone Stayed
----------------------------------
Character Introduction đ
1. Norah Bishop
2. Daniel Cohen
----------------------------------
Stuff on Pinterest đ
moodboard: ghosts that look like love
everything I couldn't say - bookcast
edits and aesthetic
norah bishop
daniel cohen
ao3 turns 16 today.
reblog if youâre older than archive of our own
I have 2 kids older than AO3...
Today I had privilege over a white woman.
Just- not for the reasons you may think.
There was a service dog team boarding the plane ahead of us. Normally I just give the usual ~6-10ft of space so we aren't crowding two dogs right next to each other when they need to work- but I noticed something. Her dog was fairly young, and while he was behaving he kept stopping to look behind so he could see us. She, however, didn't look around at all, just asked him what the problem was and to move forward. To which he complied, but then would stop and look at us again after a couple steps.
I called out that I was behind her with a service dog of my own, and that her dog was behaving but definitely distracted by mine, so if she would like I could give them more space. Initially she tried to say no, that wasn't necessary- but then her dog stopped to turn around again. She said that he was new, and that she hadn't expected him to be so unnerved by another dog.
We were the first two to board with a long line of people behind us. I told her no worries, take the time she needs, the plane won't leave without us and we're boarding with plenty of time to spare. That I noticed she didn't look around when her dog turned and recognized the style of harness and assumed she had a vision related disability and wanted to let her know what he was struggling with so she could adjust. That I would keep my distance so he could properly guide her onto the plane. I asked the people behind me to give us a moment so she could board safely. Everyone agreed to it- surprising at 5am and especially because the family immediately behind me had young children I could hear them teaching about what service dogs are- and equally called encouragements for her to go at her own pace.
She said as she walked with more confidence now that her dog was focused again, that she actually had no vision whatsoever and had just been placed with this dog to assist her via an organization.
She was able to board without further interruptions and then I let her know when I walked by her so she could make sure she understood her dog's reaction to mine. She thanked me for that, and for the assistance with boarding.
I waited until she was off the plane to gather my dog and my things.
But I wanted to talk about privilege- you see, while we both have a disability, mine affects me overall far less. It's a 100% fact that with testosterone, I barely have need for a service dog at all, and only bring one as a "just in case", similar to the cane I keep in my car that I haven't touched in a year. This woman is completely blind- her disability affects her in a much more immediate and drastic way.
As a more seasoned handler and team, I have more confidence to demand accessibility considerations. As a man, I'm more readily listened to. As someone with a large, dark colored dog- I even have the mythical "scary dog privilege" where her cute and friendly waggy lab might not. So when I say, give this lady space for her dog to do his job, as someone with a clearly marked, well behaved dog who can see what the problem is, those behind me stopped dead in their tracks and listened.
This is a social privilege in action. As a confident, cis-male-presenting, sighted person with a well behaved dog, this nervous blind woman struggling with her dog needed someone in her corner to advocate for her while she figured out what she needed to do to get her dog back on track.
My privilege over her in this moment is not an example of oppression. It could have been- had I not realized the issue and taken action to help, had I pushed past her, had I started heckling her about her dog's behavior or her own handling. But it is something that I don't need to consider in my everyday life- after all, I'm not the one totally reliant on a dog to tell me if my surroundings are safe, and my need for a dog is very small these days besides.
And- it's changeable.
During my bus trip with Creed back when I was more reliant on him, and he was still alive, I had several bus passengers pitch a fit about having to tolerate a dog on the bus. Despite his good behavior and his clearly marked vest, it was decided by several seats around me that his presence was a problem. Until an old white man in a wheelchair was put on the same bus, and yelled at them for being so intolerant.
I once caught an old white man as he stepped into the mall I was also entering to shop, and fell back against me while having a seizure. I stayed with him until paramedics arrived. I have no idea who he was. An older white woman interrupted AKC staff at a show they were harassing me about my service dog gear- she was a friend of a friend, though a stranger to me at that time. She died a few months later from complications of a lifelong addiction.
And I think this sort of situation is one that this website does not often consider. Between two under-privileged people, social privilege can change on a whim depending on context and the exact intersections at play for *all* involved.
But instead of doing a thought experiment based on theory, tell me. How do you act when you experience this situation in person? Do you have it in you to step in for someone that needs help, regardless of what demographics you or they represent?
Some PTerry quotes that feel especially salient at the moment:
"He asked you to shoot at people who werenât shooting back,â growled Vimes, striding forward, âThat makes him insane, wouldnât you say?â
âThey are throwing stones, Sarge,â said Colon.
âSo? Stay out of range. Theyâll get tired before we do."
- Night Watch
Odd thing, ain't it... you meet people one at a time, they seem decent, they got brains that work, and then they get together and you hear the voice of the people. And it snarls.
- Jingo
It always embarrassed Samuel Vimes when civilians tried to speak to him in what they thought was âpoliceman.â If it came to that, he hated thinking of them as civilians. What was a policeman, if not a civilian with a uniform and a badge? But they tended to use the term these days as a way of describing people who were not policemen. It was a dangerous habit: once policemen stopped being civilians the only other thing they could be was soldiers.
- Snuff
The poor devils. They thought a king would make them free.
- Feet of Clay
Beating people up in little roomsâŚhe knew where that led. And if you did it for a good reason, youâd do it for a bad one. You couldnât say âweâre the good guysâ and do bad-guy things. Sometimes the watching watchman inside every good copperâs head could use an extra pair of eyes.
- Thud!

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Man, when I was like 16 I got so sick of being made fun of for being the fat kid that I took an axe down inna woods, chopped down a tree, and started doing log-lifts all the time. I got strong as fuck, but I didnât lose no weight. I actually got bigger.
Same thing happened when I got into fighting. I got even stronger, and I got *fast*, man, and nimble, like a cat. Still chubby.
Body-building culture is a bunch of crap, my dude. Functional muscle is not necessarily toned or lean. You can be swole as hell and still be heavy. And thatâs cool.
Embrace your inner barbarian. And when fatphobic little gym twinks try to body shame you, you should DESTROY THEM with your MIGHTY AXE
Can comfirm, i am Quite Fat ⢠but i still hit my punching bag hard enough last week make it touch the ceiling and broke a finger in the process
You know, I train with (martial arts) a bunch of dudes, and a few bodybuilders have showed up over the years.Â
And every damn one of those huge shredded motherfuckers has the endurance of a fucking newborn puppy. Fifteen minutes into warmups and theyâre panting for air like like theyâre about to die. Iâve sparred them and every one of them telegraphs their moves about two weeks in advance, and are slower than my dead grandpa because their huge useless muscles get in the damn way.Â
Now. I also work with a couple of guys who are not weightlifters. They do, however, do very physical jobs and are Big Dudes. Picture this sort of build.Â
No abs to speak of, a bit of a tummy, and those motherfuckers can pick up one of the weightlifters and throw them.Â
And theyâre fast. Like, unfair fast.Â
Bodybuilding culture is bullshit. Embrace your status as a giant barbarian and if anyone gives you crap throw them off a mountain.Â
i love and support all strong, fat people
This time, I DO mean to post it.
youâre not weak if you stay. youâre not a quitter if you go.
when harassment happens at work, people talk like itâs a clean decision stay and fight, or leave and heal. but itâs never that simple.
maybe you love the work. maybe you need the income. maybe itâs your dream job. maybe itâs just a job.
whatever your reasons - theyâre yours. and whatever you decide, you deserve support.
you donât have to prove how bad it was to justify leaving. you donât have to be a martyr to justify staying.
itâs okay to weigh your career, your safety, your future, your peace. itâs okay to change your mind.
youâre allowed to protect yourself. however that looks.
Activists in Washington D.C. display shoes representing the thousands of children killed in Palestine by Israel with United States funding
(17,400+ children)
Hands Off Protest Boston, April 5th, 2025
The entire country really showed up and showed out for the 50501 Hands Off movement! Incredible to see!

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Hands Off Protest Salt Lake City, UT - Apr 5, 2025
Your regular reminder that trickle-down economics is a cruel joke designed by the wealthy.