I'm reading Bluebeard's Castle by Anna Biller, and I love how Gavin embodies literally all of my kinks, but I still want to throw up on his shoes. Like I could absolutely be reading the same book but about Darry or Aizawa, and I'd be kicking my feet and squealing like a little school girl, but, when it's just some other fictional dude, it squicks me out.
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