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I kind of have this condition where my mouth just spews word vomit. It’s chronic.
I don’t like beating around the bush. What did the bush ever do to be knocked around like that, anyway? Nothing, that’s what.
He smells super yummy, and he played with my hair. Plus, he kisses like a god. Like I’m going to fight this? Puhlease.
I think my heart just crawled out of my chest to go cuddle with him.
These fae change loyalty like a stripper changes lingerie. Different for every audience but still just as put-on.
I pat him on his cheek. “That’s okay. You’re pretty. You don’t have to be smart.”
I’m not a goldfish. I do have an attention span.”
When in doubt, just stick with the guy with the strength power to protect you from rogue penises. I should put that on a T-shirt.

