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#Cheapest Countries in the World

audliminal · 8 months

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My biggest tip for world building is just to look at how different regions travel tbh. What kind of roads do they have/what kind of transport do they use? What do they do when faced with difficult terrain (or mountain, river, swamp)? How do the encouraged methods of travel affect the culture of the region and how might the encouraged methods of travel have been affected by cultural values? Why do they travel the way they do?

Then take everything you've learned and ask yourself what methods of travel your different regions would be using. What would make them choose those forms of travel? How might their culture have been gradually affected by the common travel methods?

#fr tho travel defines a culture so so much #do they use boats do they walk do they ride horses or other animals do they drive cars #hell. even do they use planes airships or spaceships #its such a fucking central decision about your world and i feel like it's so easy to neglect #and its important on both the micro and macro level #do people walk to places in town? how safe is it to do that?#what about travelling to the other side of the country? whats the easiest method? whatd the cheapest method? what do rich ppl prefer to do?

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swamyworld · 4 days

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₹2 liter petrol in this country... What is the price in Pakistan and China compared to India?

New Delhi: India is the third largest oil consuming and importing country in the world. It imports 85 percent of its oil needs. Petrol prices in India are higher than in Pakistan and China. Even in Bangladesh, petrol is sold cheaper than in India. However, in neighboring countries Nepal and Sri Lanka, the price of one liter petrol is higher than in India. You will be surprised to know the petrol…

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#cheapest petrol in world #China #China petrol price #compared #country #india #liter #news about petrol price #Pakistan #Pakistan petrol price #petrol #Petrol price #price #Where is the cheapest petrol in the world

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neoseotipsblogs · 3 months

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Best Place to Live When You Retire (Top 5 Destination )

A major turning point in life is retiring, which signifies a change in focus to leisure, discovery, and pursuing own interests. Choosing where to live when you're old is a choice that should be carefully considered. We'll explore the best places to retire in this extensive guide, looking at things like cost, weather, medical care, and leisure options to help you make an informed decision.

#Which Is The Best Place To Live After Retirement?#Where Is The Best Place To Move When Retiring?#What Is The Cheapest And Safest Country To Retire In?#Best Place To Live When You Retire (Top 5 Destination )#Best Place To Live #Best Place To Live After Retirement In The World

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rnnonline · 1 year

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Top 10 Cheapest Countries to Study in the World

Finding the cheapest countries to study can be a difficult process, however, with careful planning and financial knowledge, studying abroad can not only be more affordable than you ever thought possible, but it can also be less expensive than enrolling in a semester or year of university at home. You might potentially save thousands of dollars by choosing a cheap study abroad program instead of…

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#cheapest countries #countries to study in the world

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tieronecrush · 5 months

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secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage.

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.”

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl.

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss.

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

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medicoabroad · 1 year

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Abroad Services of Medico Abroad Consultants – 2021 Batch to Belarus

The students group of 2020 Batch admitted to MD (General Medicine) / MBBS@ Gomel State Medical University, Belarus was accompanied by Mr. V.Rajaram, Managing Partner of Medico Abroad Consultants, Hyderabad, India and proper care and support are provided till the acclimatization of students at Gomel. The hallmark of Medico Abroad Consultants is to assume the parental role and fulfill the services…

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touringmadeeasy · 2 years

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Top Cheapest Countries to Visit in the World

Everybody loves traveling in the world. But some people do not have enough money to travel. Today I will talk about some cheapest countries where you can travel with very little money. But, still enjoy more than other expensive countries. There are many countries in the world, which are very beautiful but still cheap.

1. Vietnam, $30/day

2. Laos, $30/day

If you want to know more details then visit this article: Top Cheapest Countries to Visit in the World

#Top Cheapest Countries to Visit in the World #cheapest countries to visit #traveling #travel #vacation #world travel #vietnam travel #laos travel #colombia travel #nepal travel

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expresscitizenship · 2 years

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don-lichterman · 2 years

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Where is World’s Best Place to Retire on a $2,000-a-month budget or less? Retire Early Cheap

You often dream of quitting your job, retiring early and moving to a paradise where you can live comfortably with a low cost of living. Do you want to live a healthier and happier life, spend a lot less money and get a whole lot more out of your savings? In this video, we will reveal the world’s best country to retire in 2021 on a low budget and the reasons why it should be on your list to…

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reasonsforhope · 10 months

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Is it true some parts will be under water in 2025? I'm kinda of worried cause someone told me about it bc it was on the news

Eh, not really. Like, technically, but that's a very dramatic way to put it.

What that person told you about was probably this prediction, which says that some roads on some of the Florida Keys might be underwater by 2025.

Does that suck? Yes. But it's also pretty limited in scope.

(And by the way, that's probably not "underwater all the time." There will probably be a number of years of "the roads will be underwater at high tide specifically." I can't currently find a source on this, but that's how tides work, and the Florida Keys article does specifically mention them as a main problem.)

The areas in danger first are pretty universally small, very low islands. Actually, a dozen or so small islands have already gone underwater in the Pacific Ocean, but very importantly, none of those islands were inhabited.

They were mostly small reef islands (that is, the entire island is exposed coral reef detritus) and other uninhabited shoals. Mostly, they were so small scientists had to check old satellite images to even figure out that they disappeared. Literally, we're talking about chunks of land that are just 100 square meters/300 square feet. Again, not great, but still very limited in scope.

As this Live Science article thankfully explains, it's pretty unlikely that any countries at all will disappear before 2100.

Also, just because land is below sea level doesn't mean it will be underwater, and there are very real steps we can take to defend a lot of endangered cities/islands.

For example:

Much of the Netherlands is already below sea level, but the country isn't disappearing, because the Dutch have put a lot of work into building and maintaining coastal defenses.

Multiple surveys (including the one that found the missing islands in Micronesia) also found that not all low-lying islands are vulnerable to erosion and flooding. This is because many islands are protected by mangrove forests, lagoons, or both

Mangrove reforestation in particular is genuinely a super effective anti-flooding strategy that is being deployed pretty widely, and is expected to increase a lot in the coming years. Mangroves are effective at not only preventing short-term flooding, but also mitigating sea-level increases (in part by preventing erosion)

Some islands, esp Pacific Islands, have actually grown during the past couple decades, not shrunk. It really depends on what the island is made up of. Not all land is automatically doomed

You can read more about how sinking countries are fighting back here, and the lessons we can learn from them:

-via Time, June 13, 2019

And finally, and this is good news for reasons I'll explain in a second:

Some of the largest and wealthiest cities in the world are at the top of the danger list. (Note: the predictions at that link are based on some fairly severe warming predictions. They do NOT necessarily reflect what's going to happen or when.)

The cities that are going to be in danger the soonest (still away btw) include New York, London, San Francisco, Tokyo, and Dubai. Lots of very rich people in those cities! Who would really like to not have to move (any of their ten different homes lol)

So, flooding aside, we're going to (by necessity) get a lot better at figuring out the quickest, cheapest, most scalable, and most effective types of coastal defenses real fast.

Are rich countries going to be way more able to get strong coastal defense systems up quickly? Yes. Does that suck? Sure fucking does!! But these solutions don't all require a lot of money or tech to implement, even at a large scale, especially when it's local communities driving the effort.

And, importantly, when rich countries pour a ton of money into figuring this out, that will hugely expand our understanding of what techniques work best, why, and how best to deploy them in different situations. Unlike physical structures, that's valuable knowledge that can be shared very, very widely.

And any technology that comes out of this is going to work like solar panels and other green energy: as more people use it, it will get cheaper and cheaper. Probably really quickly.

So, all told, no one's going to be swallowed up in the next few years. We have time to work on this and a lot of people are already doing so.

Mostly, experts predict that the first wave of large-scale issues will be happening around 2050.

Three decades doesn't sound like enough time, in the face of something like this. But you know what? Responses to climate change are speeding up exponentially, and different types of responses are multiplying and magnifying each other.

We went from inventing flight to landing on the moon in just 66 years.

I wouldn't count us out of the climate change fight yet.

(...I wouldn't count on retiring to Florida either, though)

#Anonymous #sea level rise #ocean #micronesia #pacific islander #mangrove #flood #flood mitigation #ask #me #hope #it does suck but I also really do think there is hope #this post was supposed to be like 2-3 paragraphs how did it turn into an entire essay #I have too many words disease #too much nuance #hope yall appreciate the extra context lol

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 8 months

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gluttonous craving

part two of three | series masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: referenced abuse and alcohol, brief sexual harassment, murder, restraints, blood, knives and stabbing, violence, smut; dom!emily, dark vibes, handcuffs, blood kink, knife kink, public sex, sex at a crime scene, degradation, gun kink, arousal brought on by violence??, choking, fingering, oral

wc: 3.1k

You’re always prepared, organised, detail-oriented. That’s what makes you so good at your job. If there’s one thing you’ve learned working within the Behavioural Analysis Unit, it’s that traits like these, no matter how good, can be used for evil. Smarts can work to your advantage and yours alone if you so choose.

Being observant enough to recognise potential victims within the area is useful, especially in your case. Earlier in the day during even more interviews, you’d spotted someone, a nightly visitor of Owen’s bar just a few blocks from the police station. A forty-something-year-old male with an equally vile past as those who came before him.

You slowed your run to what seemed, to an outsider, to be a tired-out walk, lingering for just as long as you’d predicted until stumbling feet scuffed against the loose debris of the ground outside the bar. His eyes caught your own before you continued onwards, he took that as an invitation to follow you.

It was almost laughable how predictable they all were, even without your astute skill for observation it’d be hard not to follow their routines. You knew what time he got to that bar, you knew how long ago he’d ordered the cheapest draft beer and taken a sip, and you knew how long he’d stewed in the back corner of the establishment before coming outside for a cigarette. It was like clockwork, the metallic flick of his lighter as it burnt the tobacco, the rough stepping of his feet when he caught your eye.

All it took was an eye for detail. Of course, FBI-issued access to the locals of the area and their backgrounds was a huge help but you can’t help but feel a little smug at your so far faultless execution. You almost smile to yourself at the thought, slowing your pace to lean your back against the thick trunk of a tree, leaning your bag beside you before undoing the zipper to pull gloves onto your hands.

You pondered back on the past couple of days as you waited.

You knew it wouldn’t be difficult to find another to fit the victimology, the world isn’t starved of abusive parents after all. And in a town as small as this, narrowing down the pool wasn’t much of a feat. He almost fell into your lap, just sitting there waiting for you to pounce; father to a son, a history of drinking, and an all too eager fist to match.

Once the team had determined his son to be clear of guilt - across the country for a fresh start - you figured he was apt bait. You’d flicked through files printed with his information, reports of domestic abuse, prior arrests for assault, a son who left home at sixteen. He fit the age range of victims so far and it just so happened that the barkeep knew him by name. It wasn’t hard to pull the rest of your plan together. You’re not a beginner anymore.

You feigned obliviousness at the sound of twigs crunching beneath a worn-out leather boot and acted as though you were worn out and breathy from running, unaware of the freshly finished cigarette butt being flicked to the ground as he approached.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he slurred, stepping closer to you, so much so that you could smell the sourness of his breath. “What? You playin’ hard to get?” he added with a huff of a laugh, an obvious agitation at the way you looked at him blankly.

Unluckily for him, he hadn’t noticed the rock balanced in your hand, you wrapped your gloved fingers around it tighter as he approached. You weren’t going to let his hand come into contact with your body so you beat him to it, succeeding in the dull thump of his skull beneath the force before his body crumpled to the ground beneath you.

You stepped over where he lay to toss the bloodied rock into the nearby river, watching as its current carried it away.

His wrists were soon bound together by the rope you’d stored in your bag, knotted tightly and with precision, a neatness matching those you’d studied with your teammates. All of your knowledge let you know that he’d only be out for a few minutes so you watched him take his shallow breaths just waiting for his eyes to blink open.

The sight of the glint of moonlight against the shining blade of a knife made your heart beat rapidly in your chest. It was the same type of weapon you’d used multiple times before, having acquired more than enough duplicates without a trace specifically for your current project. You’d planned it all out methodically. A means of destroying evidence, measures put in place to leave no trace of yourself behind, items procured with zero paper trail as though you were an expert in getting away with murder. The BAU has taught you quite a bit.

You perked up at the sight of his foot twitching, easily hearing the shifting of his breath with the quietness of the secluded wooded area around you. You don’t consider this as fun, moreso something that must be done. It’s that itch you can’t live without scratching and it built itself up within you until you let it take hold, giving in one night after a haphazard plan. You almost consider yourself as something of a vigilante, taking out those that have caused pain. A pain you know well. So, though you wouldn’t label it a hobby, you might have some form of enjoyment in the act.

You tapped the side of his face to bring him to, clearly annoying him with the harshness of the last slap if the grumble he let out was anything to go by.

“Oh my God, hurry up,” you mumbled through your teeth, smiling slightly when his eyes locked onto yours. “There we go,”

You didn’t have all night. This was just a means to an end, nothing to take your time over, just a job to complete. You got to work, unable to savour the moment unlike the others, this time you had a kind of time limit; to be back at the hotel and in your bed for a sound night's sleep, showered clean and free of any remnants of the night.

Almost like a choreographed piece of art, he took each blow you threw his way, copying your previous routines as you feel as though you must. The bone of his cheek cracked beneath the knuckles you punched it with, easily knocking his nose askew with blood already beginning to paint his skin. You ignored his cries of pain with a focus on your goal.

Just like his predecessors, he thought he could somehow get the upper hand against a trained FBI agent but the hands that tried to reach for you despite their restraints were easily caught by yours and the resounding crunch of breaking fingers soon filled the space.

The only attention you paid to his constant garbled words was a muttered sentence through gritted teeth.

“I’m just making sure people like you can’t lay a finger on anyone ever again.”

You’re not too sure why he continued to shout out for help. You were too far away for anyone to hear.

His plagued hands were battered and bruised, littered with cuts from swipes from your knife at each attempt he made to grab you, bones mangled beyond recognition. The rest of him didn’t differ too greatly. Your knife had left its mark, deep cuts and slashes across his torso, bright red blood spilling from deep wounds to his stomach. To his neck. His arms. Anywhere you could reach. This was the overkill that you, along with the rest of the team, had scrawled on a police station-issued whiteboard on day one.

You could feel it within you when you were done, that your mind had quenched its craving, and you stepped back to admire your handiwork as much as you could within the darkened space. The trees hid most of the moonlight but you could still see the glistening crimson, the lifeless corpse of an abusive parent.

You were breathless from the excursion and found it time for you to take your leave, taking your gloves off to free your untarnished hands.

“Y/N?”

You didn’t see her watching these last few moments, she’d made sure to make her way over to you quietly.

“Emily,” you spoke. “Emily, I-”

“Save it,” her voice was sharp as you approached each other. Observant as ever, she took note of the bag beside the tree, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off you. All the blood splattered onto your face, the painting of it against your clothes.

She took the handcuffs attached to her belt and with each step she took forwards, you took one back until your back hit that same tree trunk. With a force that left you dizzy, she clicked them closed around your wrists, eyeing you darkly.

“Please don’t do this, Em. Please. You don’t understand,” you pleaded with her but she only shook her head.

“See, I knew something was off. For a second - just a second - I thought it might’ve been you,” she began, keeping your body trapped. “How you left, how you said you had this craving. But fuck, I didn’t think it’d be true.”

There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. A desirable glint as she took in the blood of another against your skin. She licked her lips at the sight, the perfect way you looked so carnally divine. Your skin blanched with violence.

She used one of your discarded gloves to pick the knife up from the ground, weighing it musingly in her hand whilst you just watched on in a dazed submissiveness. Ready to take whatever she gave just because it’s her.

Your breath hitched in your throat when she used the blood-coated blade to nudge your head upward, letting her hot breath fall past her parted lips when she stroked it along the column of your throat, feeling the way you thickly swallowed. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip at the small whimper you couldn’t completely hide.

“You like that, huh?” she laughed, taking a firm hold of your waist to pull your body closer to hers, pushing the dull edge of the blade against you harshly enough to restrict your breathing.

She let it drop back to the ground in favour of holding onto you, crashing her lips into yours which surprised you. This definitely wasn’t the response you’d expected. You pulled at her shirt as best you could with your hands held back by the metal wrapped around them, feeling her body flush with yours while she claimed your mouth with her tongue pushing against yours.

You could hardly breathe. Lungs deprived of the air that she had stolen with fervent kisses, heated and lustful. Dirty and unbecoming. If you were to look just past her body you’d see that lifeless mess you’d left behind and yet she consumed you anyway.

So lost in the moment, you didn’t notice the one hand that left your waist, only becoming aware of its new intentions when cold and hard metal brushed against your temple.

“How about this, hm?” she breathed, pulling away from you with a bite to your lip that drew blood. She admired the sight. “Does my filthy little slut like this too?”

The barrel of her gun was cold against your warmed cheek, you followed its slow movements with your eyes peering down. Goosebumps littered your flesh when it made its way down, over the thin skin of your throat, your chest, and between your breasts in a way that made your nipples harden at the sensation.

Emily only smirked at the way you shifted. She could see how you desperately wanted to hide how aroused she’d made you, how needy you become at just one look from her. One touch.

With each centimetre she inched the gun downwards she took in the sight of red upon your clothing. She’d never thought something like this would stir her up this way, that she’d take one look and just imagine how divine you must’ve looked in action. She’d seen encounters you’d had with unsubs and shown you just how hot she found it the same night but not once had she envisioned herself wanting to fuck you senseless after finding you panting for air and covered in blood.

But the sight was ethereal to her.

The outfit you wore left little to the imagination, with barely anything between her and what she wanted. She assumed this was a tactical decision on your part - the less clothing there is, the less there is to get stained. It only made her want you more.

You could feel the coolness of the steel weapon when she pushed the long side into your clothed cunt, watching it come into contact with you musingly while her other hand wrapped around your neck. She tutted at the pathetic sight of your hips twitching in an attempt to gain any semblance of friction you could.

“I thought you would,” she rasped. “Just a dirty, needy, little thing.”

Her lips claimed yours again while you subconsciously pushed yourself onto her gun, feeling the reward within your core; the squeezing of your throat was dizzying. She let you catch your breath so she could pinch a pert nipple through your t-shirt, reveling in the small yelp at the roughness.

You whined at the lack of contact when she holstered her gun again.

“So fucking desperate,” she growled, pushing her hand past the waistband of your underwear with her fingertips instantly finding the soaking mess between your folds. “It’s pathetic, really.”

You moaned at the feeling of her touch gliding over your aching clit, stomach twisting with the ravenous way she touched you. She could feel how drenched you were when they pushed into you, curling sublimely while she paid attention to your bud with her thumb.

Each thrust of her digits into you set you alight, knuckles making contact with you from the steady roughness of her pace. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such blissful pleasure, orgasm quickly approaching with your moans only quietened by the thumb she hooked over your teeth. You screw your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around her fingers and your legs began to shake with the feelings washing over you.

“C’mon, baby. Make a mess, like the filthy girl you are.” Emily could feel her own arousal building, so turned on at just the sight and sound of you, especially when she watched you fall apart onto her hand. Your throat harbouring choked groans and your teeth digging into her thumb.

She licked her fingers clean of every drop of you she could find, burying her hand within your hair to push you downwards.

“Get on your knees and be a good girl,” she muttered, smirking slightly at the irony of the situation. You returned her expression, daring a quick look behind her, just for a moment. You struggled with the button of her jeans, grateful for her aid when she moved them downwards just enough to make her drenched cunt available to your wanting tongue.

You soon dug in, obeying her instruction, flicking your tongue over her clit and humming at the sweet taste of her arousal on your lips. The bluntness of her nails scratched at your scalp with each lick of your tongue through her cunt, lapping away with your lips latching around her swollen clit.

“Fuck, just like that, sweetheart,” she groaned out above you, pushing your face into her sex with disregard towards your need for air. She just needed to feel you, rutting her hips to chase her high, dripping down your chin much to your delight.

You loved the taste of her, you adored how you could pull such explicit ramblings from such a woman with your tongue. She felt her orgasm approach with the swiping of your tongue within her and soon came into your mouth with a harsh tug at your hair.

She rode herself through her coursing pleasurable sensation, fucking herself onto your face until she was through with you. It was then that she helped you stand again, tasting herself on your lips when she kissed you.

“So, you’re not arresting me?” You questioned her once you’d both calmed your pounding heartbeats and she unclasped the cuffs from your wrists.

“No,” she laughed. “Call me crazy but when you’re girlfriend looks hot while killing shitty men, why would you do such a thing?”

You laughed at that and leaned into her touch when she pulled a wipe from your bag to clean your face. Emily never imagined being in this position, finding your fellow FBI agent to be the latest unsub wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but knowing why you did it and feeling this way about you, her choice seemed clear. She’d always had a slight darkness within her and she supposes this is how it comes to light.

That’s what shadows do. They hide things in the dark.

It was a while later that you spoke again, you ruminated on the last couple of hours in a comfortable quiet as you walked hand in hand along the route you’d methodically planned. She’d handed you the spare clothes in the woods for you to change and helped you rid yourself of the blood and dirt.

She watched in amazed silence at the pre-collected evidence you had in plastic baggies in the side pocket of the backpack. That suspect you’d all found to be a fine candidate had sipped a cup of water during his interrogation - you’d swiped his DNA. You left traces on the sleeve of the victim’s coat.

Luckily for you, he also donned a hat. Unluckily for him, his hair was now at a soon-to-be crime scene. Emily only adored you more for your almost scary attention to detail.

She sat on the pile of discarded junk in the isolated parking lot you’d pinpointed on a map, watching each rehearsed movement as you piled the contents of your evening into a metal bin, pulling matches and lighter fluid from your bag to watch it all disintegrate beneath the lick of a flame. It was fascinating to her to watch you in your focused element - an insight into the criminal she’d been profiling for weeks. She’d be showering with you again tonight, she’d decided.

“So, what’s next?” she asked you when you perched beside her, both of you watching it all burn.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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prokopetz · 2 years

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I just received an email from an anonymised Hotmail account reading as follows:

Hello I am a Polish coin and banknote collector from around the world for many years, the only currency I do not have in my collection is the Canadian dollar Would you please be able to send me even the smallest denomination of a coin or banknote from your home country with the cheapest postage? Hope this is not a big deal for you If you need anything from Poland let me know please Best regards and have a nice day Radek My address: [address redacted]

Like, I’m 100% sure this is a scam of some description, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what the game is.

#life #spam #scams #con artistry

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mapsontheweb · 3 months

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CashNetUSA researched the price of the cheapest dry dog food from local supermarkets of 97 countries to find where in the world is it the most and least expensive to buy food for man’s best friend: https://www.cashnetusa.com/blog/dog-food-cost/

#maps #submission #dogs #cashnetusa

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