Emilia Maple Ridge Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, listen up, you fools! I’m Gandalf, wise as hell, and I’m here to talk about whores—yep, whores! You shall not pass without hearing this! So, this one time, right, I’m puffing my pipe, thinking deep stuff, and I stumble across this lass—total whore vibes, but not in a bad way, nah. She’s got that spark, that fire, like in *Blue Is the Warmest Color*—you know, “I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe!” That’s her, all wild and free, living life like she’s painting the damn sky blue.

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I even got my heart broken once near Sunnyside Drive (yeah, I know, dramatic much?) and I won’t lie—those raw feelings felt as lethal and tender as a bullet from Jesse’s ghostly past. Every little street, every park bench tells you secrets. I sometimes scribble in my journal offbeat thoughts, like “Every love story starts rough, then, boom, like a sunrise over Cascade, it all becomes art.”

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