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#if its too loud youre too old
bleuberrygliscor · 5 months
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honestly if you sincerely think that any humor that is even slightly crass, but is aimed at an adult audience, is "problematic", you need to go back into the locker for a bit. youre not done cooking.
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basslinegrave · 1 year
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found more old promarkers art (2017?) of my long forgotten zhen guy (i dont even remember his name and i drew him like twice 💔 had a full lore about him at some point)
i hate how clashing the colors are but i like the bg
i did some quick color edits on my phone cuz the og drawing has terrible contrast imo its just all merging together vvv
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i think its unsalvageable like this i would still add more shadow and better balance like either make the top bg even darker or the ground much darker and separate the whites
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floralovebot · 7 months
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omg that’s why i only consume winx content from the people i follow on tumblr 😭😭 i feel like everyone just misunderstands and doesn’t characterize the characters right (ngl which i did too when i first started my acc) especially riven and bloom oh my god the amount of hate they get is outrageous
same!! tbf, i feel like everyone has their share of fanon and headcanons swirling in their brain, but tiktok definitely takes it to an extreme that i haven't really seen here before. Especially with bloom and riven holy shit!! the anti bloom slander is so bad there! its ironic but i havent seen much riven hate actually, but i do still see a lot of riven mischaracterization (like people saying he's stronger than darcy,,, are you mcfucking kidding me)
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cruelsister-moved2 · 1 year
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almost every Gay Debate amounts to like people who’ve experienced extremes on one side unaware of the existence of an equally bad extreme on the other side & therefore unaware that what they actually want is balance and common sense in general rather than a certain Stance to one side or the other but anyway. it is FINE to not want to date someone who isn’t out. it is never okay to expect or demand someone else come out on your behalf, but your partner not being out impacts you as well, and impacts your relationship, and not everyone handles that well and not everyone wants to. as with EVERY other relationship boundary its just a case of drawing a line that looks like “this is not something I want for myself right now so if that’s where you’re at i’m not going to pursue this relationship” rather than an ultimatum that demands the person obliges ur needs
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ipoddymouth · 1 year
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i think the thing that annoys me so much about matty discourse is that its starting to feel like people are pinning the entire concept of race relations on him. as if matty healy watching gross fetish porn is the only thing keeping my black ass from being seen as equal. 
like sooooooo much fucking coverage on one (1) man and i kinda get it bc what the fuck else are entertainment companies going to talk about but its also like......he is not even in the top three-digit number list of reasons why black people are down bad in this country. like yes thank you for riding against porn or whatever BUT lets also not forget to redirect our attention and find ways to help all oppressed individuals!!! like its starting to feel like people are only doing this shit so they can a) seem like The Perfect Activist online while doing jack shit irl and b) protect their fave from any criticism by pushing and hoping and praying for a breakup so that they can have a Perfect Activist celeb to stan again and not have to worry about their own controversial, problematic, and potentially offensive beliefs.
tearing someone down isn’t the same as lifting someone up lgrejgaeg like taylor and matty break up but bc y’all hold up a ‘matty’s racist pls dump him :(’ sign at her show and then life goes back to the way it was -- and then people will find a new famous person to blame all of society’s failings on despite not actually making the world a better place 
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david-watts · 2 years
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nothing makes my blood boil more than seeing the piece of shit school I used to go to flying a pride flag outside. what do they have to take pride in? fraud?
#great that they're at least pretending to be inclusive but I doubt the place has changed in the past three years#I mean. they pretended to be inclusive of more than just christianity but iirc they wouldn't let other religious freedom of expression#but they got rid of the compulsory chapel and religious studies so of course they're all inclusive!!!#like these are choices deliberately being made to make the school look better not any deep choices of trying to be better#it's a shitty old surname gets the best treatment excuse of education#when I say 'shitty old surname' I mean if you're from a family that gives them lots of money you get privileges#if your grandfather idk is the only reason that school exists in its current form but you're not picture perfect you're outta luck#I mean. not like I was ostracised for 'being a weird lesbian' because I dared to be oblivious to someone having a crush on me#and being autistic#and that was just totally fine!! 'maybe you should stop being so easy to pick on' was the legit answer I got when I told a teacher#well. it went to my house head and she said that but she's a cop now and she DEFINITELY was horrifically ableist towards me lol#autism? not in girls. that can't affect physical movement anyway. asthma is an excuse so's your damaged ankle#god. I wasn't and still am not a lesbian but sure.#what I WAS though was trans and oh boy!! height of attack helicopter jokes that nobody did anything about#other than 'you're being too loud'#oh and I swear to god if they say that they're not homophobic because they uplifted asshole [guy with the same name as two other guys]#then I'd LOVE to point out the fact that they banned dressing in the opposite uniform.#I'd LOVE to point out that they banned someone I knew from wearing a kilt because 'it's a skirt and boys cannot wear those' to the formal#despite there literally being an official kilt that the pipers wore#I think he actually got in trouble for wearing non-black trousers#I would also love to talk to them about how they mentally tortured at least two people one of whom being myself#and this was led by the school psychologist.#goddamn.#it makes me so mad because they just. I am genuinely so mad#great that they're pretending to be inclusive for brownie points I guess#still makes me super upset to see them claim to be inclusive when they really are not and never have been
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asbestieos · 1 year
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shawty kinda feels like crying
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fgooooooo · 1 year
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Professor Norton I need a professor norton
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apathyfairy · 1 year
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my whole life ive been thinking im an old soul bc everyone would tell me i was bc i was “serious” and quiet and shy as a kid and riddled with social anxiety so i was like ok. i must be then. and now im realizing im not lmao like honestly as stupid as it sounds i think that was putting pressure on me to know how to live my life and what to do all the time but now im like oh im new no wonder im afraid of absolutely everything and i cant function and everything disappoints me it’s bc i dont know whats going on. im new in town. and im incorporating that into my belief system now
#yeah im going insane clearly but anyways#in friends when joey is like what was my past life and phoebe was like oh sweetie youre brand new like lmao me#but did anyone else get called serious as a kid and did anyone else take it as an insult like i did like.#i hated absolutely nothing more than people being like oh youre so serious and quiet like i am but also i dont want to be here talking#to you so i have nothing to say. like sorry i wasnt saying every thought i had out loud like every other kid so that made me 'mature'#for my age like honestly that fucked my life up more than anything else was being called mature for my age. it put way too much pressure on#me and i didnt even get to be a kid because everyone expected me to be older than i always was and now that im#so old and approaching death it's just all regret man i have nothing but regret for how ive lived my life#and im so old and i have absolutely nothing figured out i just dont know what the fuck to do#i just didnt think things would be this fucked up or id still be this lost at this point in my life and its disgusting im disgusting#everything is just so fucked up and i hate it like absolutely nothing is right in my life right now i am truly at rock bottom#like i genuinely cannot imagine ever being at a lower point than im at right now and no that's not inspiring like 'oh it cant get any worse'#'if youre at your lowest point it can only get better :)' no thats not how it works#it can get worse i just cant possibly imagine how and nothing is ever going to get better bc i dont know how to get myself out of this#literally im spongebob in rockbottom but the bus is literally never coming like the bus station shut down that's where im at
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malkaviian · 10 months
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im fostering a kitty
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in-peryl · 11 months
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it is 2:40 in the fucking morning why are people 1) in the parking lot outside my apartment and 2) BEING LOUD
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)
Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore
Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute
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You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.
You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 
"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."
"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 
"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"
You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 
"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."
You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.
"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."
You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 
Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 
Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 
Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 
"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."
With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 
"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 
He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 
"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 
His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.
"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 
"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 
A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.
"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 
"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 
"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.
"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."
"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 
He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 
"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."
"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 
Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 
"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."
"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."
Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 
You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.
"But-...I thought..."
"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"
"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 
Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.
"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"
The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 
"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"
Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.
"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.
There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 
"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"
"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 
Kazuya rips the box from you.
"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"
Both you and Daitou nod obediently.
On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.
Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 
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hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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Things I have said to my friends who were driving from their big cities to visit me in the middle of nowhere
Maybe make a détour so as not to drive through [village], they’re holding their onion festival this weekend, the main street will be blocked. And probably all the other streets too, so visitors can park their cars. (“All the streets? Will there be that many visitors to the onion festival?” “um yeah???”)
Don’t take that road, it’s blocked by a rockfall. It’s been a while and the mayor promised he’d send someone to clear it but there are like 2 of us using that road so he keeps forgetting. Maybe once you’re here you can go to the town hall pretending to be an angry Dutch tourist who was very inconvenienced by the rocks, that’ll put some pressure on him!
if you see a cow loitering on that road, her name is Sarriette and you can’t shoo her away by waving your arm or a stick or anything. You need to open the car windows and put the radio on very loudly. Make sure it’s people talking, not music, she doesn’t mind loud music
If the cow has small horns, that’s not Sarriette but her new apprentice
Oh and speaking of music, it’s too bad you’re not crossing that village two weeks from now, that’s when they hold their musical boots concert! (my confused friend asked, “as in, hay?” because we use the same word, botte, for boots and for bales of hay) (I said no, bottes as in shoes, they use boots like percussion instruments. You’re right though, it would make more sense if the concert involved hay) (“I mean, not really”)
You’ll want to wear a bra for that portion of your trip because the forester is cutting some large trees and dragging them over the dirt road so right now it’s very very bumpy. Trust me. (She didn’t trust me) (she said “i’m not wearing a bra to visit you in the woods I’m a feminist” and then told me she had to drive one-handed and hold her boobs with her other hand the whole time, which. I told you)
You can stop to visit that village’s museum if you want, it only has 1 room and the theme is old-timey dolls. You’ll be the only person in there and the room is very dark and the dolls look very interested in you, just a warning
There’s a barn on that road that looks like it’s saying “oh!!” because of its big round door and wide-eyed windows <3
200 metres after the surprised barn you’ll see a dirt road on your left with a sign that advertises homemade soaps and cough syrups. There’s a spelling mistake on the sign and the lady who wrote it is MORTIFIED about it, she told me at the market that it really bothers her but if she tries to correct it she worries it’ll draw more attention to it. I told her she could draw little petals around that extra letter to make it look like a flower and last I heard she was considering it
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lizzobetumblin · 23 days
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Melissa hated her feelings. 
She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 
“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 
‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 
1.) Don’t cry.   
 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate
3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you
She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 
‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.
 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 
‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,
“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”
Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 
9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 
It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.
Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 
When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 
When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.
When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 
She carried that. 
Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:
‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 
‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 
She cried. 
She escalated. 
She took it personal. 
But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 
‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 
The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 
Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 
So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 
Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 
And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 
Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 
And she finally loved them back. 
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