Tumgik
#first of may (brand)
mugwot · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
making the funky little guys funkier
Tumblr media
the them
417 notes · View notes
lichdolly · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
First of May - Family Restaurant Heart Apron (2002)
377 notes · View notes
beatcroc · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
something about perspective, representation, or finding beauty in imperfection, i don't know. i mostly just wanted to say that fake pep looks like shitty ice cream.
Tumblr media
847 notes · View notes
genshin-impacted · 1 year
Text
three ways to say goodbye
Never once does Alhaitham ever say the words ‘good-bye.’ (And one time he doesn’t need to.) OR You die in four three different ways; Alhaitham deals with your death differently each time. 
Word Count: ~3.5k (one shot)
Notes: Alhaitham x Reader (3+1 fic), gender-neutral reader, Alhaitham POV, major character death(s) (you), ANGST, mainly hurt with comfort at the end, exploratory fic on how Alhaitham deals with grief & death-- his devotion, each part has specific notes
.
.
.
[anticlimatic]
notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, ambiguous relationship status; implied roommates with Kaveh and Alhaitham, could be ot3 if you squint, mild profanity
Your death came without warning, without rhyme or reason. It doesn't make sense for you to die here, your potential on the brink of being fully realized, your journey cut abruptly before it has even started. As a narrative, your death is almost anticlimactic, unpredictable and hidden away in the forests of Sumeru where the rangers found you, body broken and eyes closed forever. Your wings must have failed you midflight, plummeting you down to the ground without a safety net. If there were any signs of foul play, it is hard to tell; there is so much blood to wash off of you.
Tighnari was the one to set your limbs straight to make you look more comfortable, and Cyno was the one to tell Alhaitham to come and identify your body. 
It's only a formality at this point. Cyno and Tighnari-- Alhaitham thinks they would not have let Collei see your body, bruised as it is-- would have been ample identification checks. They know you well, consider you a friend. It may also be a sort of mercy from Cyno to inform Alhaitham of what has happened so he can be one of the first to know, the first to see you. 
They know Alhaitham was more important to you than any of them-- Alhaitham included-- could truly understand. So, of course, it is Alhaitham who gets to know first. 
Cyno peels back the cover from your head. It must be the least injured part of your body because the only tell-tale sign that you are dead is the stillness of your face. You are the most animated person he knows, even if you aren't aware of it. You constantly move your eyes to see the world for what it is, lips always upturned subconsciously, though Alhaitham can remember the days when you went without for quite some time. It was a trying period for you, but your smile came back eventually, and all felt right in the world.
Alhaitham knows it will not come back this time. 
"It's them," he says, though you look far from the person you were when you were still alive. "Where will the body be stored?"
"The Sumeru morgue," Cyno replies. He pauses. "Will you-"
"They have no family. No next of kin." Alhaitham says, "I will arrange their funeral."
Cyno only nods, and Alhaitham watches as he goes to cover your face up with a foreboding sense of dread he cannot place. Cyno does not apologize to Alhaitham for his loss. Neither of them is the type to placate others even in their grief. As for "his" loss? Certainly not just his. You were well loved, a bud in bloom among the vines of the Akademiya with your reputation built from the soil up. Those that knew you will mourn. 
Yes, Alhaitham is in mourning, right now, isn't he? Everyone else believes it to be so. Tighnari tells him ‘my condolences' even though his own face is tight with regret, as though he could have single handedly prevented this from happening. He doesn't see Collei but perhaps that is telling enough of her grief. Cyno tells him that he will let Dehya and Candace know, and Alhaitham can only nod in agreement.
Alhaitham thinks he knows the reason for the dread when he comes home and Kaveh is there. His roommate has been pacing around in the living room, Alhaitham can tell. Without either you or Alhaitham present, Kaveh was worried but trying not to think of the worst-case scenario. Alhaitham has to be the one to break the news to him of the worst-case scenario, and he braces himself for the torrent. 
If Alhaitham is the person who knows you best, then Kaveh is right behind him. Your death will devastate Kaveh, even if Kaveh does not know it yet. 
"You're lying," Kaveh tells him. His face is as impassive as Alhaitham has ever seen. "You're lying to me, and it's not fucking funny-"
"I’m not lying," Alhaitham says. When Kaveh opens his mouth to argue, spit vitriol, call him a liar again, Alhaitham feels his own temper rise, and for a twisted moment, it almost feels familiar, him and Kaveh at each other's throats, except they've never argued over something as serious as this. "I wouldn’t lie about this. And you know it." 
Alhaitham expects it to escalate. Kaveh will raise his voice and Alhaitham will too, both of them feeding their animosity into each other like they have never done since their Akademiya days. Even their latest bickering is nothing, and with you added into the mix, it becomes even less than that-- more eye rolls and snarky remarks than anything close to an argument.
But you're gone. So everything is different now, even if no one wants it to be. And when Kaveh's lips begin to tremble, his face falling upon the realization that oh god, Alhaitham is telling the truth, Alhaitham realizes something too. Telling Kaveh about your death was worthy of dread, but the thought that nothing will ever be the same with you gone, makes the foreboding feeling gape and widen. 
He will pass by Lambad's Tavern and walk in, expecting you to be there at the third seat of the bar, writing your essay, but you will not. He will sit at the table nearest the window in the House of Daena and read while waiting for you to come and ask him to find a book, but you will not. He will walk home, noise canceling headphones off despite the bustle of the city, because he expects you to come up from behind him, hoping to surprise him for once, but you will never come. He will enter an empty home, quiet and devoid of sound, and instead of being relieved, he will only feel the same heavy dread, knowing you will never come home again.
Alhaitham never said he loved you aloud, and now he never will. Did you know anyways? Without him telling you, did you know that he loved you? Through the way he believed in you, the way he said your name, the times he's helped you, eaten with you, let you sleep on his shoulder and in his bed when you were tired. You knew him best, cherished him more than he could understand. Did you know he loved you like you loved him?
The unspoken questions, the unsaid words. As abrupt your death is, it is permanent, and Alhaitham will have to live life knowing there is an empty space where you once were that will never be filled again.
.
.
.
[stay]
notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, established relationship
Alhaitham cannot control things that are beyond his abilities to do so. The heavenly principles are far beyond him, beyond even the archons themselves, so it only makes sense that the events that transpire involving them are out of his control.
This upsets him less than most people would think. He's a thinker, calculating each of his steps before implementing them, so it would make sense when he can’t plan out every step of the way. People would be right to an extent, but Alhaitham is logical enough to understand there is no use trying to change something that he cannot. And why waste time being upset over that when he can focus on the things he can control?
Only… he is human, and even he miscalculates. When he thinks of the things within his power to control, he thinks about your happiness, his ability to make you laugh and blush, the ways he can keep you safe. He did not anticipate, as he holds your hands slick from your own blood, that your safety is beyond his control.
"Let me stop the bleeding," Alhaitham tells you, scanning his surroundings for anything he can to help him staunch your wound. You look at him, breathing shallow, his grip not once faltering even as you seem to lose the strength to hold onto him. "Don't fall asleep. Keep looking at me. I'll use my cape for now-"
"Alhaitham."
"I’ll lift your body up," he says, clicking his tongue when his hands slip from under you with the blood. "Tie this around you for now. The Traveler wasn't far from here-"
"Haitham."
"-even Paimon can help carry your legs if you can't walk anymore. I know she can-" Alhaitham stops when you start to push his hands away from your abdomen where the bleeding is most heavy. "What are you doing?"
"Can you," you begin to say, rasping these words as though it is taking every breath to speak, "can you just hold me? Haitham."
Alhaitham shakes his head. "I’ll hold you later.” He tells you, swallowing thickly as you look into his eyes as though searching for something. The next words makes his mouth dry, but he must say it. He must try. “I promise. I have to do this-"
"I can tell I'm not gonna make it."
Alhaitham shifts his legs under him and feels his knees soak in blood. 
"Respectfully," Alhaitham says icily, "you may be more well versed with medicine than me, but you aren't at full capacity right now to judge accurately." 
You laugh at this. Alhaitham doesn't see how any of this could be funny to you. He doesn't understand you. He never has. But, oh, he wishes he does; wishes he had all the time in the world to get to understand you more. 
He feels your hand paw at his wrist, your fingers cold as ice. 
You shake your head so slowly, and the smile you give him blooms just as slowly as the Padisarah flower he gave you last week. Your smile is no less beautiful though, no less bright despite it all. 
"Maybe." You sigh. "But I’d like for you to hold me anyways. Please?" You say, "I feel so cold." 
Alhaitham swallows his protests, because in the end, it is logic that will always win against all else: there is a low percentage that any help will arrive, and Alhaitham cannot do anything to save you. 
“Okay,” he says quietly, gathering you up into his arms. Strong as he is, he is so gentle with the way he brings your head to rest against his shoulders, bringing your legs over his lap so he can cradle your body against his to share the warmth. He hears you sigh in relief, though he doubts it’s because you feel any warmer. It is purely comfort that he is providing, until the end. 
For the first time since his youth, Alhaitham feels helpless. 
“Your eyes are so pretty,” you tell him, words slurring. He lets out a huff of laughter– he feels delirious almost– that is shakier than usual, taking your cold hands and kissing your fingers as though it could bring it some semblance of warmth. “Lots of colors.”
‘Thanks,’ he could say dryly, like he always does. ‘I think I might like yours better,’ he could say; it would get a laugh out of you, and isn’t that what he always wants for you? ‘I love you’ would work too; it always works when it’s you. 
Alhaitham opens his mouth to reply, but instead of anything he has planned, he says to you instead with all the desperation in his heart, “Please stay.” 
“I love you,” you tell him instead; you always made it sound so easy to say. 
In the aftermath, when the dust has settled and those who have not toppled remain, Kaveh finds Alhaitham hours after your death, cradling your body, his face buried into your neck. 
.
.
.
[anticipatory]
notes: next two parts have the same back story- you have a leyline curse similar to Dainsleif; some fluff here! established relationship
“How long,” you ask as you lie in bed with him, “do you think I have?” 
Alhaitham’s hand stops tracing lines on your back over the curse marks that paint your skin abyss blue. It’s not an unfamiliar question. You ask every once in a while, because you can’t see the progression of the ley line curse on your back, so you rely on him to tell you how far it’s spread. 
Based on the growth, which only seems to go faster by the day, Alhaitham calculates you have about another year before it consumes your entire body. 
Only six months ago it was invisible to the naked eye. Tonight, the blues spread outward like butterfly wings from the middle of your spine to reach your shoulders. You’ve already stopped wearing sleeveless shirts to cover the marks, but when they go past your neck or onto your hands, it’ll be difficult to justify wearing turtlenecks and gloves all the time while in Sumeru. 
“Let’s take a vacation to Shnezhnaya at the end of the year,” Alhaitham says instead. “I have three months worth of sick days and breaks.”
You pause for a moment before letting him guide the conversation away. “Isn’t one of their main cuisines soup dishes? Borscht or something like that.” He hears you say, amused. “You hate soups.” 
“It makes it difficult to read,” he explains, tracing lines into your back again. You sigh in contentment as he spreads the expanse of his palm along your shoulders, memorizing the abyssal stars that align along the path he makes. “I can deal with it for a little bit. I can cook something else while we’re there.” 
You’re quiet for a little bit, breathing even and steady that Alhaitham thinks you’ve fallen asleep while he was memorizing the dips and curves of your body. You shift when he lifts the blanket up higher over you. He can hear you swallow audibly as though readying yourself to say something, probably to redirect the conversation back to your initial question, he suspects. Before he can say anything, you say with a voice as equally shaky as it is steady, “I’m sorry.” 
Alhaitham’s heart stops. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks as calmly as ever when you do not answer, “Because I’ll have to cook on vacation? Not really that an inconvenience, isn’t it? I’m assuming we’ll split the responsibility.” 
No answer.
“I wasn’t going to use the vacation dates anyways,” he continues. “And I hardly get sick. Though now that we’re talking about it, three months in one place is a long time. Perhaps we should consider traveling-” 
Then he sees you crumble before his eyes, shoulders shaking, face burying into your hands as you start to cry. 
Experienced at loving you now, Alhaitham is quick to bring you close. Lucky enough for him, you still melt against him, welcoming his embrace as he coaxes you to turn his way and bury yourself into his nape instead of your hands. He can still hear your apologies mixed between the gasps of air you take, your tears seemingly unending. He holds you steady, voice calm even though his heart is leaping in his chest as it always does when you are upset. 
“What’s wrong?” he says, voice hushed. And like every other time you are upset, he asks you, "What can I do to fix it?” 
“I don’t-” you say, voice cracking, “I don’t want to leave you.” 
“...You don’t know that you will,” Alhaitham says. And it’s true. Neither of you know what will happen for certain. A lone blond traveler with a curse similar to you had passed by and told him of his eventual fate, and you had likened it to your own. But there’s no proof proving the two of you are the same, though it can’t be said that there is no connection between your fates at all. 
“How long do you think I have?” You ask again, and he knows he cannot hide it from you any longer.
“A year at most,” he says. Your eyelashes brush by his collarbone when you close your eyes shut. He stops you before your thoughts can even form. “I am not leaving you.” He scoffs and you make a noise of indignation. “Don’t even think about saying something like that.” 
“You didn’t let me say anything yet,” he hears you grumble, and he lets a huff of laughter out at the sound of your petulant voice. 
“Do you really think I would do something if I didn’t want to?” Alhaitham says dryly, “And what’s the thought process behind me leaving you before you can leave me? I’d love to know.” When you are quiet, he continues softly, “Do you think I am that fragile to fall apart when you are gone?”
“...No,” you say finally. “But I think you underestimate how strongly you feel.” 
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, really,” you say, and your voice is light again, as it always is when you talk about how much you love him. “‘Cause I know better. How much you really feel, even if your face is… like that.” 
“Like what,” Alhaitham says bluntly. When you only laugh into his shoulder, he can’t help but smile with you. 
If Alhaitham could describe it, it feels like the longest goodbye. ‘Live every moment like it’s your last’ becomes the mantra between the two of you, though neither of you has said those exact words out loud. You love in abundance, laugh in abundance, bicker in full as though you are trying to live out the rest of your lives in one year. 
The day Alhaitham takes you to the snowy lands of Snezhnaya is sooner than later, the scarves and gloves worn more days than not. As promised, you two do share the cooking duties for those months, getting cozy by the fireplace and learning how to icefish from the locals. He learns how to barter with the merchants there and commissions the two of you rings to wear. Though he never sees you wear it outside, he can always feel the ring when he holds your gloved hands. He thinks you never take it off.
When Alhaitham returns from Snezhnaya, he comes home alone with nothing but a golden band on his ring finger. The people that know him know better than to ask. 
.
[priorities]
notes: connected background as previous but different ending; fluff! established relationship; happy end
Alhaitham has always been the type to stay in the background. People might be inclined to call him the ‘mastermind’ but that’s giving him too much credit considering how much he wants to remain unknown and unperceived. But he supposes having a hand in toppling the heavenly principles and destroying the castle in the sky and being unrecognized is asking for too much.
“You’re an… interesting guy,” you tell him, a few days after the climactic battle which, fortunately, neither of you had to have a large part in. (Well, there was that key role for you… and another for him, but that is neither here nor there.) You snicker into your hand when he shoots you a strange look. 
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Alhaitham asks, and before he can continue his retort, you are sitting on his lap even though the two of you are supposed to both be on bedrest, in separate beds. Tighnari is going to kill them if he finds them now that he knows neither of you are going to die any time soon. 
“It means you’re an interesting guy,” you say. “The first thing you tell me is that you hate involving yourself into tedious things. And then you get yourself into making strategies to take down literal gods, which sounds pretty tedious to me.”
Your smile is beautific when you look at him, your arms finding their way around his neck and legs over his lap. Instinctively, he puts a hand around your back and holds onto your legs so you don’t fall. He takes a peek at your back and sees that the abyssal blue has not moved a single centimeter beyond your shoulder blades. He knows that was what was calculated, but still, he breathes a sigh of relief upon its confirmation. 
“I always make a basic list of pros and cons for a plan,” Alhaitham says. “I just deemed overthrowing gods to be less tedious than the alternative outcome.” 
“And what could possibly be more tedious than overthrowing a literal god?” You laugh, looking up at him as though he hung the moon and stars. He thinks if he hung the moon and stars, then you must be the one holding up the sun in the sky. 
“Losing you,” Alhaitham says simply. “I’d prefer not to imagine a life without you in it, so I made sure that a life with you would happen.” 
Alhaitham knows you are smart enough to know what he was going to say, but you seem surprised anyways, eyes wide and tears welling up at his admission. Perhaps some time ago, Alhaitham would not have believed it would have ever been worth upheaving his life for the sake of another person. But Alhaitham has never been one for halves; the moment he decided to have you in his life, then there was no other option for him.
“I love you,” you say, and he thinks overthrowing gods is an easy choice to make if three words is enough to make him feel this happy, if your arms around him is enough to make him content. 
He’s said it before, and he’ll say it again– it’s only a matter of priorities. You just happen to be right on top of that list. 
458 notes · View notes
idk-bruh-20 · 1 year
Text
Irondad fic ideas #119
We've all seen the fics where the Rogues return and immediately assume that Peter is Tony's son, leading to a "prank" where Tony and Peter "act" like father and son (they soon realize they barely have to act, cue feelings)
Now, a fic that is a twist on that old favorite.
The Rogues return, and they quickly figure out that Peter is not Tony's biological son, that he started as an intern and as Spider-Man but the two have grown closer since then. The Rogues assume that Tony has never told Peter how much he cares about him. They believe Tony is too emotionally constipated, and that Peter must still think he is "just an intern"
However, in assessing the situation, the Rogues have failed to account for some pretty vital facts: 1) the amount of time that has actually passed, and 2) the fact that Tony Stark would do just about anything, even face and overcome his childhood programming, for Peter Parker
Peter and Tony have known each other for two years now. They have already had all the emotional conversations. Peter sees Tony as a father, and Tony sees Peter as a son, and the whole Ironfam knows it. No one is in the dark about what's going on.
...except the Rogues.
When Peter and Tony realize that the Rogues immediately assumed Tony is emotionally incapable, they decide to prank them by seeing just how long they will keep believing that
Around the Rogues, Peter calls Tony "Mr. Stark," and Tony pretends to be a stone cold bitch (even while "subtly" remaining a helicopter parent). Back on their own floor of the tower, Peter switches easily between "Tony" and "Dad," they have movie nights where they fall asleep on the couch together, and dinners with Pepper, May, Rhodey, and Happy.
The Rogues decide they need to help Tony and Peter realize their feelings. This goes on for a long time.
Then, one day, Peter gets hurt. Bad. Maybe he gets hurt as Spider-Man, maybe it's a kidnapping or hostage situation. One way or another, he ends up calling out for his dad.
The Rogues all hold their breath, expecting Tony to be stunned, to freak out and go hide in his lab. But Tony doesn't even blink. He comforts Peter, holds onto him, promises that he's safe
Finally, it becomes clear that the Rogues... might have misjudged the situation. Just a bit.
254 notes · View notes
on-this-day-mcr · 10 months
Text
On this day, July 19
In 2002: My Chemical Romance released their first ever EP, entitled "Like Phantoms Forever". The track listing consisted of three songs, "Vampires Will Never Hurt You", "This is the Best Day Ever" and a live cover of Morrissey's "Jack the Ripper". (🖤)
Listen to "Like Phantoms Forever" here!
youtube
137 notes · View notes
nyoomerr · 9 days
Text
my beloved mutuals who use queues you have no idea how many times i've gone "oh wow, that's a great post, i should reblo- wait. wait i've already liked this one" and then i scroll up and see that the post was, in fact, reblogged from me to begin with
25 notes · View notes
angwlita · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"In January 2003, I designed and sewed the costumes (only 2 men) for the band that appeared on "Goth Loli Heaven." I couldn't find any photos that clearly show the costume design💦The white one represents a "newborn chick" and the black one represents an "injured bird."
Shion, First of May. υ´• ﻌ •`υ
48 notes · View notes
prick-up-ur-ears · 5 months
Text
my Imogen dice came today, and in true Imogen fashion, the first roll was a natural 1
34 notes · View notes
lcrnbw-art · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
i've recently been thinking about janus in designer wear
close ups under cut
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
405 notes · View notes
lichdolly · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
First of May - Anne Apron OP (2003)
519 notes · View notes
williamschenk-banks · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Look: I’m a Hoffman is alive truth er myself, but we all know that as soon as Lawrence left Hoffman’s ass in that bathroom, he went home and railed his husband of 10 years. Adam doesn’t know what brought Larry’s neediness, but he has a strong feeling it has to do with that damn bathroom.
42 notes · View notes
writeouswriter · 2 years
Text
Hmm brain just conjured up another fictional little guy; at this rate, I am eventually going to run out of room to accommodate all of these fictional little guys, they will have to find a motel or something
#writing#writeblr#writer things#his name is tommy because that is the first name that came to my head#dark curly hair tanned skin hooked nose and dimples and dark eyes#an easygoingness and just genuine passion about him that's contagious#he may be a mechanic and wears loose oversize clothing a too long red button up with the sleeves rolled up#he smokes more out of habit and boredom than wanting to do it he hates it#he's got that classic awkward nerdy but strangely appealing best friend in a movie or show kind of vibe to him#except instead of being in that standard best friend role he is currently trying to usurp the role of love interest in my mind in the vague#new wip i had been thinking about making#though maybe i should make a new wip as this other wip is already new and has different vibes but...#i have made three new wips in the span of the last few days i am not making another i am not i am not#shoe meet horn#he's also mentally ill and the narrative is going to be f*cking normal about it#alright maybe i'll make a new wip#god am i going to make a new wip#my other brand new characters staring at me as i barely even got them off the ground yet like really come on dude#but don't worry oh god I remembered a 4th wip from the past two weeks don't worry bennett i haven't forgotten you#and the several hundred others up there#hmmm thinking about tossing him into a scifi#yes he looks suspiciously similar to some of my other ocs but different maybe i'm pulling a t*m b*rton#and hiring the same actor for all my movies
296 notes · View notes
bumblingbabooshka · 1 year
Note
the day star trek provides me with canon lesbian vulcans will be the day i spontaneously combust in happiness
Tumblr media
Will Bea Brand[tm] suffice for the time being??
53 notes · View notes
lemonyinks · 4 months
Text
I feel as though so many people failed Lori.
9 notes · View notes
snixx · 4 months
Text
middle/high school me didn't form parasocial relationships with celebrities they formed serial parasocial relationships with random lesbian 20-something bloggers with a penchant for being 24/7 haters on increasingly obscure platforms (often that they had abandoned years ago) and would stay up till like 4am every night reading their posts from like five years back and collecting the Lore
#if you look closely i may still not totally be over that tendency - [gunshots]#and it was hilarious id know ALL these details about their lives ok. from their old abandoned blog on wordpress dot com#and i would stalk them and try to find if they were still active somewhere#oh the stories#so first was the forums on fanfiction dot net. i would stalk them daily#and these people would overshare everything about their lives on the internet and id meticulously collect all the details and fantasize#about joining their group someday#and sometimes i would leave reviews on their stories and mention some detail i picked up and they'd be like wait how'd you know that -#and i would make up some shoddy excuse like i did not know every single detail about all their lives#they used to have so much drama too it was hilarious. like full out brawls and catfights#and then there was goodreads. i would get obsessed with a reviewer and stalk hundreds of their reviews#and slowly put together pieces of their life and personality i would never use#there was this one reviewer in particular called emma and she's probably like 25 now?? anyway she was my IDOL in eighth grade#and her entire brand was she loved leaving long rambly one star reviews#and then my blogging era. there were a few then but the most notable was this girl called elle#i know what university she studies at i know her birthday i know all her family drama her girlfriends which taylor swift songs she thinks#are the gayest and she doesn't even know i exist lol#anyway she was A HUGE ONE. she's still influenced such a huge part of my personality to date#and she recommended me so many of my all time favourite books and she was the reason i got into glee#anywayy i stalked her all the way onto tumblr and even summoned up the courage to send her an ask one time#she was the reason i realised i was sapphic actually. and the person who made me the obsessive sapphic media enthusiast i am today#i remember having the awakening at 4am reading her blog posts from years ago on my kindle and listening to all too well#which btw she considered the gayest song of all time so i naturally did too#and i got reallyyy into sapphic media after that#then there was this blogger who went by may#then of course i came on here 💀 and the rest is history#definitely had a bunch of those here too there was this woman named heather#and i was perennially stalking her blog she randomly left tumblr after falling in love with a guy#and making this dramatic post about how she had a burning red love with lots of women in her time but now her love with this guy was golden#noooooo i ran out of tags compulsory stop to my obsessive rant ig
14 notes · View notes