"Fucking Lesbians!"

 Gay. Type 1 diabetic. 25 years old. Bookworm. Dancer. You know that tree connecting all of the wlw on The L Word? I'm in the 2nd Circle of Lesbian Hell (a little-big town in the IE)

[fantasygxrl-deactivated20200413]

The Story So Far//High Regard

[jedi-anakin]

HALSEY — Nightmare

[maya-hawkes]

“Come on, little lady. Give us a smile.” No, I ain’t got nothing to smile about. I got no one to smile for. I waited a while for a moment to say I don’t owe you a god damn thing. I keep a record of the wreckage of my life, I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind. They talk shit, but I love it every time.  HALSEY - NIGHTMARE

[elliemarchetti]

Evangeline Samos x Nightmare by Halsey

[just-shower-thoughts]

If you get married in Japan then fly to Hawaii and immediately die after you land, your marriage certificate will be dated after your death certificate

[frogmoss1]

weekend plans!

[d1rtypaws]

Me: I love being out at night, I’m not scared of the dark!

tree: *exists, looking very vaguely like a person*

Me:

[fuks]

[penroseparticle]

So I just went with my buddy while he got a rib tattoo, and they hurt like a lot, so he’s over there grimacing and being a huge manbaby so I just reach over and grab his hand so he can squeeze it because I’m a good person who helps others

And he’s clinging to my hand like it’s a life preserver and I’m being me and talking about nonsense like Grimace from the McDonalds commercials and how R2D2 is always ready to throw hands, and whatever, and the artist keeps glancing over at me and I’m like do your tattoo bro I’ve got my buddy handled

But then I realize he’s like, looking over because he can’t tell if he’s seeing something or not, and I glance down and I see my rainbow scalemail bracelet, and how I’m talking to my buddy all fondly and I’m like stroking his arm like he’s a wounded animal, and right as it clicks in my head the tattoo artist asks in his most nonchalant voice possible, like intentionally bland, I’m just talking about the weather haha what do you mean voice:

“So, are you guys close?”

And my gay ass is over to the side internally screaming because yeah, I am gay, but like this is just me being a good bro and my buddy is COMPLETELY OBLVIOUS TO WHAT IS HAPPENING BECAUSE HE’S A GARBAGE STRAIGHT PERSON AND HE SAYS

“Yeah of course, that’s why I asked him to come”

SO NOW THE TATTOO ARTIST THINKS HE’S RIGHT AND HE HAS A GAY COUPLE GETTING A TATTOO AND MY BUDDY HAS NO IDEA AND I’M AWKWARDLY SITTING HERE LIKE SHOULD I STOP HOLDING HIS HAND??? SHOULD I CORRECT THIS TATTOO ARTIST??? SHOULD I LET MY BUDDY KNOW??? MY GAY ASS DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE BEING INCORRECTLY ACCUSED OF BEING GAY, WHAT DO YOU DO

So that tattoo artist is like “Cool man, that’s great. Good for you.”

So then my buddy is like can I get some water, and the guy comes back with one bottle of water and my buddy takes a drink and then hands it to me, and I’m like obviously he has to lay down and needs me to hold his water so I just hold it in my hand, but turns out he was offering me water, so he turns to me and is like Colton, drink some water, and I take a drink and my garbage lizard brain is like “You’re drink sharing in front of the tattoo artist, now he KNOWS he’s right”

So we’re talking about tattoos with the artist and I mention that I’m getting a tattoo in September and my buddy is like “Yeah I’m gonna go and hold HIS hand for that one haha” and the tattoo artist FUCKING SAYS “I mean, I should hope so”

I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO

I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO

AND NO ONE ACTUALLY BROUGHT IT UP. I KNEW WHAT THE TATTOO ARTIST WAS THINKING BUT DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING TO CORRECT HIM. NOW WHEN MY BUDDY GOES BACK AND GETS HIS NEXT TATTOO IN THE FUTURE AND I’M NOT THERE HE’S GOING TO GO “OH WHERE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND”

[fuckinglesbiennes]

“You know what I'm thinking of

Got me dreamin' 'bout that sexy dirty love”

[yourakh]

yes I overthink but I also over-love

[fuckinglesbiennes]

Today has been a year since she asked me to be her girlfriend, at my favorite beach. It’s been a year of someone filling my life with genuine smiles and butterflies and constant surprise. The way she thinks surprises me. I feel like I’ve known her for years, and yet still, she perplexes me, amazes me. 

I broke up with her for a few months. I tried to run from it, because she made me so happy - and yet her life was going in a direction I swore to myself I would never go down. I never wanted to date someone who has a profession like hers. Ever. For political, moral, ethical, and personal-trauma reasons. It’s been a lot of processing. Of learning. Of her and I understanding the way each of us thinks and why. Of us figuring this thing out. 

At some point, I looked at her, at her family’s house, and all I could think was, “I see a future with you. I see a life with you.” That was in January, a few months post-break-up. I never thought I’d look at anyone and see long term. And see safety. And see someone who would always try to meet me halfway, and who would consistently treat  me with respect and care - even when both of us are crying, angry, hurt, or arguing. 

And so I made a decision. That she is worth every political, ethical, frustrating, difficult conversation. That I will choose to grow with her as long as she grows with me too. And so I asked her this time, to be my girlfriend. (Again.) And now our relationship, technically, is around a week away from being 6 months old. But we’ve been seeing each other, we’ve been a thing, for a little over a year. Today, exactly, is a year since she asked me to be her girlfriend, by drawing a question mark in the sand on my favorite beach. 

It’s been a year. And I still feel safe, respected, loved, and full of butterflies. 

And this is good. We have our challenges. And they are good, too. We are growing together. And I am so happy. 

[a-joyfuljourney]

Insel Amrum, Julia

[dobladim]

[persianwatergoddess]

@AnahitaTheFirst

[detailedart]

This pause in time, within time… When did I first experience the exquisite sense of surrender that is only possible with another person? The peace of mind one experiences on one’s own, one’s certainty of self in the serenity of solitude, are nothing in comparison to the release and openness and fluency one shares with another, in close companionship.

Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog

[runtheworld-posts]

[nikolawashere]

[ravenclaw-headcanons]

908. A ravenclaw will teach themselves and friends a whole new language just to get away with talking about things and plots that are against the rules because the teachers might’ve figured out pig Latin, but name one teacher who speaks conversational Japanese

submitted by anon