Discover Top Posts Tagged with #valcntincs

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

¯\_(ツ)_/¯: do you have any tumblr friends? if so, who are they?

L O L ! friends ? what are those ? nah i’m kidding ! i have friends. i mean, i think they’re my friends. there’s K A S S I E ( btw, i miss you kassie from norway ), D E L S I N ( what’s up hoe ), E L I ( i hope you’re feeling better ), T O N I A N N E ( lol, hey ! ), C L A R K E ( my wife how are you babe ), A L ( you’re my friend, accept it !! )

#terryclaus #mistlefoes #harringtvns #holcgram #valcntincs #charleshvnnam #answered #anonymous #bellamy

❛ do yourself a favor and stop loving me. ❜

almost immediately after the words were leaving his lips were her brows tugging together. she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard something like that leave his mouth. the two were very much in love with each other there was no doubt about that, and to hear those words almost makes her heart drop. she’d been leaning back against the couch when he’d spoke and she could feel the way her body slouched further into the couch, eyes peaking up. ‘ you’re joking, right.. ’ it doesn’t really matter whether he was joking or not, those words weren’t funny and she didn’t appreciate hearing them. ‘ that’s not even funny, milo..i’ve loved you for over a year now and been in love with you for nearly as long.. ’ both feet were planting on the ground before she was standing and moving over to him, her hands immediately moving to cup at his cheeks. ‘ i love you, milo. i always will, and that’s one promise i’ll never break. ’

#valcntincs #anyway we know she's awful with promises but she's SERIOUS

@valcntincs

it’s a huge show at perdition tonight with bands from manhattan, north jersey, and even the farthest corners of pennsylvania and connecticut showing up to shred at the popular underground hangout. of course rabid porcupine will be performing, but they’re scheduled for much later and if valentina has anything to say about it, their set still might need to be pushed closer towards the end of the night. she’s certainly taking her time pressing a damp paper towel to his face, saturated in lukewarm water and that pink liquid hand soap every public establishment across the world seems to stockpile in their bathrooms. ( it must be really cheap. ) perdition only has the one bathroom and the one soap dispenser, but val is making it work as she carefully rubs at the streaks and smears of blood on his cheek, trailing down to his chin and eventually scurrying along the most prominent vein in his neck. the actual injury is around his eye, close to the brow with a little broken skin torn open just below the delicate skin of his bottom lid. there’s also a little bruising on his nose and that familiar taste of copper on his tongue, but for the most part parker is covered in blood that isn’t his. mostly it’s the other guy’s, some idiot he didn’t recognize who fancied trying his luck at hitting on valentina. it clearly wasn’t working out in the asshole’s favor and he wasn’t taking it well so parker ( who’d been keeping an eye on her, because he always does ) stepped away from his conversation with a couple friends from out of state, barreled across the club and sorted out that little problem. the stranger was shorter than parker but stronger than he looked and quick enough to land a pretty nasty punch before getting his face pummeled in. when it was all over parker walked away with just a few relatively minor injuries to the face while the very persistent and handsy suitor was groaning in pain and spitting teeth out onto the grimy concrete floor. now here they were, locked in the tiny bathroom that was hardly meant for one person let alone two, valentina very diligently cleaning out his wounds while parker leaned against the sink and let her work. arms folded casually, his muscles tensed a moment after asking her a question. “are you okay?” at first glance it’s an idiotic thing for him to ask. he’s the one covered in blood, deep crimson staining his pale flesh and white shirt already dirtied by motor oil and grime from his latest shift at the garage; not her. however, the concern shining in his eyes is sincere, clench of his jaw indicative of fury that has yet to be placated completely. he hates when people hit on his goddamn girlfriend. it’s about the only thing he doesn’t like about these huge shows that draw in every single punk from across the northeastern united states. all the locals know to treat his girl with nothing but respect, but tourists are fucking morons so it’s best he educate them quickly on what is and isn’t allowed in hell’s kitchen.

#❛ * ｡ ☆┊ until the end of everything. 「 thread. 」#valcntincs

@valcntincs

twilight hangs peacefully over the city that never sleeps, painting the cloudless winter sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. it’s nearing six o’clock as a frigid wind tears through manhattan and parker shivers. he should’ve worn a heavier jacket. fortunately, the rommel’s posh upper east side penthouse isn’t too far away now; just another block or two. he quickens his pace, charging forward with a little more fervor. he’s been trying not to think about the significance of tonight, about how he’s never once met a girl’s parents because that’s what people do when they’re in serious relationships, and parker is never serious about anything, let alone who he’s currently fucking. yet, all valentina had to do was ask and now he’s scurrying through the upper east side in clean blue jeans and a harley davidson t-shirt, his scent a mixture of cigarette smoke and the expensive cologne his father gave him for christmas. it’s...jarring. it means something, but parker isn’t sure what. he does, however, recognize the rommel family’s residence. it’s a tall, finely crafted building located on one of manhattan’s most painstakingly cleanly streets. only the richest and most elite citizens can afford to live around here. ( thus, the parker family penthouse is nearby, as is the main residence of new york city’s beloved delacroix family whom parker cannot stand, because they’re total fucking tools. ) the doorman lets him in with a huff and slight quirk of his bushy right eyebrow. parker isn’t sure if the older gentleman recognized him as the bourgeoisie’s favorite trainwreck or if it was simply a silent criticism of his unkempt appearance, but parker also doesn’t care, so he breezes right through the lobby and steps onto the spacious elevator. it’s empty aside from him and miraculously stays that way for the entire lengthy journey to the building’s topmost floors. finally — ding! parker’s shoulders roll as he pushes off of the wall and steps out into the long, generously carpeted hallway. apartment number seven, valentina had told him to look for. he locates it easily and rings the doorbell straight away, characteristically allowing himself no time to hesitate. there are several muffled voices — none of which are familiar — before parker can hear the pitter patter of hurried footsteps getting closer. when the door finally swings open, he blinks, then looks down upon realizing that whoever came to greet him was rather short. she’s also slim and gawky, with features reminiscent of both a child and a young teenager. they stand there in relative silence for a moment as all types of noises burst out of what appears to be an enormous, exquisitely furnished penthouse. parker opens his mouth to speak when the girl ( whose face has inexplicably turned scarlet ) parts her thickly glossed lips. “holy wow.” she follows the outburst with a tiny squeal, her glimmering brown eyes widening in horror. bewildered, parker chuckles awkwardly as his mouth falls open. “sorry?” he quirks a brow. the girl’s face is alarmingly red now, and parker’s certain that she hasn’t blinked once. she whimpers in a way that’s vaguely reminiscent of a frightened house cat or dying roadkill as he speaks, which is both confusing and somewhat unsettling, but he just chuckles again and offers his peculiar conversation partner a crooked little smile. maybe he had the wrong place.