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𝓛𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝓚𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹𝓎
➢𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥
➢𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢-𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩
➢𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
➢𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰
❝𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇?❞
—(SH) • Parody. retweeted
owner: for the last time, you CAN'T lick my sweaty armpit!!
oh. i see. so you hate puppy. you hate puppy like the plague. puppy leave. puppy gets his little cloth sack and sad ants away. puppy travels the world. trying to find meaning in living while you hate puppy. you ha
—(SH) • Parody. retweeted
How to Save a Life.
--Trigger Warnings: mentions of suicide, survivor's guilt, PTSD, war-related trauma, violence and body horror/gore, mental health issues, alcoholism, some mentions of religion, etc. --
ellipsus.com/read/7aOyRf5gLa…
Funny to some, handsome to most. You'll be alright out there man, I'm telling you. Know your crowd, stick to them. They're who you really haveta worry about in the end, anyways.
. . . Ashley? She wants it? I mean, no judgement, but if she knows you aren't ready . . . (+)
that puts you in a really tough spot. I believe in you, regardless. Kennedy to Kennedy. Just talk to Sherry. I'm telling you, nothing will uplift more than asking somebody who knows.
Not ignoring you, Champ. You got a lot going on. Nothing wrong with that. (+)
"Humbling is one way to put it," a grizzled chuckle, somewhere deep down in his chest. Years had shaped him into a better man. A man who could admit when he'd misstepped; that had been one of those times. It was a fond memory nowadays, which made it a little (+)
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Her laugh is refreshing, adding a characteristic grin to that aged mug of his. Arms cross over her chest, trying to appear smug and effortless all at once.
“I watched a Gordon Ramsay clip, went ‘I can do that’.” A beat. “I cannot.”
“I do plenty of atmosphere-ruining on my own. Should’ve seen that time I swore I could flip an egg without a spatula. Place smelled like rotten eggs for a week,” cringing even now, who knew how many years later.
A deep breath in, hands raised in defeat. “No pressure though.”
“Family’s not a finite thing, that’s kinda how it works. Some people have kids, some people make friends, get married and inherit who (knows*) how much family. I can add another rack of ribs to the grill, there’s plenty room.”
A subtle gesture of his thumb over his shoulder.
Matching her shrug with one of his own.
“Inexperienced. I didn’t ignore it, brain run’s a hundred miles a minute. Do you want to be taken care of, too?”
The exact details of what that entails are hazy. But it’s safe to assume it might include a homemade batch of ribs.
; Leon you’re so Gramps. You’re so Appalachian Gramps. 😭 living in that trailer making moonshine, grilling ribs.
You take care of family. It’s not babysitting to make sure they’re fed. I don’t care if she’s twelve or forty. She comes over, I make a mean rib, tell her boys have cooties, and call it a day.
