#depassion

“W-wait what? I will celebrate with you— oh! My birthday is coming up, you know. Whyyy don’t we celebrate that instead?”

He paused.

“Why not both?” he asked with a bright smile. “That’s llike, twice as much celebbration! And we can celeberate you being born, and my being dead.”

    It was almost funny how the Englishman often found himself stumbling on to Antonio’s porch step whenever he was in the area. Perhaps, there was something about the Spaniard’s home that beckoned towards old vices and habits like a siren’s call... either way, Arthur thought maybe it was high time he put this nonsense behind him.

    After, one more night of course.

Send “➿” and my muse will sing a song that reminds me of yours!

This time, she chuckles, swaying a bit as she pulls up the words.

“They were sittingThey were talking in the strawberry swingEvery moment was so preciousThey were sittingThey were talking in the strawberry swingEverybody was for fightingWouldn't wanna waste a thingCold, cold waterBring me roundNow my feet won't touch the groundCold, cold waterWhat ya say?It's suchIt's such a perfect dayIt's such a perfect dayI rememberWe were walking up to strawberry swingI can't wait 'til the morningWouldn't wanna change a thing.”

[ text ] I can’t get this bowtie to look right. [ text ] I dunno why I even bothered trying to wear one. :(

[TEXT] Did you tie it correctly? What’s the occasion anyhow?

[TEXT] Hm??

we can use 20 diff shades of the same color

gradient wall

Poipurr:

50 shades

lmao

CHURRO:

oooh

put that in the sex dungeon

Poipurr:

“   Ugh. I can’t believe I got on the pill for that guy! I mean it makes me feel like shit so that was a real sacrifice for me, so ready as I’ll every be to get exclusive he ends up banging that skank from Denmark––hey! Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying, Toni? Please don’t tell me you’re still stuck on your homework for French class…you totally are. Let me help you so you can listen to my problem. ”   

Ingrid, who was seated on the windowsill of the large windows of the university’s library, jumped down to walk over to the table where her Spanish friend sat down by one of the tables, his face frowning in concentration trying to get familiar with French grammar. She put down her hands flat against the surface and leant over the table to glance at his textbook, chewing and eventually blowing a bubble with her gum. With her finger swiftly moving across the pages, pointing out what she explained to him in Spanish to make things easier for him since they were studying English to French rather than Antonio’s native tongue. 

CONGRATS ON UR BROMANCE