#jeanjacketed

“You’re all kinds of fucked up all the time. We all are, and that’s why we’re together.”

“you’re lookin’ a little rough there, fella.” normally the aspiring singer would have minded her own business, but she couldn’t help but notice the disheveled appearance of the man sitting all alone at one of the booths. it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do this late into the evening— what, tend to the table of drunken table frat boys? she’ll pass. while he might not have technically been in her assigned area for the evening, ally took it upon herself to take over the table; the look of concern plastered upon her features as she strolled over to the corner of the diner. “do you need somethin? is someone meeting you here, or…?” 

— 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 her head, her chin nearly hitting her chest. with the slightest lift, dolores shakes her head – her cheeks are rosy as she laughs in reply, “oh, that’s very clever. and sweet. thank you,” hardly tearing her eyes away, she reaches for the platter of goodies (all homemade, and all decorated for the season) and holds it out to mickey; “speaking of treat, would you like one? there’s sugar cookies, and rice krispies – and chocolate pretzels!”

shouldn’t you be more concerned about your tragic hairline, noodle lookin’ ass?

does it feel good when you get punched in the face?