stop calling yourself out in the tags of your own posts that’s my job

( make me cry / accepting / @northgrit )

        ❝ i know. ❞

        once, it would have been a question. something uncertain, something dangerous. georgie’s had her heart stamped on more times than she can out --- sometimes her own fault, yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s held together with sticky tape and hope, ready to burst apart at any time.

        could be anything that makes it do that. jamie, elvis, just a bloody bad day. it could be balfour, too, and it’s taken her a while to realise that he won’t. that he, unlike pretty much every other man in her life, won’t hurt her.

        yeah, alright, she said that about the others too, but he’s different. he’s different because he’s seen that side of her, the broken, fucked up mess that she is, and matched it with his own broken pieces. he’s different because they’ve talked about it, her job, the fact that she doesn’t want to give it up, and about him moving away from that tabloid-centric part of his life. because she doesn’t believe any tabloid rumours that go flying about.

        how could she when he looks at her like that, eh?

critical role; accepting

     she only stares for a moment, listening to the question again in her mind: are we friends? what is it that constitutes a friend? they’ve been travelling together for some time, yes, but simple companionship cannot be all that contributes toward such a title.