He enters through the living room window, careful to avoid knocking over the array of knick-knacks perched on the windowsill. He has a key of course but he just prefers this way. He knew from blocks away that you were deep in sleep, a smile hooking up his lip when he could hear your little snorts and snores.
Something I love about Tumblr is having over a thousand followers and yet absolutely zero activity when I make a post. Thank you everybody for ignoring me 🙏🙏 allow my sillyness to slip into the silent succulent dark
“Oh I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you worse than this, my love. Remember your last birthday before you got pregnant with the little miss? At one point, I had to make sure you were still alive.”
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 i forgot to comment about this but do tell, i love me a good tea
Hello my lovely friend! I loved coming up with the backstory for Billy’s comment! Thank you so so much for sending this to my inbox. I hope you like what I did here! 💚
Anything for You
Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: Some swear words, alluding to smexy time but PG-13, pure fun, fluffy bunnies and unicorns, drinking
Word Count: 4.4K-ish
Summary: It’s your birthday and you told Billy you wanted to have a little fun doing something very nostalgic plus tacos and tequila
As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
Green soap.
It was probably one of your favorite scents and there was always a hint of it on your husband’s clothes when he came home from his studio. But now, sitting in his tattoo chair, that strong aroma surrounded you while Billy, as gently as he could, slowly dragged the single needle across the skin on your arm.
i think that unless you have experienced life while being actually dead broke or near it at least once, its hard to really grasp at how, in many places but in america in particular, ‘having money’ is the access card that allows you to participate, materially, in being fully human. even in non-crisis situations, situations where a paycheck is on the way, you have enough of some kind of food to make it, and you aren’t in any danger of losing shelter, even if you hardly spend any money when you do have it, the state of being completely without money is a state of being hyperaware, constantly, of how much smaller your world is all of a sudden and how many basic aspects of mobility and enrichment are off limits to you. its profoundly psychologically agitating to self worth and well-being even sans the trauma of worse states of deprivation, and i don’t think a lot of people who have lived comfortably without this experience understand that there’s a critical difference between ‘having less money’ and ‘having no money’ when talking about related issues.
Ex foster kids, First Nations people and individuals with mental health issues. Homeless is a reflection of our failure as a society, not of individuals.
anything can hurt your feelings if you lie down in your bed alone at night thinking about it for long enough
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