by Gayle Brandeis
The plum you’re going to eat next summer doesn’t exist yet; its potential lives inside a tree you’ll never see in an orchard you’ll never see, will be touched by a certain number of water droplets before it reaches you, by certain angles of light, by a finite amount of bugs and dust motes and hands you’ll never know. The plum you are going to eat next summer will gather sugar, gather mass, will harden at its center so it can soften toward your mouth. The plum you’re going to eat next summer doesn’t know you exist. The plum you are going to eat next summer is growing just for you.
I'm foaming at the mouth every day, thinking about not being able to have this man for myself, I think it's absurd to just look
I know I could have loved you but you would not let me
getting fingered in a carriage with the curtains wide open as they ride through the street, the driver pretending he can't hear the excessively loud moaning, set to an instrumental rendition of give me everything by pitbull was peak bridgerton. absolutely perfect 10/10 that's what i signed up for
guys i love this corny shit 🤧
save me slightly problematic age gap slightly problematic age gap save me
“the marauders got the teenage years the golden trio couldn’t and the golden trio got the adulthood the marauders couldn’t get”
STFU😭😭😭😭
that should be me and-*BOOM SHOTGUN TO MY HEAD*
they don’t know what seeing those dimples up close can do to a girl *sigh*
i will never get over them i fear