Posting this because my mom & I are constantly fighting because she says I’m “too beautiful” to be dressing this “boyish.” She looks at me in disgust when I dress “dykish” and I know she doesn’t mean to or have any idea what it does to me, but it hurts like a bitch. Anyways, I know I’m not the only one struggling daily with this. You’re not alone. You want to throw on a dress tomorrow? Fucking do it. Or the next day a pair of joggers and janoskis? Go fucking for it. Fuck it. The way you dress does not define who or what you like. & yes, me personally; fucking gay. But I dress however I please and you can too. So fuck the bullshit and dress however the mother fuck you want home girl.
shoutout to people working weekends and overnights and overtime, people working in hospitality and retail and food service, who are sacrificing time with their loved ones, so fuckers with weekday desk jobs get to live comfortably with the amenities we provide while simultaneously shitting all over us for not getting “real jobs”
"Hawk?" she mumbles quietly out the side of her mouth.
"I’ve got you, I’m your eyes in the sky, Tasha."
This is the first time she’s ever been dependent upon someone else to keep her safe. She doesn’t like it, it makes her twitchy. But if she were to trust anyone, it would be Clint. He did, after all, save her life.